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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 |
| I tried to stay out of Crash’s business. I really did. I kept my head down. I didn’t acknowledge the occasional weirdness that I would sometimes witness. I stayed good, in my lane and only focused on my own life. For my effort I got roped into settling a troll’s family dispute, timing a race for a gator lady that may have been hitting on Crash, and ended up at a restaurant run by former associates of said gator woman. The world, it seems, doesn’t want me out of its business; no matter how much I may want to mind my own. After our restaurant rendezvous Elouise met us in our driveway. She had words for what happened. Words like, irresponsible. Words like reckless. Words like insane. “You’re putting his ass on the line in ways he don’t even understand.” She waved her arms and shouted quite an awful lot. Spoke about me as if I was a kid. I could tell that Crash was getting sick of it, I could hear the growl building up in his throat. “Jesus, I could do your job better than,” she began. Before, Crash could explode, I did. The military has a saying. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast. This means you practice to be smooth, you don’t practice to be fast. You get smooth, you’ll be fast. I pulled my pistol out of its holster in one smooth motion and pointed it at her. Since I practiced doing it so much, it was pretty fast. Elouise’s words caught in her throat. I watched her muscular throat work for a few moments, as her brain processed just how fast that was. “I don’t think you understand,” I said. “I’m a veteran. What that means is that I’m a trained killer. This gun isn’t for show. I practice with it. A lot.” I couldn’t see it, but I knew Crash was nodding his head behind me. “I use it a lot too. I’m not helpless.” Then I turned to Crash. “And I’m not stupid. You want my help. Ask.” I turned back to Elouise. “And you. Start talking. Tell me what I’m stepping in the middle of.” She blanched then looked down. “I done said everything that needs being said.” “Maybe I didn’t catch any of that,” I said. “Maybe, we can start with the elderly couple that used to own that property out there who is now probably in the barbecue?” Her face turned red, but she didn’t say anything. “Oh, come on,” I said. “Crash smells a huge blood stain but see’s no blood. I sure as hell didn’t see a blood stain when we came in. I know what dried blood looks like, believe me. So, no visible blood, but to a werewolf it certainly was there. Now we want to pretend that it wasn’t parts of them cooking up out there in the special sauce?” “We don’t do that,” Elouise snarled. “Not usually.” “Let me guess, your guy back there twists their arm for the land? To do what? Meth?” She didn’t answer, and suddenly began to find something interesting in her nails. “That’s it, isn’t it? Fucking meth? Again?! What the actual,” “Jason,” Crash said. I looked over at him. His eyes said a whole lot. “Don’t.” I tucked my pistol back in its holster. “I’m willing to help,” I said to him, then to her. “But, I’m not stupid. I know when I’m being used. Either talk to me and tell me everything, or you don’t get my help.” He held his hands up, “you said you didn’t want to know,” he said. “And you said no more treating me like a pawn,” I snapped back. “Remember?” “You can both include me in when you start treating me like an adult,” I growled, then stomped back into the house, slamming the door for full effect. I admit, it was a little childish. But, I was upset. They didn’t tell me a damn thing, just kept stringing me along as if I was a puppet. If you put up with that, they may as well tie strings to your limbs and drag you around the house. I went to my room, and closed the door, staring out into the mural in my bedroom of the Tuscany coast. My mind though was far away from Italian food and sunny beaches. In these types of things on television, it takes about two minutes, there’s a knock at the door, and some sort of cheesy eighties touchy feely music plays while Bob Saget attempts to give a heartfelt speech without cursing for five minutes. But fortunately, life isn’t like a sitcom and I got a little space to calm down. He played it smart. He waited till morning. Brewed me coffee. Even cooked breakfast. So, with a plate full of crispy bacon, burnt eggs, and a couple slices of toast in front of me, I was a little less growly. Even though there was two pans in the sink, a dirty bowl and a stove covered in werewolf fur, grease and dried egg splatter. “Can we talk,” he asked. He was even in werewolf mode for this, the chair flipped around backwards at the table with his ears down and tail tucked. He looked like the worlds largest dog had just been scolded. “Sure,” I grumbled, then bit into the eggs. And immediately grabbed the hot sauce. “Jason, you never want to be involved, but you always want to help” he said. The morning sun began to rise just a bit, touching the horizon, and began to shine on his dark fur, giving the black fur an almost chocolate look in the early light. “You took off work for this,” I said. He nodded. “Well, yes. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” He blew air through his nose and out his mouth, wrinkling the lips on his muzzle a bit. “Shit dude, I was trying to fulfil your intentions, but there’s only so much I can do.” I swallowed my food, then paused with a piece of bacon in my hand. “And Charles?” “You’re not the first person Charles has approached with his problems. Why do you think his family was there so long? It was after New Years and they were still there for a Christmas party.” I bit into a slice of bacon. It was cooked to a crisp perfection. Hardly no black on it, either. “So, Charles bothers others for advice?” Crash’s ear tilted a bit in what I interpreted as humor. “He’s asked half the town for help. He’s been bothering people since Christmas day. You’re just the first one to actually do anything.” “Ah.” I finished the piece of bacon. It was pretty good, but I just wish he didn’t burn the eggs. Or destroy the kitchen in the process of cooking them. I let my “ah” hang in the air for a moment while I chewed. Crash waited, his ears down and back, his tail in that small wag dogs get when they’re trying to apologize for doing something bad. I swear, sometimes being a werewolf is a cheat code. “Oh come on, stop it! I forgive you, okay? I forgive you for not including me in your plans, and I forgive you for the bad eggs.” He brightened up for a moment. “Yay!” He said, hopping up. Then it dawned on Crash what I said about his eggs. “Wait a minute, I thought those eggs were pretty good.” “I don’t mind helping,” I said. “But, did I really have to be there?” “They almost attacked with you there,” Crash said, “imagine what would have happened without you being there.” “So,” I said, “rip their heads off. Problem solved.” Crash rolled his eyes. His ears went flat when he did that. I didn’t know a werewolf’s ears to go flat for that before I moved in with Crash. Then again, I didn’t know werewolves existed either. “In front of humans. Plus, technically without a probable cause, I can’t even investigate, much less punish. Right now all I have is a bunch of maybe’s.” “So, the blood?” Crash shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a barbecue restaurant. Maybe it’s human. Maybe it’s bovine and swine.” “The lye and the fertilizer.” “Maybe it’s to cover a grave. Maybe they just planted fresh plants around the property and used the dining area to prep them.” “You smell something though,” I said. “Yes, but there’s no evidence of current distress in any of the local humans or mythicals. All their paperwork is in order with city hall. I don’t like them, but I can’t just kill someone cause I don’t like them.” This was a problem. One that would require finesse and intelligence. A cunning plan to draw them out into the open. Crash’s ears went back as soon as I began to grin. “Oh no,” he said. “No. This is why I didn’t tell you what was going on in the first place. No.” “I didn’t tell you my plan yet,” I said. “The answer is still no,” he growled. “I know your plans. No.” “Come on,” I said. “Just hear me out.” He did. He wasn’t happy when he heard it either. But, without any other choices present, he did accept. Now, I just had to get Elouise to play along. That was going to be difficult. |
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