The Last Werewolf (Vidar #1) | ONC2021 Grand Winner

Nobody messes with dogs

Mo's Super Supreme without Pork was more cold than lukewarm when Vidar took it out of his backpack and placed it on the green bench. The box was sticky; his fingers too now. The scent of grease was strong, but luckily, the stains hadn't leaked through the leather. A good scrub and it would be as good as new.

Vidar sat down, fished his handkerchief out of the depths of his pocket, and wiped his hands clean. Sunna's last rays coloured the park in a red hue. One by one, the handful of humans present by the pond grabbed their bags or simply rose to their feet and retreated to the warmer bars outside the park. Clearly, they had learnt that the polder's only resident hated alcohol. Would they know what he was? Or did they simply treat Lange Wapper like the harmless halfwit he was?

Lange Wapper wasn't sitting in the hut on the jetty, like last time. But before initiating a search party, Vidar decided to wait for Mo. It was five past nine, and he was fashionably late, as per the Ifrit's grammatically incorrect motto, 'The party don't start 'til I walk in.'

Vidar's stomach grumbled, more craving the meat than being hungry. Bored from waiting, he took a slice and then another one. And a third one, telling himself it was a sin to let the pizza grow cold.

A light coming from a nearby lantern flicked on as the sky turned purple. The park was deserted.

Suddenly, a crack echoed through the clearing. Out of the trees appeared a shadow, at first no bigger than Vidar's shoe but gradually expanding yet growing thinner.

Lange Wapper staggered stiffly. Occasionally, he stood still to shake, like a dog fresh out of the water. His faltering walk disappeared as he noticed Vidar. His long legs almost ran faster than his body.

He wrapped his arms around Vidar. "Sir Wolf, you came back."

"Brought candy and games," Vidar said. Awkwardly, he slipped out of the shapeshifter's embrace. "I invited a friend too."

"Where is he now?"

"At the hospital."

"Oh, is he hurt?" Lange Wapper asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, he works there."

He puffed his cheeks, frowning. "What's work?"

"Something you do to earn money. Like, the humans that come to the park to empty the trashcans."

Lange Wapper didn't react. Instead, he reached for Vidar's phone lying on the bench. "You have a Rainbow Music Maker."

Vidar snatched his phone away before the shapeshifter managed to put his bony fingers around it. "It's a boring plastic brick," he lied. "No funny sounds or colours."

Instantly, the shapeshifter shrunk. His voice shifted to a shrill tone. "But you said you had games."

"A deck of cards." Vidar pulled the zipper at the side of his backpack and rummaged through the compartment. He flung two bags of gummy bears onto the bench, one sweet, the other sour. He would keep the Kit Kats for when Mo was there; the Ifrit didn't eat jellied candy. "What's your favourite—poker, bridge, blackjack?"

"War," said the rising figure.

Of course. There wasn't a simpler game.

As the lanky giant joined him on the bench, Vidar shook the cards out of their box, cut the deck, then shuffled them. Face-down, they each selected a card until both had five in their hands.

In the first round, Vidar won the first battle by playing a Jack of Hearts against Lange Wapper's Nine of Clubs. Then, the shapeshifter played a King of Diamond. A lucky move, since Vidar had decided to get rid of the Ace of Spades early in the game.