by Mia Archer
“Try to stay calm,” I said. “And could you please bring me my purse?”
Cara clutched it to her chest and shook her head. I rolled my eyes.
“In that case could you please slide my purse across the room?” I asked.
She put the purse on the floor and gave it a kick. I reached in and pulled out my gun. I double checked that I still had some bullets.
It wouldn’t do to be without bullets, after all. Even if it did suck that I was going to have to shoot one of my friends.
She wouldn’t understand, either. She was still my friend, deep down. Even if she had been transformed into a terrible monster that would have to be put down.
It’s not like there was a cure for lycanthropy. There was none of that bullshit about changing them back by killing the main werewolf. I don’t know what the writers for An American Werewolf in Paris were thinking when they tried to port that bit of vampire rules over to werewolves.
There was another bang, and this time the metal wall on Sadie’s drawer dented out. Oh yeah. There was something strong and pissed off in there trying to get out.
26
Cara
“Um,” I said, backing away from the giant dent that had just been made in one of those fucking drawers. They looked heavily reinforced. Like I didn’t want to meet anything strong enough to break free.
“What’s wrong?” Kirsten asked.
“Nothing,” I said, backing away until I hit the wall. “It just seems to me that it might not be a good idea to be hanging around when whatever’s in there gets out…”
“Whatever’s in there?” Kirsten asked. “That’s my friend Sadie!”
“Oh,” I said, suddenly not sure what the hell was going on here. “In that case…”
I stopped. Because I wasn’t sure what to say to that. So that was her friend. That was fucking great, but it didn’t change the fact that there was something big in there trying to pull a Freddie Mercury and break free.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Probably not,” Kirsten said with a shrug. “She is still a werewolf, after all.”
“Well isn’t that just fucking great?” I said, throwing up my hands. “I don’t see how you can be so nonchalant about all this and…”
I was cut off as a hand slammed through the metal. The hand was seriously freaky, too. Like a girl’s perfectly manicured hand, but with hair growing quickly. Not to mention the more I looked, the more those perfectly manicured nails looked like claws.
The better to rip your lungs out with, my dear.
“Are you going to do something about this?” I asked.
Kirsten looked up at me like I’d lost it.
“What?” she asked. “It’s not like shooting her hand will kill her!”
“But you have fucking silver bullets!” I said.
“And?” Kirsten asked. “It’s not like silver bullets are some magical werewolf killing thing or something.”
“That’s exactly what the fuck silver bullets are supposed to be!” I screeched.
Okay, so maybe I was losing it. Maybe I should be trying to keep it together.
Only I wasn’t like Kirsten. I hadn’t had to deal with this growing up, or whatever the fuck fucked up childhood had led her to being so nonchalant about werewolves chasing her down.
“Wait for it,” Kirsten said, pulling her gun out of her purse and double checking it.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” I asked when there was another bang. The hand was trying to pry the door open, but clearly whatever was in there was having trouble.
Finally there was another bang, and the drawer opened just enough to reveal a pretty girl I thought I recognized. I wasn’t sure if it was from a picture on Carrie’s desk, or if I’d seen her at the party.
“Kirsten?” The girl asked, looking up at her in clear confusion.
She also sounded off. Which was probably a result of the fangs growing from her mouth. We’re talking some real Lon Chaney bullshit, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be long before she went from a Lon Chaney werewolf to the more recent American werewolf variant, complete with a live action Rick Baker effects shot.
There was also something that sounded off about her voice. Like there was a low growl underlying her words.
My heart went out to the girl. She looked terrified. She sounded confused. I tried to imagine what it would feel like waking up in a body locker in a morgue with no way out, then discovering I had the kind of strength usually reserved for somebody who came to our strange yellow sun from the planet Krypton.
I felt bad for her, but I also didn’t want to be in the same room as her. She was a fucking werewolf, after all.
Kirsten moved over to stand above Sadie. She shook her head.
“Do you remember anything about the party last night?” she asked.
The girl, Sadie, frowned. She also shook just a little. As though she was still trying to get out. She let out a low growl, her eyes flashed yellow, and for that moment there was a malevolence that went beyond the confusion.
It was a good reminder that no matter how much she might look like some poor college girl who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, there was also a wolf lurking. Waiting to break out and kill my ass.
Then she was back. She looked confused again. She let out a whine, and it was somewhere between a human whining and a dog whining when it’d been kicked.
“I don’t remember much,” she said. “Just that one minute I was at the party enjoying myself, everybody was freaking out, and…”
She paused. She looked around the room, and her eyes came to rest on me. They went wide and she let out another growl, another snarl. Something that sounded somewhere between human and feral.
“You!” she growled. “You did this to me! You brought those things! They pulled me through the window, and…”
She trailed off. Her body was wracked with sobs. I felt terrible. Not to the point that I wanted to let her devour me or anything, I wasn’t going to go quietly into that good night, or down that werewolf’s gullet, but I still felt a little responsible for what’d happened.
“What’s happening to me, Kirsten?” she asked, staring up at Kirsten as though she had the answers.
“I’m afraid you were bit by a werewolf,” Kirsten said. “The fact that you were bit and not torn to shreds means you probably ran into one who wanted you to be its mate.”
“What the fuck?” Sadie asked. “Where am I, anyway?”
“You’re in the special hidden section of the morgue,” Kirsten said. “The place where they put supernatural creatures they’re not sure are totally dead. You were only mostly dead, and that’s why you’re here now.”
“Mostly dead?” she asked, laughing. “You know I’m not going to be able to take you very seriously if you’re quoting Princess Bride at me!”
“I wish I was quoting Princess Bride at you,” Kirsten said, sounding genuinely sad.
And well she should be. After all, she was watching one of her friends transform into a hideous creature of the night. I imagined that wasn’t the kind of thing that sat well with anybody, even if she did seem like the kind of girl who’d seen some shit.
“Come on Kirsten,” Sadie said. “Is this some old set from the haunted house fundraiser? Because if it is I don’t remember this part, and this isn’t funny.”
She was starting to sound pissed off. Like she was ready to tear someone’s neck out. Hell, if I’d woken up in a strange place like this with no idea what was going on I’d be pissed off to the point of wanting to rip someone’s throat out too.
I wouldn’t have the kind of claws and teeth she was growing, but still.
“You were bit by a werewolf,” Kirsten said. “The one who was trying to capture you probably got distracted and then killed when I pulled it into the house, then the cops came along and loaded you into a body bag and brought you to the freezer here. Which means the curse was slower working through your body, but
it’s still there.”
“This isn’t funny Kirsten,” Sadie said. “I’m serious. You need to let me out of here.”
The drawer started shaking again. Like she was trying to get out. Her hair was sprouting longer and longer. It wouldn’t be long before she broke free.
My breath caught. Was Kirsten really going to let her out? Was she that unwilling to do what had to be done?”
“Don’t worry Sadie,” Kirsten said. “I’m going to help you.”
“You are?” she asked, sounding surprised.
The shaking came to a stop. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t realized I was holding in. I’d been terrified she was going to break free and kill us, and Kirsten was blue screening to the point she’d let her friend do it. Talk about a real Steve Rogers letting Bucky murder whoever the fuck he wanted type situation.
“I have the cure right here,” Kirsten said, hefting her gun. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to feel anything. I promise.”
“Kirsten…”
Sadie sounded worried. Like she didn’t like what was going on. Which probably had a lot to do with Kirsten pointing her gun at the girl’s face. My breath caught. She was actually going to do that to one of her friends. I hadn’t thought she had the guts, but now that she was making it clear she did have the guts there was a part of me that was quietly horrified.
And yet…
I told myself it was a mercy. That if I was in a situation like this, if I found myself bitten by a werewolf, I’d want her to extend the same mercy to me.
There was only one cure for lycanthropy, and it was a cure she was going to administer with extreme prejudice.
“I’m sorry Sadie,” she said, and a tear trickled down her face.
I covered my ears. Mostly to block the sound of Sadie making a noise somewhere between a scream and a howl as she realized what was about to happen, but also because I figured a gun like that going off in an enclosed space would hurt like a motherfucker if I didn’t cover my ears.
Sure enough there was a loud crash and a bang that sounded like the world ending all around me even with my ears covered, followed by silence.
I pulled my hands away from my ears. There was blood splattered all over the floor under Sadie’s drawer. There was also a hole where her face had been. I looked at Kirsten with new eyes. She really did have the guts to do what needed to be done.
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” I said.
“Never give me a reason to get on my bad side,” she said. “Besides. That only happens when supernatural creatures get on my bad side. You’re fine, for now.”
“Noted,” I said.
Kirsten stared at me for a long moment. She seemed to read something in the way I was staring at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I’m only going to do something like this if you get bit,” she said. “I expect you to do the same if I ever get bit. Understand?”
I swallowed and looked between her and her friend. It’d clearly hurt her to do that, I could hear the pain in her voice, but she did it.
“Understood,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I’d have the guts to do what had to be done. I desperately hoped it’d never come to that.
An awkward moment settled between the two of us. I wasn’t sure what to say. It’s not like there was a greeting card for “sorry you just had to kill a friend or an acquaintance because they got bit by a werewolf last night and were slowly transforming into a supernatural monstrosity.”
“So… What do we do now?”
“We find the next one,” Kirsten said. “I just hope I don’t have to…”
She was interrupted by banging on one of the drawers. Only this time there was no gradual denting followed by a horrifying reveal. No, the door flew across the room, slamming into my legs on the way across said room and knocking me on my ass.
Son of a bitch. That hurt! Of course the pain in my legs was nothing compared to the terror that filled me as I heard a now familiar snarl from a werewolf trying to crawl its way out of said drawer.
27
Cara
There was no mistaking that this werewolf was open for business. It was a full on Howling, American Werewolf in Whatever European City, Dog Soldiers werewolf that was about to fuck my shit up.
Like it looked like the finest werewolf ‘80s costume designers could come up with, but on steroids. None of that ‘90s or 2000s crap when people decided CGI was an acceptable alternative to physical props. No, this was the real thing, and it looked even more real because, well, it was real.
“Son of a bitch!” I shouted. “Are you going to do something?”
“Of course,” Kirsten said. “Sorry about your legs, by the way.”
It was at that moment that all the pain from getting hit by that drawer bloomed in my body. I bit back a couple of choice words for Kirsten. I figured she was preoccupied enough, and I wanted her to focus on getting this motherfucker and not on my potty mouth.
“So do something!” I said.
The werewolf was snarling and trying its best to crawl across the room toward me. It hit me with a baleful yellow eyed stare that said it wanted nothing more than to rip me to pieces, and the only thing stopping it from that goal was that it was too big to squeeze out after transforming.
“Excuse me!”
The werewolf turned to Kirsten. Its eyes narrowed and it snarled as it realized a new challenger had entered the room. But it also seemed a little unsure. She was holding a gun, after all.
She walked over to the thing and got down on her knees.
“Um, are you sure that’s the greatest idea getting right in front of the thing like that?”
Then she surprised me by pulling her fist back and socking the thing right in the jaw. Which didn’t seem like the smartest of ideas. After all, we’d already established that werewolf jaws were capable of transmitting the curse or the biological agent or whatever the fuck it was that turned people into werewolves, so getting in biting range didn’t seem like the greatest of ideas.
But she punched it like she didn’t have a concern in the world. The werewolf stared up at her, blinking in surprise, and then she grabbed it by its hair and yanked it out of the drawer.
Which was impressive. It was like watching someone trying to squeeze a werewolf out of a tube of toothpaste. The entrance to that drawer was clearly too small for a massive werewolf to fit through, and yet somehow she managed to pull the thing through with sheer strength.
“Damn,” I said.
The werewolf screamed out in pain as she yanked it out and pressed it up against the drawers. Then she pulled out her sword and held it up against the things neck, letting the blade materialize just close enough that the werewolf’s neck started to sizzle and smoke where it touched.
The wolf stopped the snarling and biting and clawing on a dime and glanced down to where its neck was sizzling.
“Wait, so these assholes can dial back the whole slobbering monster thing when they want to?”
“Of course they can,” she said. “They’re like overgrown toddlers that have been transformed into half man, half wolf creatures. They don’t have much impulse control, but they can control it if a sufficient threat shows up.”
“How about that,” I said.
“So do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” she said.
The wolf let out a whine. It sounded for all the world like one of my grandmother’s dearly departed German Shepherds. The similarity was almost enough to make me feel bad for the thing.
Almost, but I reminded myself that this was a deadly supernatural killing machine and not one of my grandmother’s furry puppers.
“That’s what I thought,” Kirsten said, pressing the sword into its neck nice and slow. The thing started snarling again, but apparently she was strong enough that she could hold the werewolf up against the wall without much trouble even one handed.
A moment later there was a werewolf minus one head. Kirsten let go of the clump o
f hair she’d been holding and the body fell to the ground where it started to do that creepy thing where it transformed back into its human form.
“Holy shit,” I said.
“You keep acting surprised that I’m doing what has to be done,” Kirsten said.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I grew up in a nice quiet life in suburbia. This is totally outside my realm of experience.”
“Don’t feel too bad,” Kirsten said. “It’s the kind of thing that’s outside of most everybody’s realm of experience.”
“I bet,” I said.
“Mostly because anyone who has an encounter with a werewolf typically doesn’t survive the encounter to talk about it. You should consider yourself lucky that you’ve managed to survive so many encounters over the past couple of days!”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’d say lucky describes it,” I said.
I slapped my hands together and rubbed them to generate some heat. After all, it was nice and chilly in here. I could’ve done without the low temperature.
I didn’t care for being in a place where they didn’t even have reinforced drawers powerful enough to keep a werewolf on lockdown. The doors leading into this place seemed like the kind of thing that might be able to keep a werewolf in, but I wouldn’t feel very safe being the technician working this job.
“So what they do about supernatural creatures that can, like, turn into fog or something and get into the ventilation system?” I asked, looking at a couple of vents in the ceiling that were definitely too small for any monsters to fit through.
Kirsten shrugged. “They usually have UV sterilizers on all the ductwork in a place like this. It’s pretty standard in most containment facilities.”
“I thought that was because it killed germs,” I said.
“That’s what they want you to think,” she said. “Actually it probably is pretty good at killing germs, but it turns out it’s just as good at killing vampires trying to escape through the ductwork.”
“Great,” I said. “Now I’m going to insist on having a UV sterilization system in whatever house I end up moving into.”
