Behind Lies A Wolf

Two

What does it mean to be a werewolf? Is it a curse? Or just another mystery of life? The pack I stayed with claimed to not know either, but their actions said something else. They believed it to be a curse. A crappy one day a month in an otherwise perfect life. They prided themselves in being as normal as they could be. But one night a month they had to excuse themselves early from book club due to a family emergency or they couldn't go out after work because they had to get up early the next morning. They told any little white lie they could to hide the one night a month they changed into a monster. I was tired of being fake all the time, pretending to be normal, hiding myself from the world. But it was fine. Life was a little tiring, but whose wasn't?

Things were still good at that point. It wasn't until three months ago that they took a turn for worst.

I had contracted a rare disease that had infected a few throughout our pack. It can lead to turning feral, when one has no control over their wolf -- it runs free. Some know it as The Bane, a wolf's weakness, it leads to their end.

Last full moon was when The Bane took affect. Of the five others infected, two turned feral. It was terrible to watch. They shifted into their wolves even though it was an entire week before the full moon.

I felt an urge, too. Something telling me to relinquish control.

Aren't you tired of living a lie. It doesn't have to feel like this. You can finally be happy. 

I don't know whether the two men had heard the same thing and if that was why they changed, but the voice was right. No one here was actually happy. How could you be if you hated the single greatest thing about yourself. And I knew they did, hate it that is. If they could, I'm sure they would do anything to be human again. Give up a kidney, saw off a leg, sell their souls. I didn't want to live like that, the voice was right.

I had no reason to hate it. I think the only reason they did was because it was inconvenient for them.

The urge became stronger, but I still kept control behind the bars, sitting hunched over in the dungeon they left me in. It wasn't new, everyone changed inside a dungeon. But this felt different, others were sitting outside, watching me, studying my every move. If I had to guess, I would say that at least two of them wagered if I would change or not.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice that they moved until I heard a yelping and smelled blood. Two cages over, one of the men lied dead, fur soaked crimson. My body was completely still except for the occasional shiver. It wasn't until they stepped up to the next cage that I dared to move. I tucked my knees closer to my chest and quietly sobbed. The blood from the other man seeped through the bars and slowly soaked my pants. It was warm but quickly became cold from contact with the concrete floor.

While being so close to a change my senses were heightened and the metallic stench of blood burned my nose. And then nothing.

I was no longer aware of what was happening around me. I was only scared, no longer terrified. I suddenly knew what that voice belonged to, the voice that got everything right.

My breathing calmed. How about you and me make a deal.  I sent my thoughts to the other voice.

What could you possibly offer to appease me. I could never miss out on a chance like this. The voice, the wolf inside me, was determined to take the control the virus offered her.

We both know that I can't keep control away from you for much longer but if you take over now we both die here. Her silence hit the air, she knew it was true. If you hold off on taking control we can both escape with our lives. Once we are free from harm we can split control of my body. If you attempt to take full control I will come back here and tell them to kill me.

Why would you make such a deal, you are a foolish human. She told me.

If I break our deal you can take full control of my body.

It was just me and her, standing in an empty space, staring back at each other. She finally spoke.

A deal with a wolf is binding. If you break it your blood will boil.

Are you lying? I have never heard of such a thing. I was skeptical.

How could you? None of these people here know anything about us wolves. They call themselves werewolves but can not even say what that means. She never even tried to hide her contempt for them. They hated her, so it was only natural that she hated them.

Then, I guess we have a deal.

Almost immediately my gums stopped aching, my skin stopped itching, and my breathing calmed. I raised my head and looked at the people in front of me. They continued looking me over while I crawled to the blanket in the corner and lied down.

They must have been waiting things out because when I awoke the next morning the door was still locked. I sat and waited for about a half hour before anyone came downstairs again.

"Oh, you're up." A young man named Robbie said. "I thought for sure you were a goner." He scratched his stubble and looked back to me.

I stared back at him, not saying anything.

"I was told I could let you out once you woke up. If your wolf hasn't taken over by now, she's not going to. Wolves always take over the second they can."

I now knew that wasn't true, but there was no way I was going to tell him that. His words echoed through my mind, how he talked about what he knew of wolves. It made me angry, I wondered if that was her influence.

Now that you no longer resist me, I can come closer to the surface instead of being shackled down below. I had a feeling she knew what I was thinking and responded accordingly.

Robbie unlocked the door and I silently got up and went through it.

"There's breakfast upstairs if you want some." How could he act so friendly when I was nearly killed.

I acted as though everything was normal for the next few day but the waxing moon was nearly full and I left.

So, what does it mean to be a werewolf?

I am still learning but, I think it means being two sides of a coin. Acknowledging that there is another side to you.

Did those men hear their wolves before they died? Did they have to make the same choice as me? Were they happy to die for their beliefs? I don't like to judge people but I still can't help feeling that they died for nothing. They threw their life away because they were told it was the thing to do, to hate themselves for what they really were. Such a waste.