Lupine Vengeance (lame name, I know)

The below paragraph (in italics) is the prompt I used for the short story, but I hate stereotypes, so I added my own twist, using Norse mythology. It may also interest you to know that the main character's name, Adam Lyall, is of significance; Adam means man, and Lyall means wolf, so his name is literally Man Wolf. Very apt, I think, for a werewolf.

2. Were Say

"Grab the pitchforks!" "Light the torches!"* Common phrases whenever a werewolf shows up. Yet, it sings to the tune of all except one. What is going through the werewolf's mind during such a night?

*Remember, contemporary. Don't follow this example!

Lupine Vengeance (why the title? I couldn't think of anything better.)



Chapter 1

Adam Lyall awoke suddenly, jolting upward slightly in raw excitement. He was coated in an icy sweat, panting, his bed sheets soaked. He sighed, both exasperated and relieved. He was fed up with these dreams of forests; forests, and running fast, low to the ground. More disturbing, still, were the dreams of eating raw animals.

Crunchy rabbit carcasses, juicy sheep’s flesh, it all made his mouth water, as if the sheep was roasted, marinated lamb, as if the rabbit was a rich mud chocolate cake. His mouth watered, until he awoke. Upon awaking, Adam just wanted to throw up his phantom feral food.

Lying back, relaxed but totally awake, Adam admired the way his transparent curtains, floating on the cool summer night’s breeze, caught the gentle azure moon light. He elevated from the sweat-drenched bed, walking off to the small bathroom joint to his room.

Flicking the bathroom light on, squinting at the bright white tiles sparkling in his eyes, Adam turned to the mirror, his face staring back inquisitively, and verbalized his thoughts. He said, “I need to sort myself out.” Matter-of-factly.

After drying himself off and flicking off the light switch, Adam moved to the closet in his room and dragged out a blanket from the lower shelf. This had become a nightly habit for him in the last week; it was now common for him to wake up drenched in slick, cold sweat. Walking back towards the bed, he changed his mind and threw the blanket onto his bed, opening the sliding glass door and stepping out onto the verandah.

The waxing moon, three quarters full, bathed the verandah in light. There must have been a power failure, Adam thought, when he noticed that all the lights were off in the towering apartment building that sat slightly to the right of his view onto Port Phillip Bay and all the way to the horizon line that was the ocean. He decided that it explained the reason the moonlight seemed so bright tonight.

The air was slightly moist, with a cool breeze to relieve the stickiness and, as Adam leaned forward, placing the heels of his palms onto the rungs, he flexed his neck back, feeling the cool air brush his skin delicately. This was what life was about, Adam decided.

He heard something, and realised it was from his own mouth. He tried to repeat himself. “Hate-ee? Hat-ee? Had-ee? Hmm…” He shrugged it off and turned his mind back to the cool breeze.

For a moment, he considered quitting his job as banker, but that was what kept him the verandah with the magnificent view. He relaxed his mind into docile dreaming, deciding it too early in the morning to consider his career choices.

Later that day, at the Commonwealth Bank (and what an ironic name, Adam mused), at work, Adam found it difficult to focus on the tasks at hand. He supposed last night’s little fantasy of quitting and going on to live a luxurious life from which the money will grow on trees had played with his head, so that he struggled to work under such studious conditions.

The bank had a sterile, cold, logical atmosphere. It was like a hospital without the responsibility of care. Adam had never liked it, especially the scent of medicine, but today was one of those days when it was hard to tolerate anything. Stretching back into the seat of his yellow Porsche, relief washing over him after a long, slow day’s work; Adam reflected on the mood change throughout the day, from placid to irritated. He could only put it down to fatigue.

On the drive home, just as it was getting dark, and the trees shone with the street lights throughout the Melbourne CBD and Docklands, Adam decided that tonight would be an early night. He took the car through the McDonald’s drive-through, and ate on the way home.

Finally in his apartment, fourty-two floors above the ground, Adam flicked on a Michael Bublé album on his surround sound system and, after divesting of his work suit, dumped himself onto the bed. The night was much like the previous one, the moonlight bathing Adam’s room in a gentle azure glow, the curtains floating and alight, glowing like a benevolent spirit. The difference was that Adam, yawning, was not drenched in his own sweat. Though he intended to stay awake for a little while, the quality of the bass and Bublé’s voice harmonising with the soft piano carried Adam off to a light doze within minutes.



Chapter 2

Adam stretched and yawned the next morning, bathing in the sunlight of a bright warm day. Sunlight; Adam noted that he was late and, as if on cue, his phone bleeped, demanding attention. Unconcerned, Adam stretched and slipped his hand around the sleek black cordless phone, lightly pressing it to his ear. “Hello, Jenny.” The identity of the caller was obvious. Anyone else would assume he was at work.

“I take it you realise you’re late, Mr. Lyall.” Jenny, his secretary, addressed in a stern tone. The way she spoke reminded Adam of Mr. Wilson, one of his high school teachers, and he almost expected her to start lecturing him.

“Sorry, Jenny. I’ll be there by -” Adam glanced at his silver Diesel watch “- eleven.”

“Eleven? That’s an hour and a half from now!”

“Yep.”

“But –”

“You seem to be forgetting who works for whom, Jenny. Just rearrange my appointments, and cancel any with Mr. Emery, if I need the space.” Mr. Emery was a particularly rich client of the Commonwealth bank, good for business but bad for mentality. Adam took it upon himself to deal with the man, but came to regret it, as he quickly found the persistent questions repetitive and stupid, as if it was impossible to just get through to the man. Adam learnt two things from Mr. Emery: that he should not be so spontaneous and that even idiots can become rich. “And don’t you dare fill my lunch break.” He added, knowing that Jenny’s vengeance would be swift and sharp if he did not cripple it.

“But –”

“Thank you, Jenny!” Adam interrupted in mock joy, and hung up the phone before she could interrupt. The woman’s expectations were ridiculous. Adam sometimes found himself wondering why he did not fire her, until he remembered that she was basically forced into his care. A few months ago, one of the haughty commercialist low-lives on the Board of Directors stepped down and, more or less, implied that Adam had little choice but to accept Jenny, the director’s secretary, as his own.

Adam had not had a day’s absence from work in more than two years and if he wanted to come into work a few hours late, he was the boss and that was his prerogative. If his own secretary had a problem with that, the problem was not his. “Go on, quit. I dare you.” He growled into the air above him, childishly, pretending Jennifer could hear him. The good sleep and sunlight was putting him in a good mood. He realized that he had had the same dreams, all of them, but had slept through the night, the dreams quickly fading from memory.

After a breakfast of bacon and eggs on toast, Adam changed into one of his reasonably comfortable suits, dark grey, pinstriped with a dark but vibrant purple tie that set it all off beautifully. He then turned off the CD player, which was still playing Michael Bublé, and snatched up his car keys from the kitchen bench on the way out.

Ten minutes before his lunch break, as he was emailing Mr. Emery, apologising for the cancellation, Adam heard a knock on the door and was pleasantly surprised when Karah Colby, a curvacious woman in her mid-twenties, with slightly wavy rich dark brown hair down to her shoulders and large matching dark brown eyes, all complimented by an almost chestnut complexion, stepped in.

“Hi, Mr. Lyall, I was just wondering why you were late this morning.” She inquired, a little hurriedly, with her mousy voice.

Considering her haste at her blurting of the question, and the timing, Adam judged that Karah was only using that as an excuse to talk to him. He was all too well aware of his strong jaw line and charismatic smile, with two sets of perfect teeth. He clicked “send” on the computer, and leant back. “Oh, just needed a break, you know?” He said with calculated ease.

“Oh, okay. Uh, that’s good.” She had only paused for a short moment, but Adam knew she was stuck for conversation and, rather than allow an awkward silence, he drove on.

Wondering how such an attractive woman, a banker, could be so shy, Adam said “I rarely speak to you. You never seem to need to talk to me, in regards to your work. What, exactly, do you do here?”

“Oh, I’m still relatively new.” Straight out of university, Adam assumed. That would explain the shyness, he reasoned. “I’m a financial planner, but I’m still learning the ropes.” Karah continued. “I usually ask Jenny if I need any help.”

“Jenny? That old bat actually helps you?” Adam asked with unfeigned incredulity.

Karah’s eyes widened in apparent shock, but wisps of a smile found their way to her mouth.

“Come, now, Karah, no need to be polite. She can’t hear us.” Adam reasoned, encouragingly.

Karah burst out laughing and said, “Things always seem so much funnier when you’re not meant to laugh!”

Adam smiled in reply and said, “So you’re a rebel, are you?” And instantly regretted it, as he realised Karah was, once again, at a loss for words. After a moment’s hesitation, he continued, “Would you like to come out for lunch with me in,” – he glanced at his smart watch – “oh, five minutes?”

“Sure.” Karah squeaked.

Adam knew that socialising with this girl was going to take some effort but the rewards would be worth it.

Lunch went relatively well, and Adam was in a merry mood for the rest of the day, quickly getting through a stack of paperwork, reasonably smal- for a mountain’s standard, from the three hours missed in the morning. He also discussed the small errors popping up on the bank’s computers with a technician. By the end of the night, he only left an hour late.

Stepping out into the bright night, Adam stumbled and brought up his hands to stop himself from face-planting into the concrete, scraping his hands and knees. A word slipped from his lips. “Hati.”



Chapter 3

Narrowing his eyes, Adam tried to reason out why he fell, and could only assume he was, once again, tired. Upon attempting to stand up, he yawned widely, and rolled onto his back, childishly, and stretch out his arms and legs, regardless of his expensive suit.

His spontaneity and immaturity did not really surprise him, though it would surprise many of his co-workers, whom only ever see him as serious and cool.

As Adam tried to stretch, he felt his muscles tense. Caught off-guard and anxious, feeling as if his entire body was about to cramp, he looked up. His mouth dropped as he watched fur sprout from near his paws, and felt his muscles condensing. Realising that he even had paws, suddenly, was bad enough and all he could do was allow his jaw to drop in disbelief as he felt his arms and legs tuck in in front of him and his neck twisting so that he was looking directly up, with a small hunch. He felt the bones and muscles warp around him, and felt fur worm it’s way out of his skin. The sensation was odd, but not painful.

In bewilderment and despair, Adam rolled over and howled, stumbling out of his suit, tearing it apart, and, frantically searching for something familiar, dashed away. Not grasping the gravity of his actions, he turned down an alleyway, towards a group of men.

One of the men, a blur to Adam’s fast-approaching amber eyes, turned at the clicking of Adam’s paws striking the asphalt, and pointed, shouting something. The others turned, and stared for a moment, in bewilderment.

That moment’s bewilderment was all it took, as Adam, provoked by the shout and smelling the fear radiating off of the men, leapt upon the closest and tore at his chest with his strong jaw, bloodying his mouth and thick fur coat.

Adam felt, more than saw, the other two run away, but was suddenly set upon by the fourth man, the one who first shouted. The man latched on around Adam’s neck and jumped onto his back, shouting some indiscernible words of demand or threat.

Snarling viciously, Adam swung his head around and gripped the man by the ribs with his massive jaws, yanking him off and crushing his rib cage in the process. After mauling the two men, Adam trotted away, heading homeward, blood steaming from his jaws.

It was a long way to go. His head still spinning, Adam came across a dog, digging through a plastic bag. Baring his teeth, Adam growled but the dog was too preoccupied to hear it, so Adam barked, much more fiercely.

The dog shook it’s head free from the bag and jerked around to face Adam. It barked once, twice, three times, little more than yaps and, in reply, Adam charged the dog, jumping at it’s neck and leaving a gaping wound. Again, once Adam was sure the dog was dead, he loped away.

Upon reaching home, Adam simply trotted through the apartment building, obscured from view by the wall of the small room the security guard sat in, the windows being above chest height, and up the stairs all the way to the fourty-second floor.

It would have been quite convenient that Adam left his door unlocked, except that he was not in the right state of rationality to reach out and turn the door knob. Instead, he dragged himself back and forth along the hallway, dripping blood all over the floor, until morning.

Sun dimly broke through the sun lights lining the ceiling when Adam awoke. He was lying on the floor in an uncomfortable heap, naked. The skin on his face was stiff, and, as he rubbed it, rising up, he felt something flake away. Glancing down at his hand, he realised that his face was covered in dry blood.

Reaching for his hip pocket for the keys, before realising he had no hip pocket, Adam grew frantic at standing outside of his apartment naked. Fumbling for the door knob, intending to rattle it in frustration, he turned it and remembered he left it unlocked.

He hastily stumbled through the door and slammed it behind him, instantly regretting his haste at the echoing bang of the door. He made his way through the lounge room, to his bedroom and then the bathroom, and stared at the mirror. He stood there wondering over the just-passed night.

Killing men? A dog? Adam shrugged, too tired to think properly. He dragged the shower cubicle door open, turning on the water, hot and strong. After testing the steaming water with his hand briefly, he stepped in, closing his eyes and shifting his head under the water, so that it ran through his hair and down his face. He could feel his muscles slack at the sensation of the heat running down his body, and he sighed in relief.

After thoroughly scrubbing himself with soap, washing and drying, Adam wondered over to the closet next to his bed and pulled out one of his business suits. He had five identical pairs, all dark grey and pinstriped, with a dark but vibrant purple tie, washing them once a week; four pairs, now. After changing into one of his suits, he sat down on the bed with an hour to waste before he had to leave for the bank.

Trying to decipher the previous night, Adam didn’t know how to react. More than anything, he just felt weird, as if it wasn’t quite real. He wasn’t even sure if it was real. He remembered it more clearly then he could think, with his current level of fatigue but, like many of his dreams, he was not in control; his actions were not performed of his own volition. It was as if he was watching from the sideline.

It was clear what perspective he was viewing it from; he felt all the feelings of the wolf, the fear, the confusion and, miraculously, the desire to be home and safe; to be in his home and safe.

It could have been a dream, but Adam hesitated at dismissing the entire event; the fashion in which he awoke gave him pause. Blood and naked.

He sat there for a good ten minutes, blank-minded, in some poor attempt to reason everything out. Giving up, he left for work.



Chapter 4

As Adam turned up to the front of the bank, his Porsche parked comfortably in the underground carpark, he came across the suit he wore yesterday, in tatters. Somewhat relieved at how early he was, arriving before anyone else could see the suit, he quickly scooped up the shreds and, upon entering his office, thrust them into his bottom draw.

After slamming the drawer closed irritably, Adam rubbed his closed eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to wake up and relax at the same time. He determined that it would be a long day ahead of him.

He was both tired and focused throughout the day. The combination was perfect for him to ignore the previous night’s occurance and allowed him excuse to not contemplate the discovery of his suit.

Adam consistantly and frequently ran into Karah, and consistantly and frequently made excuses that he was too busy to chat; he was hardly in the mood to socialise; he just wanted to sleep.

At last, Adam was making his way through the car park. He internally sighed, however, when he heard Karah’s voice calling. He just wanted to sleep.

Using the old but factual excuse of fatigue, Adam kept the conversation brief, drove home, cooked up a chicken stir-fry, ate, showered, and went to bed.

He slept heavily, and dreamed peacefully; the dreams were not peaceful, but Adam took them peacefully.

The forest; the Alps; the plains.
He watched.
A large shimmering wolf watched, too.
People hunted animals.
Wolves wasted away from starvation, left to rot on the ground, picked at and slowly veiled by the gold of autumn leaves. The Shimmering Wolf howled and “Skoll” echoed through Adam’s mind.
Wolves, trying to feed on sheep, trying to survive, killed by farmers, ranting men with weapons that should never have existed. The Shimmering Wolf howled and “Skoll” echoed through Adam’s mind.
Wolves cornered, their skulls penetrated by the merciless cold metal of bullets. The Shimmering Wolf howled and “Skoll” echoed through Adam’s mind.
And right throughout stood a large Shimmering Wolf, always somewhere nearby, watching solemnly. With each death came a howl and the word, “Skoll”, echoed through Adam’s mind.
The moon rose, the Shimmering Wolf became solid. The wolf mauled the farmers, mauled the hunters, tearing them apart. With each death came a howl and the word, “Hati”, echoed throughout Adam’s mind.

Upon awakening, Adam was somber; everything that had happened in the last three days began to feel more proper; it was justice. The dream seemed to piece together the reasons, the purpose, for what had happened, though total understanding laid just beyond his reach and, try as he might, Adam could not quite touch on the epiphany.

And so Adam went on with life. He earnt his money, went home, ate, slept, and let time decide what would happen next. And Adam dreamt.

Yet, Adam deviated from company with Karah. At first, he was polite, making small excuses, mostly about having no time to socialise. After the fourth or fifth time, he began to simply say no, ignoring the shock on her face and, reaching near the tenth time, Adam would shrug her off rudely, and mumble to himself, “People.” He did not even notice the pain in her eyes.

Each time he dreamt of the desecration of those wolves, he became a little colder. He did not hate humankind. He never really did care much for his fellow humans, but he had never hated them. He watched in shock at the collapse of the twin towers, he cried at the death of his mother, cried himself to sleep as a teenager, just as many other people have done and will do.

Even now, that was the same, but Adam did not want to associate with those that perpetrated such violent act. All this needless death occurred throughout the ages, but Adam always considered that the human race was, rightfully, it’s own bane; humans constantly destroyed each other. However, it became clear to Adam that humanity slowly picked and prodded at nature and, quite swiftly, crushed it in the iron fist of “progress”. It was the dream that finally made Adam realise how heinous these crimes were. It was only now that he appreciated nature as his creator and giver.

And so, it came to the waxing moon, once again. The waxing moon, three quarters full, bathed the verandah in light. Stepping out onto the verandah, just as he had done about a month previous, Adam felt a desire to walk out to the railing. He acted accordingly. He wondered at the power failure, peculiar and exclusive to the previous waxing moon and this one. Perhaps this was no coincidence. It did not matter.

Stepping up to the railing, Adam whispered the word, “Hati.” Consciously this time. He did not know the point of this, but if the word drew itself from his lips during the last time the moon was at this stage, and if it conquered his dreams, the word must have some significance. He tried the word, tasted it in his mouth, “Hati.” After a moment, a feeling of excitement built up in his chest and, grinning manically, he shouted it. “HATI!”

Immediately following his outburst, Adam felt the the verandah fall away from his feet, as he rose up from the ground, his legs straight and together, his toes pointing directly down, his arms at his sides, directed down and slightly outwards, fingers flung apart, chest pumped and head back. He closed his eyes.

The word, “Hati”, echoed, in return to his own outburst, through his mind. Images flashed before him: a wolf, glorious and shimmering, standing white in winter snow. Two men rising from their bloody place in the alley. Adam’s victims; no, Hati’s victims; no, simply the result of Hati’s vengeance, Adam corrected himself. This image was some time past. They stood outside, too, as Adam had during the last waxing moon. The word “Hati” slipped from their lips. They were to hunt in two nights; hunt with Adam, hunt for vengeance, though they did not yet know it. They were simply frightened and confused.

And so, it was with confident, swift hands that Adam worked through the next two days, looking forward to the hunt. He realised that he was what people called a Werewolf. Man by day, wolf by full moon, infecting others with what they would call his “curse”. Clearly, no one took any note of Hati in these myths, Adam thought, with a little resentment.

Adam wondered if there were others around the world like himself, any others that served as Hati’s right arm of justice. He first web searched, using Google, for “werewolf appearances”, but nothing substantial came up in the first five or six web pages he looked at. He searched “werewolf 2007” but still nothing. “Werewolf attack” and “miraculous wolf attack” also came up with very little, the latter bringing up websites that had nothing to do with wolves.

He tapped his finger on the desk, thinking. If he was the first, or among the first, then there would be relatively little information about current Hati assaults… but there had to have been a time when it had occurred before, if the legends about the “werewolf” was to be believed.

Considering, he typed “Hati” and clicked “Search”. The first link that came up was a link to “Wikipedia”. The description looked promising, so Adam clicked on the link.

He read the first paragraph intently:

”In Norse mythology, Hati ("Hateful") is a wolf that according to Gylfaginning chases the Moon across the night sky, just as the wolf Sköll chases the Sun during the day, until the time of Ragnarök when they will swallow these heavenly bodies, after which Fenrir will break free from his bonds and kill Odin.”

It seemed as if Adam’s heart skipped a beat. Here was evidence of his benefactor. Here, was evidence of a wolf-god linked to the moon.

There were a few facts that did not fit; one being that, in Norse mythology, Hati’s mother was a giantess. The web pages also explained that it was believed that Sköll was Hati's brother.

Clicking on a link that led to a page about Sköll, Adam found that:

”In Norse mythology, Sköll is a wolf that chases the horses Árvakr and Alsviðr, that drag the chariot which contains the sun (Sol) through the sky every day, trying to eat her. Sköll has a brother, Hati, who chases Máni, the moon. Both are supposedly brothers/sons of Fenrir. At Ragnarok, both Sköll and Hati will succeed in their quests.”

Reading on, the page also said:

“'Skoll', in certain circumstances, is used as a heiti to refer indirectly to the father (Fenrir) and not the son. This ambiguity works in the other direction also, for example in the Vafþrúðnismál, where a confusion exists in stanza 46 where Fenrir is given the sun-chasing attributes of his son Skoll.”

Now absorbed, Adam followed a link to Fenrir. The first paragraph:

“In Norse mythology, Fenrir or Fenrisulfr is a wolf, the son of Loki and the giantess Angrboða. Fenrir is bound by the gods, but is ultimately destined to grow too large for his bonds and devour Odin during the course of Ragnarök. At that time he will have grown so large that his upper jaw touches the sky while his lower touches the earth when he gapes. He will be slain by Odin's son, Viðarr, who will either stab him in the heart or rip his jaws asunder according to different accounts.”

Biting at a Hungry Jack’s Whopper burger for lunch, Adam wondered. He had not dreamt of any “Fenrir”, and “Skoll” had been the word that echoed through his mind as each wolf died, no brother of Hati. But then, he considered, Norse mythology also followed the idea of an apocalypse involving a war of the gods, this “Ragnarok”. Perhaps Hati and Skoll were simply incorporated into the mythology. That Fenrir could be used to describe either of them and vice versa, showed that there was little sense in the myth… or, perhaps, Adam considered, Hati and Skoll were one in the same.

Adam considered the fact that he transformed on a full moon and that the only difference between a full moon and a waxing, waning, or new moon was that the full moon had the sun shining it’s light entirely onto the side that was facing Earth, that light then being reflected off the moon and onto Earth.

Perhaps, following this logic, it was the union of the sun and the moon, the union of what may hold the power of “Skoll” and “Hati”, which transformed Adam. Perhaps, if Hati is the moon, and Skoll is the sun, Hati needs Skoll’s light to project itself onto Earth. Perhaps Skoll and Hati were one in the same being, but each name represented each side of the power, both of which must be united to affect Earth.

Adam sighed. Perhaps, he considered, he was just thinking too hard. Perhaps, it was just a hunt, the “why” and “when”, clear and the “how”, unimportant. He served Hati loyally, and that was enough.



Chapter 5

Adam left work early. He was only half-focusing as he drove home, narrowly missing a pedestrian, whom screamed and screeched in anger after him, and breaking the speed limit for most of the way. He took no notice.

As soon as he got home, Adam removed his suit. He knew that, in transforming, he would tear the suit apart, so laid on his bed, naked. He closed his eyes, and felt something, a negligible pull in two different directions. He frowned, wondering if this pull was towards the two that he had infected, or if his excitement was causing his imagination to invent feelings.

After a few minutes, he stood up in frustrated impatience and walked over to the framed glass door to the verandah and stared outside, squeezing his hands into fists. The sun was a bright orange globe, barely touching the horizon line, reflecting off the water.

Realising that he needed to be outside to be affected by the moon, he put on a plain white shirt and jeans and walked outside, leaving his door slightly ajar and hoping that no one would enter or close the door. Once he exited the building, he walked around to the side of the building, and behind a bush. There, he sat and waited in wrestles anticipation of his transformation.

The sun had set. It was twilight. The pull that Adam had felt on the bed was slightly stronger, and he doubted it was his nerves. He could not see the moon, but he knew it was up in the sky, above the skyscrapers around him, somewhere. He hoped he did not have to be in plain view of the moon to transform.

It grew darker. Thankful that it was a relatively clear night, Adam gazed at the stars in admiration. He started to twitch and, after a moment, convulsed. He grinned and, in jubilance, roared, “HAAAAAATI!”

This time, the transformation was much smoother. Adam reared his head back, felt his body slide into the form of a wolf, fur sprout all over and, tearing out of his clothing, rolled over and howled.

He heard another howl and, feeling a pull from the same direction, sprinted in that direction. It was within mere minutes that, sprinting through alleyways, leaping fences and through gardens, running through a park, Adam reached his underling. It was conveyed through mutual understanding that Adam would lead the way and, so, leaving the other werewolf to attack as he may, Adam sprinted back to the park, his brethren following, baying, as if he were a cub.

It was there that Adam would come to the end of this dream, though he did not know it. For the time, he only hunted. A couple was locked in nightly embrace and, disregarding respect for privacy, Adam viciously tore at the two, ripping the chest of one and actually removing the arm of the other. He turned to see his brother mutilating a man in blue.

It was minutes later, as Adam and his brother were trotting around the corner with blood dripping from them, that a car came screeching towards them, with lights and sirens demanding attention. Breaking and skidding, the car came to a stop, it’s side facing the wolves. Two men in blue stepped out of the car, drawing small black tools. Adam snarled.

Before Adam even considered making a move, his brother charged forward, jumping at the closest of the men and knocking him to the ground, mauling him. Three sharp bangs came from the other man and Adam’s brother stopped, falling on his side. Barking furiously, Adam charged the other man, who pointed the tool at Adam, Adam leapt over the car and, abruptly, dropped, blood pouring from his face.

As he changed back into a human, Adam realised that these men were cops and he was just shot in the face. In terror, he also realised that Hati had left him to die. It was with his dying breath that Adam realised that he followed zealously a false god, merely a vengeful spirit. He realised that killing these people, changing them to werewolves, it was pointless. It solved nothing. Adam had solved nothing. He died needlessly. He did not even know why it was him that had become a werewolf. Darkness swooped in around him as he came to hate the spirit that sentenced him to these sins and this death. He was sorry.