Scary Monsters

Help, my Date is a Werewolf

There are two things in life I love more than anything: numbers and climbing. Working as an accountant made it necessary to balance my brainy cubicle job with physical activity. Even minor injuries don't keep me from following my passion. So when I went out bouldering with a few of my friends this Saturday, I immediately chose the most complicated route despite my strained right biceps.

And of course, I fell. Mike, whose job was to secure me, wasn't fast enough. Either he was still hungover from yesterday, or he was distracted by his relationship problems. All the same to me. I was finished. In the last moment, a woman blurred into view with impossible speed. She threw all her weight onto the rope and stopped my fall. I bumped my shoulder painfully against the rock, but luckily I escaped with a bruise.

Mike apologized over and over again. He was beside himself, even though I assured him that I was okay. The woman introduced herself as Sonja. She was in her late twenties and built like an athlete. Sonja may not have been a supermodel by general beauty standards, but her aura was magnetic. She moved with such grace and self-esteem that I was drawn to her immediately. I thanked her for saving my life and sheepishly invited her to a date. Her eyes smiled mischievously, and I thought I could sense something wild and exciting under the surface. She agreed, and we made plans to go to a fancy restaurant together that evening. My friends teased me about having to jump from a mountain to get a date, but I didn't care. I was looking forward to seeing Sonja again.

When she walked in later that night, she looked simply stunning. Turning heads and being the center of attention came naturally to her. When I pointed out to her that one of the waiters was all but drooling after her, she laughed and asked me if that was a problem. I assured her that I could handle it. The date went well. We had good food and an interesting conversation. Sonja told me that she was into extreme sports like skydiving, surfing, and downhill mountain biking. No wonder I liked her. She had basically the same hobbies I did.

After our date had ended, I invited her up to my apartment for a cup of coffee, and Sonja seemed like she couldn't be happier. We sat down at my kitchen table, and I watched in amusement as she shamelessly flirted with me. When I sensed that Sonja was about to make her move, I calmly opened a can of dog food and slid it over to her. She raised her eyebrows. I explained that if a bloodthirsty werewolf like her could act like a tamed lapdog, I would treat her accordingly.

She snarled in anger, and her features started to change. Her fingers became claws and her jaw seemed to get longer. Then she came at me. Sonja jumped over the table with impossible speed. I ducked out of the way and gave her a little extra shove with my shoulder. She rolled, came up on all fours, and stared at me with animalistic fury in her eyes. No matter how often you see one of these beasts change into their animal form, it is always unnerving. I quickly drew the hidden Glock from under the table and leveled it on the monster. I knew that it would take her a few seconds to fully change and that she couldn't really move during that time.

I calmly explained to Sonja that I was a hunter and that I had faked my injury and my clumsiness. She didn't go out with me because of my charming personality. Like every predator, she went for the easiest prey. The weak one. My injury and my fall made me a wounded animal in her eyes, so she instinctively went for me. I shrugged my shoulders and let the silver bullets wrap things up. Then I ran out the door.

The howls coming from all directions were filled with pure bloodlust and rage. Sonja had brought her pack. They had planned to make me their weekend entertainment, by chasing me through the city like an injured rabbit. I let out a mocking howl myself and sprinted to my bike. The engine roared and I hit the streets of Chicago fast. The beasts were hot on my tail. Both me and the wolves were moving with insane speed. Even if the police had been out in force, they didn't have anything that could catch up to us.

I looked over my shoulder and saw shadows move on rooftops and in alleys. These were experienced hunters. It must have been one of the old Scandinavian packs. If I slowed down right now, I was finished. I led the monsters to an abandoned industrial area with old car factories and rotting office buildings. I jumped off my bike and drew my weapons. The wolves were on me immediately.

But I was not alone. The thunder of heavy guns split the night, and two of the five werewolves yelped in agony as my friends opened fire. Mike and Andy stood at my side, silver blades in hand. The last three wolves came at us with ancient rage, but we were ready to dance. It was a mess. And I loved it. I was okay with handling my business up close and personal. This time we all limped away with real injuries, but that didn't matter. We beat the pack. We bested them. This night belonged to us.

As much as I enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, I wasn't a good Samaritan. I was an entrepreneur. We packed up and handed the wasted beasts over to Agent Ramirez, who was pleased with our work. The government paid well for dead monsters, and we were the best in the business. We had taken out the trash without collateral damage. The good people of Chicago were safe once more. I smiled and looked up to the stars.

When Agent Ramirez tried to pounce on my back, I couldn't help but laugh. Mike calmly removed the UV filter from his flashlight and bathed the compromised agent in artificial daylight. The vampire caught on fire immediately. We had been onto him from the day he was turned. These monsters never learn. All those supernatural bad guys think they are tough. But this is a human world. And me and my team are the most dangerous thing out there. Period.