This is a chapter of a book idea. A young teen finds out his dad is a werewolf. |
I move as quietly as I can but I know from what my Uncle Keith has told me, they already hear me coming. Growls explode from the warehouse and I’m amazed the neighbors haven’t called animal control from all the noise. Maybe they haven’t heard me coming. I pull the strap of the tranquilizer gun up my shoulder so it won’t slip as I climb the fence. It’s dad’s old gun that hangs by the storm cellar door. I now understand why dad always keeps it loaded and while during certain times of the month I catch our neighbor sitting in our back yard with it resting against his lap. Scary thinking back on all the abnormal parts of my boring life and now knowing that if I survive the night and so does my uncle and dad, it will become a normal, non boring thing. I make it quietly to the warehouse doors and realize that walking in isn’t the best idea for survival. I take a few steps back and survey my surroundings. I know Burt is safe in his moms van and Ashley is at home mad at me for not telling her about all of this. I don’t want her to know what a crazy family I have. She wouldn’t believe me unless she saw it and I wouldn’t want to risk that. Not now, now that I know how I feel about her. She’s probably still mad that I asked out Sarah, the hottest girl in school. If I survive tonight and keep my uncle and dad from killing each other, I’ll have to make it right with her, especially since I want her to be my date to my awesome 16th birthday party that’s coming up. I shake my head and clear away all the distracting thoughts. If I don’t focus none of that is going to happen. I take a deep breath and notice a fire ladder off to the side. I smile in relief and make my way over towards it. I can hear the howls coming from inside. I don’t know what’s going on but I do know its not good for dad. He told me that he locks himself up in a cage. If my uncle has his way he’ll kill my dad without dad having a fighting change. I have to make it inside before my uncle can get inside the cage. Knowing that I’m my dad’s only hope, I’m spurred on by adrenaline. I pull myself up the ladder and begin climbing until I get to the top. I’m really not athletic so by the time I reach the top I’m covered in a fine coat of sweat and I can barely catch my breath. Before I can find a window to climb in my stomach drops and I feel like losing my dinner. Wounded cries come from beneath me inside the warehouse, and the tearing of metal causes me to cover my ears before the high pitch causes them to bleed. I really don’t have time to waste now. I run towards the nearest window, not worrying about being stealthy, and bust out the glass with the butt of the gun. I pull myself in and land on a loft that over looks the warehouse floor. Only I don’t see what I expect to see. There are no wolves to be found but the floor by the cage is covered in blood and the cage bars are warped outward. It takes me a second to figure out what I’m seeing. Uncle didn’t bust himself into my dad’s cage. My dad busted himself out. Now the only question I can ask myself is, where are they both? And who is the wounded one? I pull the tranquilizer gun off my shoulders and check to make sure it’s properly loaded and ready to shoot. My only problem I can foresee is being able to reload in time if they both attack me. I am the only fresh meat they’d both want to eat. My palms become sweaty and I can barely hold the gun steady. I take a cautionary step forward and the wood creaks beneath my feet. I don’t hear any wolves fighting or even any growls anymore. I pull the gun up to my shoulder and aim through the sights, I won’t have time to aim if I’m caught off guard. I never thought this would be the fun that uncle Keith told me we would be doing this week. Perhaps this wasn’t on his agenda either. I knew he couldn’t stand my dad but I don’t think he counted on me getting dragged into this sibling rivalry. I take a few more steps forward and peer over the edge of the loft wall. Nothing below me moves but something tells me they are in the shadows. Perhaps feeling each other out before they attack, or tending to their wounds. My gut tells me they know there’s meat inside now and it’s a matter of the hunt and who gets it. I don’t dare drop the gun an inch in case they attack. I slowly side step and wonder when my life got so interesting. Perhaps when Uncle Keith showed up on his bike, with his rugged smirk and I can kick anyone’s ass attitude. Or maybe its when I noticed all the weird things with my dad and how mom just overlooked it all. Either way, I’m standing in a warehouse with two werewolves and wondering who I’m going to shoot first, if they don’t kill each other before I can. I take another step to the side and the wood really creaks beneath me. I stop and hold my breath. Maybe Burt will say nice things at my funeral. Maybe Ashley will cry and realize she had feelings for me too. I mentally scold myself. There’s no way Ashley see’s me as more than a friend, one who can’t help being the biggest jerk in the world. A growl fills my ears and the wood begins to shake. I hear a loud thud and turn to my left. Before me stands a large brown wolf and I know it’s my uncle. His fur is the same brown and my uncles spiked hair, the fur also sticks out all over its back like the styling wax my uncle uses also morphs with him. His eyes are a bright yellow that glow practically in the shadows and their boring down on me. His jaw cracks as another growl escapes his large, pointed teeth. I gulp out of fear and my uncle crouches low, ready to pounce. My hands begin to shake and I can’t steady the gun. My uncle leaps and I fall back as I trip over my own feet, my hands tightening around the gun. As I land with a thud, my head slamming into the wooden floor I hear a soft pop, then something large and brown lands roughly beside me. I roll over and pull myself away, holding my hands up in defense, leaving the gun where I dropped it. My uncle doesn’t move, or growl and I think perhaps he knocked himself out by leaping into one of the roof beams. Then I notice it. A large silver dart sticking out of his rib cage, a bright orange feather at the end of it. I wonder why it looks so familiar till I realize I have another one that looks just like it in my jacket pocket. It’s the tranquilizer dart. Somehow I managed to shoot him when I fell down. Pure luck and that’s the only reason I’m alive now and not some nephew stew. I scramble quickly to retrieve the dart gun and reload it. Who knows where my father is but by now I’m pretty sure he’s the one injured since I didn’t see anything wrong with my uncle. I find the stairs and slowly climb down, the gun aimed in front of me like I see in my video games and violent movies. Mom shouldn’t complain about me watching them now, seeing as I’m werewolf hunting and I managed to take down my uncle. Who am I kidding. She’ll still find a way to keep me from gruesome teenage boy things. I round the corner and notice a blood trial leading off into the corner of the warehouse. Not a sounds come from the shadows. Maybe Uncle Keith killed dad. At just the thought my stomach turns and I hope that isn’t what happened. That dad’s only hurt really bad. I pull out my flashlight and manage to shine it into the shadows while holding the gun one handed. The small round light bounces off crates and then finally sets on a bloody paw. My breath catches as I point the light further up and there I see him. His salt and pepper fur match my dad’s wavy locks perfectly but his fur is matted and clumped together and the red just pops out. He’s hurt, and he’s hurt bad. His eyes, a soft blue look up at me and I’m not reminded of the fierce wolf I shot upstairs, but of the puppy I had when I was little. I don’t hesitate to run forward and lay the gun next to me as I kneel. Somehow I know my dad is in control of himself and I’m in no danger. “Dad, your going to be okay,” I say as I pet his head and try to find where the blood is coming from. I find gruesome gashes in his shoulder and on his side. I don’t know if their claw marks or from teeth but I do know that the wound isn’t closing up and its still bleeding. I quickly pull of my jacket and place it against his side. My dad snaps his jaws at me and whines. “It’s okay dad. I know it hurts but I have to stop the bleeding.” It’s really bad. My jacket is quickly drenched with blood and I don’t know what to do. I struggle to pull out the phone in my pocket. My hands are slick with blood and it takes a few tries to flip open the phone. My fingers mash at the buttons and then hit dial. I wait patiently as the phone rings a few times before I hear my neighbors voice. “Hello?” He doesn’t sound tired at all and I know it’s because he stays awake on full moons because of a promise he made to my dad. At least that’s how I understand it, some type of family debt. “Mr. Rosemary? It’s Alex. My dad’s hurt really bad and I can’t get him to stop bleeding,” I manage to say as calmly as I can but I know he can hear the panic in my voice. So can my father as he pushed his snout into my hands. “Has he turned back yet?” Mr. Rosemary asks. “No,” I choke out. “Okay, good. As soon as he turns I’ll only have minutes to stitch him up before its too late. To keep him in the state he’s in I need you to sedate him. I trust you still have a few tranquilizer darts?” Mr. Rosemary asks. I can hear things clacking in the background. “I have two left,” I answer. “Okay, listen to me carefully. I need you to inject him around his heart. This will keep him sedated long enough for you to get him to my garage. Is Burt still with you?” Mr. Rosemary asks. “Yeah, he’s in the van,” I answer. “Good, get him to help you carry your dad to the car and get him over here as fast as you can, just be mindful of your speed. Tonight would not be a good night to get pulled over,” Mr. Rosemary stats. “Got it. We’ll be there soon,” I say. “I’ll be ready. Also, make sure you stick your uncle one more time so he stays out of it for the rest of the night. We don’t need a loose werewolf running through town,” Mr. Rosemary says. “I’ll take care of it,” There’s no need to say goodbye as I hang up and quickly dial Burt. “I need you in here quickly. Dad’s hurt we have to take him to my neighbors.” “Whoa, what? I’m suppose to put a werewolf in the back of my mom’s van?” Burt asks practically yelling. “He’ll die if we don’t hurry,” I reply noticing that my jacket is no longer doing any good. “Fine, but how are you going to get him over the fence?” Burt asks. I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t think I could lift dad by myself let alone carry him over a ten foot fence. “Burt, your mom’s going to kill us anyway for stealing the van. Might as well make it worth it. Drive through the fence and pull up to the main door. Go ahead and open the back of the van. I’m going to need your help lifting dad and putting him in the van.” I instruct Burt while I pull out one of the darts. “Wait, what’s going on?” Burt asks. “Dad’s hurt really bad. If we don’t move quickly he’s going to die.” So sooner is the word die out of my mouth do I hear the van start up and the tires peeling off through the parking lot. Seconds later I hear the crash of metal on metal and then the screeching of brakes. The warehouses front doors are pulled open and Burt comes rushing in and spots me in the corner. I hang up the phone and shove it into my back pocket. “Dude, what happened?” Burt asks coming to a skid beside me. “Uncle Keith tore him up really good. We have to hurry,” I say as I somehow manage to keep my hands steady as I slip the needle of the dart into the chest of my dad. “I can’t lift him myself, I need you to help.” “Sure,” Burt rounds to the back side of my dad and reaches up underneath the lower side of him. I grab at the shoulders and lift as well. If my dad was still awake I’m sure he would be howling in pain, but now its about speed and we have no time to waste. The jacket falls to the ground and I notice the blood has at least clotted. That’s a good sign but we still need to get him help. We both manage to hobble our way over to the van and slid him into the back. As we do so I notice we’ve gotten blood everywhere. There is no way his moms not killing us now. Burt slams the door shut and rushes to the drivers seat. I pull open the passenger door and stop. We’ve forgotten to grab the jacket and flashlight. Dad mentioned to not leave any evidence in case of an accident. We didn’t need this being traced to us. “What are you waiting for?” Burt asks. “I forgot my jacket and the flashlight, I can’t leave them behind,” I say. “Come on, we have to hurry,” Burt practically shouts. I know he’s now as terrified as me. Either because there’s a sleeping werewolf in the backseat or that he’s realized that his mom will indeed kill him for all this. “I’ll be quick,” I say as I turn and run back inside. I slid to a stop next to my jacket and grab it and the flashlight. I turn back to run towards the warehouse doors and I see Burt waving his hands frantically. I stop confused. What is Burt doing? A growl comes from behind me and I drop the flashlight in shock. I turn slowly and crouching at the bottom of the stairs is my uncle. He sways, still intoxicated from the drug I’m sure. I slowly reach for my pocket and my hand grips at the last dart. I try not to act afraid but one thing my Uncle taught me is that predators can always smell fear. It lets them know what’s prey and what’s not. My heart jumps and my palms become sweaty again and I know he knows I’m afraid. I try to take a step back but that seems to jolt him. I should have stayed still. Things seem to freeze. Know how people say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, well that does indeed happen. Fifteen boring years replay in my mind as my Uncle pounces once again. I think of how Burt and I used to torture Mr. Rosemary by teepeeing his yard, or the time I first meet Ashley and tried to preteen for five years that she was just a friend, the time Burt and I camped in the woods for a week straight and dad said it was because I knew I belonged running through the trees, and I also remembered how Ashley looked after she saw Sarah and I eat at the pizza diner. I remember the tears she cried and my heart broke. I can see the saliva dripping from my uncles jaws as his claws stretch before him. I raise my arms in defense the dart outstretched, my only weapon of defense. I know I’m a goner as his weight slams into me and pushes me to the ground. Pain blinds my senses as I cry out, and suddenly I can’t breath. Spots blink before my eyes and I struggle to take a breath in but I can’t get any air to catch in my lung. I feel something pool against my stomach and then my skins on fire. Burning like never before. My toes curl and I can feel tears slip from the corner of my eyes. I can barely hear something at the edge of the warehouse but ringing blares it out. The weight is lifted from me and I immediately curl into the fetal position still struggling to get air into my lungs. My chest is on fire now and the tears keep coming. I’m dieing, this is what it feels like and the thought crosses my mind against the shooting stars playing with my vision. I’m crying, curled up in the fetal position. I’m going to die a girly death. And then I hear him. Burt, he’s calling out my name. Shaking at my shoulder and suddenly I can breath again. I start gasping and coughing. I can taste blood in the back of my mouth. I must have bitten my cheek when my Uncle crashed into me. “Alex, you okay man? Please don’t die on me,” Burt keeps shaking me and I begin to blink. I’m okay. My toes uncurl and a slow ache fills my chest and my arm. Nothing is burning anymore. I finally manage a few deep breaths with out chocking on them too bad. I roll over and sit up, wincing a bit at the gash on my arm. “Dude, that doesn’t look good,” Burt says taking a good look at it. The skin is flayed back and I can see white underneath all the red. The skin is puffed out around it and I realized what happened. My uncle scratched me. My heart sinks. This is the one thing my father didn’t want to happen. I wasn’t suppose to be bitten or scratched which is why I was suppose to stay away tonight. Dad said he could handle it and I messed up. I did the one thing my father ever promised me not to do. “Dad’s going to be pissed,” I manage to say. “Only if he lives, come on,” Burt pulls me to my feet and drags me toward the van. I see my uncle curled up on the warehouse floor, the dart sticking from his neck. Hopefully with two darts in him, he won’t wake till he transforms back. Not my biggest concern is getting to my neighbors before my dad forms back into his less hairy self. |