Antiquities: A Short Story Collection

The Boy & The Wolf

The Boy

The wolf came at me. I was so taken by its speed and beauty. I loved wolves. Fear overtook awe, and it was too late. It knocked me to the ground. It's paws knocked the wind out of me. My head hit the pavement and left me staring upward, stunned. My breath caught in my throat. It leaned over me. His russet fur looked like rusted blood in the dim light of the streetlights outside the alley.

His teeth didn't leave his power to the imagination. His muzzle bunched up into a menacing snarl. His eyes were a stunning, solid amber. They took me in with all the intensity that a predator should. I'm sure I was trembling. A deep sound revved in its chest. I inched my hands into the surrender position. Those teeth struck at me, grinding my soft skin like meat through a grinder.

I hardly recognized the screams that left me. A soft drizzle of rain that blanketed us. I ripped my hand out of it's jaws and beat at it's chest, head, anything I could reach. It'd gotten a taste of me now and persisted. Even my strongest blow felt half-hearted in it's frenzy.

The gloomy, ugly rain clouds loomed over us and their waters soaked me from top to bottom. Adrenaline kept the worst of its terrors from me, but I could see it unfolding. The darkness of my blood and my bone, teasing through sundered flesh. Numbness settled over me further and I scrambled to free myself. My hands slipped across the pavement, useless and mangled. How many fingers was I missing?

The creature looked past me, to the meal I provided. The walls began to melt around me. I willed my arms to move be they bounced off the animal. It placed a heavy paw on my chest and it's head disappeared into my midriff. A warm bile began to block my airway. I tried to cough it up but it kept coming. My eyes bulged. It felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. I could only writhe and crawl against the bloody concrete. Loose gravel scratched up my back and bare arms. I was blacking out. The panic couldn't keep me awake any longer, but I fought it anyway because that was the human thing to do.

The Wolf

His skin gave way beneath my teeth. I could feel it wedge between my lips and over my gums. The sounds he made were soft, frightened things. He saw a beast. I was a beast. I'd show them what savage was.

I crushed his wrist in my jaws. The bones were hard, but gave way when I pressed then. His blood exploded into my mouth and it tasted bitter. They'd never solve his murder. I had no connections with anyone here. And when would I stop? When I made some? Connections that is. When I was damn well ready to. When they paid for ruining my life. I didn't matter, then why should they.

I ran my tongue over my muzzle. This boy had come through this alley, on his way home. Maybe he had family waiting for him. I'd never know. His face paled, frozen in some breed of horror. His dirty blonde hair was wet and stained all sorts of odd colors in this wicked light.

The boy's young eyes were losing their grasp on our stage. It made me curious. What exactly was it like to die? I could only imagine the things he felt when he realized he wasn't going to make it home. His breaths were short, desperate puffs. His body writhed like a snake writhes on a hot blacktop.

His blood filled cracks in the pavement and wound their way to the sewer drain. He choked. I put enthusiasm into gutting him, hoping he could feel my passion. His eyes stared, but his body relaxed in my jaws. The eyes were usually the first thing to lose their vigor.

The dark rain clouds sprinkled my art with glitter. I'd never stop, I couldn't if I wanted to. The moment they couldn't see me, I was moving on. This boy was no exception. I left him, sprawled and gutted. It gutted me too. I left that place, and still nobody saw me. I would go home like always, and wait. Wait for someone new to catch my eye, or morning, or for the rain to stop. Waiting is alway the hardest part of it all.