Fergus Finlay was the boy who would be seen causing trouble around Midtown High, walking around with his pack of cards and wit to save him from trouble. However, he was in for a rude wake-up call; history was awakening, and it had set its eyes on Fe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Days passed alarmingly fast. He tried to tidy the old clock tower to his taste, thinking if he was to live there he had to make it more comfortable. It didn't take long for him to clean it from its thousand cobwebs and dust. After all, Fergus no longer had held any responsibility other than taking care of himself.
He hid the grenades and guns into a hole that had been punched into the wall. The whole itself had been covered up by an antique cupboard that had definitely seen better days. Bruno had left him after a couple of days, and for a minute, Fergus had thought he missed the bird. But he knew it wasn't natural for a wild animal to keep going back to a human, so he pushed the feeling deep down, never wanting to come across the feeling of longing ever again.
He also had hours and hours of time to study, feel and practice his newfound powers. It seemed easier now he was isolating himself, there wasn't a nagging feeling in the back of his skull making his hands clammy it head hurt from anxiety.
No, this time it was just the chilly breeze and his own mind.
He knew he had to leave once again, find a place to clean himself, possibly steal a new set of clothes as well. With the time spent in the clock tower, Fergus bad grown more bitter and hateful. After trying to practice his magic as he now called it, there seemed to be a constant hum coming from his body and soul (if he even had one).
It was not hard, he found himself alert and constantly switching in odd ways. He had gone on the streets a late night, but he found out he was now hearing a lot more and sensing almost everything within a half a mile. It was easy to steal clothes, but as the night progressed and his blood seemed to almost sing, he knew something was definitely wrong.
His pale face was now hidden in the shadows of a hoodie he had stolen, he kept moving in the neighbourhood that seemed to terribly need it's own Spiderman.
His senses seemed to scream at him as suddenly two men became in his view. He frowned suspiciously, pulling the trench coat closer to his body. The moment the men were beside him, they wasted no time pushing the enchanted boy into the alley, harshly shoving him against the cobbled wall as their hungry eyes we're filled with the need for money and use of drugs. Fergus, do his own amazement, had stayed completely calm when he had felt the dip of a knife being pressed just under his ribs.
The larger man was holding him pressed against the wall while the slightly lankier one was standing on guard. Fergus found it amusing. “Give us all your cash, punk. Or we'll find your organs splattered across the pavement.” the man said sternly and his eyes held a hint of promise. The thing with Gus was that he had no penny on him.
He sighed, lowering his hands he had held up. The man who reeked of piss and drugs narrowed his eyes, pressing the knife deeper into his skin. It was starting to hurt now. “Take off the knife, rat.” his time was bone-chilling, cold and too calm for someone who was being mugged in the middle of the night. The man sneered, a twinkle of amusement flashing in his large pupils as the second man was standing from one foot to another nervously.
“Ya hear this, T-bone? This kid is trying to negotiate.” Fergus sighed in bemusement, there was nothing about negotiating. Suddenly the man turned serious again, getting in Fergus' space even more. “The money, now.” his breath was disgusting, his brownish-yellow teeth visible behind the grin. He could feel the blood trickle down his stomach, staining the newly stolen clothes into the colour of dark red.
What happened next, was nothing like in the movies or books. Because what happened next, was not fiction, it was as real as the climate change.
Fergus sighed in relief as a sudden feeling of excitement and blood lust washed over him, he even closed his green orbs in the bliss when shadows themselves wrapped around him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as the men screamed, but the world seemed to slow down for a second.
The shadows –or was it his magic?– Danced over his skin, sinking into his blood and changing his appearance. It felt exhilarating and most of all, powerful. He didn't understand the magic that kept flowing all around him, calling out the dead and the darkness, singing the song of a lone wolf.
There he stood, eyes blazing and fangs visible against the cold moonlight. The two men were frozen in fear and he could smell how terrified they were. He threw his head back and allowed the sound burst from his large chest, he could not contain it, the need to howl to the moon and let it now he was finally there.
Taken by the sight, the men has no mind to run, and that made The Wolf's job easier. He lunged at the first man, the one who had tried to stab him earlier. His two large paws pushed against his chest, forcing him on the ground with a startled cry of pain. The screams stopped as his teeth sunk into the man's throat, the irony blood flowing over his sharp teeth and onto the cold, dirty pavement underneath the gurgling man. He shook his head twice, making sure to hear the slight pop of his spinal cord before releasing the corpse.
The Wolf raised his head dangerously slowly, puffing his large chest in pride as his golden eyes made contact with the lanky man who had pressed himself against the opposite wall.
They stood there, taking in each other. The man's limbs were shaking as he begged the wolf, while the wolf tilted his large head in curiosity, his glowing eyes keenly on the shaking man as he studied him. He could smell the bitter drugs in his system, and he did not like drugs. “please, please it was not my idea, please..” it was amusing to the Wolf and he wondered if he should leave the man alive, he was good at entertaining.
But the man-made one mistake, and it was running from a wolf.
And the wolf could not hold back as the instincts forced him to take two large jumps and push the man on the ground. He cried out, the blood flowing from the small injures on his palms as the Wolf locked his large jaws around the back of his neck, biting it accidentally off in the frenzy.
Then the silence was slightly better, but the drugs in his system made the Wolf sneeze, he hated the bitter taste and spar out the blood that had been in his tongue.
He panted, the adrenaline running in his veins as he tried to put a leash on all the senses that threatened to overpower him. Eventually, the Wolf gave up and ran into the darkness in dire need to release some energy.
But when the Wolf was thriving, Fergus was buried deep into his mind, oblivious to what horrors and chaos that were going on in the city of New York.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
