MUTATION: THE FATE OF A SOLE SURVIVOR

Chapter 3: The Legend of the Demon Wolf

     The trainings I gave to Quick Fangs weren't any normal dog trainings. The dog needed to know that our enemies weren't normal living being but contaminated vessels itching for our blood. One of the hardest trainings I gave to Quick Fangs was how to kill a target without spilling blood. Although a fast learner, it found it hard to adapt to my instructions because of the dog's grievous past.
     There was a book I had picked up sometime ago from a drawer in the kitchen. It contained all of Quick Fangs history and it's real name, Caesar. Caesar was yet to be born in his mother's womb when his mother's original owner took a trip in a forest along with his wife in their honeymoon. The newly weds however got separated from Caesar's mother when they stumbled upon a place familiar to the she-dog. It was her ancestral home, her original habitat before her generation submitted to man. Following the divine instincts from her ancestors, she wondered about in the mountains until she was completely lost.
     Caesar was born later on and learned his wild instincts from his mother. They hunted down preys like a pack and came back to their den with victorious meals. But one day, while Caesar was quenching his thrist from a river lake, he heard the wounded cry of his mother and rushed to see what had become of her. He was already too late. His mother was beaten to death mercilessly by a group of men who had been paid to get rid of them, since they were killing off some of the domestic animals of a nearby village. Watching his mother die in horror set his bones on fire. He was described as a demon as he singlehandedly attacked and killed most of them, forcing the rest to flee and report what they had seen. Day and night, men where sent to hunt him down, and the legend of a demon wolf was born from this lone dog.
     The villagers became desperate as the demon wolf conquered even the strongest of their hunters, so they sent news to the surrounding villages, urging them for assistance. It was from then that Bennett Neilson, an American foreign hunter who was travelling through one of the villages, was summoned by the locals for support. Bennett went with a handful of men and searched the woods for the demon wolf.
     Caesar made a surprise attack on the third day of their hunt at midnight, killing off one of the men who was sleeping on his mattress. He also damaged their food supply and escaped while being hotly pursued by the remaining men. Bennett had to stay behind to save the wounded hunter who later gave up the ghost at last. He then heard series of gunshots from afar, the shouts and curses of his men and the dead silence that followed afterwards.
     Are they alright? Was the first question that entered his head. He picked up his own gun and walked right into the path his men took. What behold him was his answer. Seven hunters, all dead. At first glance, one would think that they were butchered by a demon with vicious claws and with a bloodthirsty urge. He himself was now witnessing first hand the legend of the demon wolf.
     A small noise to his right drew his attention, and it was all thanks to God that he saw caesar soaring through the air and straight for his throat. He blocked the attack with his gun, but at the same time lost it from the shock he received. Caesar threw the weapon away and rushed back in to fight. Bennett, now mentally prepared, brought out a revolver and aimed it at caesar. The dog's reaction to the sight of the weapon surprised him. Caesar darted in a zigzag manner while going straight towards Bennett. The hunter smirked and immediately took off his coat in a nick of time, blocking off another body-launching attack from caesar. At the same time, he twisted the coat toward his left side and let go of it, disrupting Caesar's landing. Before Caesar could get back up, a bullet hit his left hind leg and forced him back to the ground.
     With one leg down, Caesar conceded defeat. He had always knew that his time would eventually come, when he couldn't continue to punish the humans for his mother's death. His only regret was that he didn't give up without a fight. He waited for Bennett to pull the trigger and seal the deal, but instead, Bennett knelt down beside him and shook his head, saying:
     " I've finally found you, Caesar".
     Caesar didn't understood this hunter at all. Instead of killing him, Bennett treated his wound and took the dog back with him. He lied about Caesar's death and covered it up with the head of a dead wolf he killed. The villagers praised him and awarded him handsomely, while Bennett hurriedly left two days later so that they wouldn't discover that Caesar was still alive.
     To cut a long story short, Bennett was Caesar's owner. The man knew his mother too well, and guessed right away that he was the pup. He had also given Caesar his name before he was ever born. Bennett cared for Caesar for five months before developing heart cancer. Not wanting Caesar to be alone, he sold him off to a young and retired Brazilian soldier named José Antônio. While he was finishing off his story for José, who only God knows his whereabouts, he gave his last request:
     " In light of everything I've said, I beg you, my good friend, to take care of the dog. His puppyhood was filled with pain and rage. The dog, if not handled properly, may revamp back to his demonic ways. I saved it from the dark, so I expect you keep it from the dark. Just as you would protect something that is very precious to you, so I beg you to protect Caesar as well. I'm not gonna survive this disease(unlucky me), but I have one more final request. When Caesar dies, bury him beside my grave, so that he won't feel lonely anymore".
     When I first read that, I thought that the only one feeling lonely was Bennett. But as the days flew by, I came to realise that I too was beginning to bond with the dog. I later understood the love between the man and his dog. It was similar to Blue and me, and even though it was painful, it suddenly began to felt reassuring. I began to grow very fond of Quick Fangs, because just like Blue, it was always there for me, even in my insanity.

***

     I had visited Max a few days after his friend's funeral. He looked more depressed than before, making me feel a but uneasy with how he was taking this loss serious.
     " You shouldn't let this loss wear you down General", I warned.
     " It's not about him", he replied, sniffing back his tears," It's about his mother".
     " His mother, what about her?".
     " Poor woman, the loss of her son drove her into despair. She tried to kill herself a few hours ago had it not been for me to intervene".
     " Jesus Christ! Thank goodness she's saved".
     " Yep. Just like I said before Joe, the greatest pain is the death of your love ones. It's enough to turn anyone into an animal, a sane person insane. It's not easy to fight against this form of depression, and it will grow worse when you lose more of your loved ones. By that time, only God knows what such a person will become, because everything that mattered before becomes senseless and worthless".
     He sighed and looked at me," My dad suffered that type of syndrome when my mother died, because he loved her so much that she was everything he hoped for. Her death drove him into a madman, a psychopath killing innocent people, until one man saved his soul with a bullet straight into his head, after realizing that he was beyond saved".
     " And that man...?", I asked midway.
     He nodded his head and replied," Was me".

***

     It was a friday evening. The TV woke White Fangs up from his slumber as he laid on the couch. It looked sideways and noticed my absence. The sound of roaring tunderclaps informed him that it was raining outside. He raised his head up and saw nothing through the window, only pitch black darkness. He stretched his body and bounced down from the cough, heading straight for the bedroom. Confirming my absence again, he went to the empty room where I would usually lock myself up. To his surprise, the door wasn't locked, and no one was there.
     Frightened, he gave off a mournful howl, then went and searched every nuke and crank of the house. After confirming my absence once more, it went to the boots I wore yesterday, sniffed it, picked up my scent and left the house through a window he opened himself. The wet night bothered him not. All what was in his mind was to find me again, or else he would be lonely once more.
     The rain almost washed off my footprints, but White Fangs was still able to make meaning into it and followed the trail. He found himself into the dead city, lifeless as usual. He kept his ears down for zombies while his nose tracked me down. The minutes went by, and he knew he had to find me quickly or he will lose track of me. The rain became heavier, and the scent finally died out. Defeated, he had to rush into a nearby alley to avoid the cold that followed the rain. He crawled up beside a dumpster and cuddled himself, trying his best to ignore the rain and force himself to sleep to continue the search tomorrow.
     His ears however picked up a familiar sound in the midst of the rain. Although it wasn't really that clear, he could still make it out who it was. White Fangs crawled out from his sleeping pit and followed the sound to the end of the alley. The sound turned into more sounds, all sounding the same and familiar, with one sound completely different but with a wailing voice. He reached the end and observed the scenery. Corpses were shattered everywhere. One hanged on the left side of the wall with an axe on it's head.  A headless body rested beside it with a fountain of blood gushing out from the neck. The rest were indescribable, except for one zombie who was at the brick of death with no hands and legs. It howled in terror as a mighty figure towered above it, axe at hand for judgement. The figure laughed for a long time, frightening the zombie even more, until it raised it's axe high above it's head and brought it down repeatedly upon the zombie, violently chopping it in half. White Fangs had a neutral expression to this and just observed, while the figure dropped to it's knees and breathed heavily after the bloody execution.
     I was that figure, soaked in blood and rain, corrupted by my own madness and driven my the voices in my head. I dropped the axe on a right side and fell down on the opposite side. I closed my eyes and let the tears flow once more. A wet tongue licked me on my face, forcing my eyes to open and catch sight of White Fangs. The latter continued licking, making soft whining voices while patting my right shoulder with his right paw. I reached out with my right hand and patted his head. He welcomed my hand, then grabbed my shirt with his teeth and pulled, indicating that I should get up. Smiling, I obeyed and got up on my knees. I saw the puppy look on his face and realised that he was feeling lonely. I smiled and hugged him, whispering into his ear," Don't worry White Fangs, I promise I'll never let anything separate me from you. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'll be right by your side always".
     Those words gave hope to this demon wolf, but those words were the words I regretted saying the most.