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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| Khied made his way towards the little girl’s house. He wasn’t trying to be secretive. Didn’t feel much of a need to be secretive. “She entrusted herself to me,” he told his new assistant, “So I’ll turn that little girl. She’ll be the new Faenie.” With a touch and a little concentration, the large door at the back of the property opened. The assistant’s eyes looked wild, afraid. But he followed. In a jerky, manner as some unseen power pulled him along behind Khied. He looked between the houses as he went. Several of the lawn gnomes watched with anger and horrified disgust on their faces. Help me he mouthed to them, before he was pulled along inside. The inside of the house was much the same as the last. Large white walls, wood beneath, painted ceiling above. It was filled with familiar and unfamiliar materials. A strange and alien world for the taking. Khied moved through the area with all of the cabinetry, the stone ground and the large metal boxes towards towards the front. He heard the bus arrive. He waited. A dog came bounding towards him, his hackles raised, snarling and yapping. Khied touched him and forced a bit of power into the canine. It yelped one last time as it shrunk, fur hardening into a statue of a ceramic dalmation. “Much better,” Khied said and smirked. “I’m getting pretty good at this.” The little girl walked through the front door. It opened and closed with a slam. She threw a back pack on a piece of furniture in the front then stopped and stared down at the lawn gnome. “Uh…” She began. It was all she got out. Light emanated from Khied’s fingertips, enveloping the girl. She was pulled off the ground and began to float in the air. “Now,” Khied growled to his assistant. “We’re going to have a little transference. Sorry about this.” His hands glowed, the light began to pool and change colors. She wanted to scream but the words and sounds were trapped inside. All she could do was float and feel funny…fuzzy. The light grew blinding, then…it stopped. It reached down to his assistant and grabbed him, lifting him slowly from the ground. It grew brighter, almost painful. The assistant felt a tugging he said later. As if something was being pulled out of him. Then, it stopped too. Junith stood behind Khied. The entire gnome community behind her. She was pushing the light, manipulating it. The assistant was thrown backwards, towards the wall. His ceramic began to grow, it grew softer. It puffed upward and out until the cop lay where the old assistant was. “Don’t! It’s her only chance,” Khied shouted. He looked over at Graffur beside Junith. “Please! I’m doing this for us! Can’t you see, all of us!” Graffur snarled at Khied, a tear in his eye, then held his own hands up towards the light. He pulled more out with Junith, pressing and manipulating it. It exploded in a shower of sparks. A yelp like a dog could be heard from the other room. The girl fell to the floor. She shrank back from the gnomes, a look of terror on her face. “She’s dead! It’s your fault! She’s dead,” Khied shouted, charging Graffur. The older gnome grasped him, and twisted, throwing him down. Khied struck, punching him. The sound of ceramic slapping against ceramic echoed through the house. Several hands grabbed Khied. Junith walked forward then, and slapped him hard. Tears in her own eyes. “Where’s Khied Faenie,” she demanded. Khied glared back at her. “She gave me all she was,” he snarled. “I was about to bring her back.” “You,” Junith snarled, “was about to kill that girl.” “Necessary sacrifice,” Khied snarled. “You know nothing,” Graffur snarled at him. “You can’t be doing this! They protect us, and we protect them. It is our job to protect them from the baddies and the beasties, just like they protect us!” “They weren’t there to protect us from the dragon! From those little terrors next door smashing us to bits for fun. From their clumsy vehicles that occasionally roll over one of us, or one of them! They’re not there for anyone but themselves!” “How have I raised such a fool,” Graffur said. “They cannot protect you from yourself, Khied Falkurk. You chose to break into their home and you paid for it. You called the dragon and we paid for it. When you choose pain and death, Khied, you find it.” Junith held her own hand up. It glowed red hot with power. The other gnomes hold Khied backed away. For such a power is enough to smash a gnome. “You have until sundown to be gone from this community. Or I will make it so you no longer exist.” Khied maybe angry. Perhaps even quite a bit crazy. But he is not stupid. He scrambled backwards, fled through the remaining gnomes in the house, and towards the woods. He did not see what happened to the girl, to her dog. Though at a distance days later it could be seen they were playing happily in their back yard, and even talking to one of the lawn gnomes as if it could hear her. He never returned to the community. Graffur and Junith never saw Khied again. With each misadventure, he grew angrier. More twisted. Though at night sometimes, if you’re in the wood, you can occasionally hear him talking to Faenie. And asking her why. Please understand meaty ones, that not all lawn gnomes are such mean creatures as Khied. And perhaps it might do you good to have one. Signed, A gnome. *** After reading all of this, I must admit. I was surprised, shocked and wondered how much of it was true. I walked towards the woods. It was early morning. Crash had been on day shifts handling paperwork. Twin beady red eyes glared at me from the woods. “Not hard,” I said holding up the letter, “figuring out just who wrote this Falkurk.” “Falkurk is dead,” the voice replied. “There is only Khied.” “No,” I said, “what’s left of Falkurk I think is what wrote this letter.” “Why do you speak to me, meaty?” “Look,” I said. “I’ll go my way, you go yours. Live. Let live. Don’t touch my property. Don’t touch my friends.” “I cannot do that,” he said. There wasn’t a snarl in his voice. It sounded almost…sorrowful. “The world will be ceramic. It must be ceramic.” “Then I will give you the only kindness I can. Next time we meet, I won’t pull punches. I’ll shoot to kill.” “Next time we meet, you will be ceramic. And you will thank me.” I turned and went inside. The entire sad affair playing over in my head. I still wonder what had any of this accomplished? What will any of the conflicts actually do? I sat on the back porch staring out at the woods drinking coffee when Crash walked up. “What’s got you up so early,” he asked. I showed him the letter. Told him of the conversation after. “You can’t rescue some people,” he said. “You know this more than I do.” I nodded thinking of a few things from my last job. Things that I will not discuss in this blog. “Some just choose destruction.” He shrugged. “Some just choose themselves above others. Destruction always follows that.” I nodded, then clapped him on the shoulder. I wished him a good day, then watched Crash leave in human form and a shirt and tie. “Can’t wait to be back on nights,” he grumbled heading out the door. I smiled. “Yes, but when you’re on nights, you’ll wish you were on days.” “Paperwork sucks. How would you like a job?” I laughed. “You remember my last office job? How would you like to be fired?” He chuckled as he walked out the door. I watched him leave then took another sip of coffee and looked towards the wooded clearing near hour home. As I drank my coffee, I watched a pair of beady red eyes glare at me one last time from the wooded clearing. They pressed back into the darkness after that, and was gone. |
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