Song of the Street Wolf

Ultimatum

The raining had intensified as John neared Red Moon, the centre and biggest of the Pack's bases. It beat against his two layers of jackets, which were almost soaked through to the skin on his back. His machete was swinging in his right hand; he had gone and killed a couple dozen lurkers, so that even the rain wouldn't wash away the blood. He had his hand in his pocket, and made no attempt to hide that he was gripping his gun inside. John's heart, contrary to what he had thought, was beating with a slow and steady rhythm, while his footfalls were as purposeful as his strides were long. Rain was dripping from his beard and the edge of his hood, which fell over his eyes and made him appear distant and powerful. John was gathering the true Street Wolf aura about himself; he wanted himself to radiate power, so that nobody dared attack him, even as he ventured into the heart of his enemy's territory.

Bone strode beside him, his shoulders broad and heavy, with his head bowed against the rain. His legs were long and lank, with paws the size of small saucers, tipped with blunt claws that could still tear gashes in a human's skin. His strides were nearly as long as John's, and they walked with the same attitude and intent that you could have sworn they were the same soul, only in different bodies.

Their eyes cut through the rain and gloom like knives. Blue and yellow. Ice and fire.

"Alpha!" John boomed, standing in the centre of the town. Everybody was inside their makeshift homes and did not see his approach. John had practiced what he was going to say. He had even taught Bone to add in at certain points.

"Alpha! The Street Wolf comes with Ragaroth, bearing news from the Spirit himself!"

There was panicked shouting, and people streamed out of the homes with weapons. Some of them were in pyjamas. 'Pathetic,' thought John. 'You never sleep in clothes you can't fight in.' He saw people advancing on him, but he had studied these people for months. He knew what he needed to do.

John lifted his lips, revealing his sharp canines. They used to give him an air of wild happiness when he smiled at a customer. It was a smile people liked. Now, those naturally pointed teeth were being used to cow men bigger than him into silence. He thanked God for giving him these canines, to further impress upon them that he was their mythical figure. He was the Street Wolf.

"If you lay one hand on me, I will level your entire community," John warned, shifting his stance to bump Bone's left shoulder with his right hip. At this cue, Bone let out a rumbling growl so loud and deep that it made John's teeth vibrate. He knew the others felt the effects.

"Bring me Alpha. Now!" ordered John. Nobody moved, and he raked his eyes across the crowd, putting as much violence and danger into his gaze as possible. John had a nagging thought: 'What if they don't move. What then?'

"Do you all know why the Spirit is grieving today?" he started. It was rhetoric question. "He weeps for you. He weeps for his children." John tried to spit the last word like it was poison in his mouth. People stirred all around him, but none made a move against him. John mentally grinned.

"He has sent me to you all to deliver you a message. Hark to these words, for they will shake you to the core of your little dog souls." Bone shook his head from side to side, letting out a rough, vicious snarl. People visible flinched.

"I left the heavens long ago, forsaking the life of untouched potential to actually use it. My brother let me go, but he made me promise one thing: bring pride back to the name of the Wolf.

"Those who stand before me are not wolves! You do not have the fire in your blood nor the iron in your heart! You have the hearts of dogs and the minds of humans. You are not hunters! I stand before you now, in the tears of your god, the Spirit of the Pack, to challenge you to regain your honour!"

John's eyes searched the crowd again, and he found Alpha standing between two larger men. He was hiding, and he gave no indication to John that he knew John saw him. John pretended like he didn't. Instead, he took a deep breath through his nose, and threw his hood back.

"I smell your leader. He is among us now, and he is afraid," he said, letting a smile stretch across face. There were audible gasps, and John saw Alpha's face pale.

"Step forward, Alpha Wolf!" cried John mockingly. He added a snarl at the end of the world for added effect. It seemed to do his act justice. John turned his gaze slowly and deliberately to Alpha as he slunk out from the crowd.

"Street Wolf!" Alpha exclaimed, putting on brave face. "State your challenge, though it is baseless! The Pack has more honour than you or your fallen angel!" Alpha pointed an acusing finger at Bone, who responded by growling and enlarging the large ruff of black fur around his neck. His teeth, whiter than lightning and twice as sharp, gleamed brightly in the dim light of the rainy day.

"You speak as if you know the meaning of the word, but you do not. I stand to challenge you to brawl, wolf versus wolf. Whoever walks away truly has the Spirit's favour, and will in turn own the city for himself."

The rain splashed, the wind blew, and Alpha's face remained unreadable. John watched a vein snake up his forehead. Silence reigned. John kept his eyes glued to Alpha's, but the other man would never hold his gaze for long.

"Has the Spirit made any requests for the battle?" he asked quietly, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the weather.

"No weapons may be used. Only bodies."

"Who will be the victor?"

"He who walks away alive."

The words hung heavy in the air. Bone looked up at John, and John met his eyes. He gave a swift shake of his head. "Ragaroth, you hunger must be satisfied elsewhere." That was enough to send some of the more cowardly ones to the back of the crowd. Bone ran his tongue over his teeth.

"I accept your challenge, Street Wolf. Where and when shall this fight occur?

John pointed to the south. Everybody followed his hand, even Bone. "There is a convergence where two dirt roads intersect, about a mile from the city. Tomorrow, meet me at the crossroads."