The Awakening Box Set

by Michael Timmins

  Stephanie was waving for him to get out of the car. Joining her and her dad, he could feel her father’s eyes on him, weighing him. Jason met the man’s stare and her father’s features softened. He knew he had lost the right to judge any man Stephanie brought home a long time ago.

  Jason stuck out his hand.

  “It’s splendid to meet you sir, I’m Jason.”

  “So, Stephanie tells me.” Taking Jason’s hand and shaking it firmly. “You can call me Jack. I haven’t had anyone call me sir in a long time, and I’ve gotten used to being just Jack.”

  “All right, Jack. Well, I’m glad to meet you,” Jason told him, smiling down at Stephanie.

  “Likewise, though I didn’t know there was a possibility I would meet you.”

  “Yeah, I apologize, Dad.” Stephanie stepped in. “I should have called. But I didn’t know what to say. And, I don’t know how to ask you this, so I’m just gonna ask.” Stephanie was uncomfortable. “Can we stay here for a while?”

  “Can I ask why?” Holding up his palms apologetically, he continued. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to stay, or you can’t. I’m just saying I haven’t seen you in two years, my fault, but there it is. Two years and nothing, then you show up with some guy and ask to stay for a while.” He eyeballed each of them in turn. “You had to know I would want to know why.”

  Stephanie stared at her dad for a long while before answering.

  “Can we go inside? This is going to take a bit to explain.”

  Jack stared at them both for a long time when Stephanie finished her story. Stephanie’s father was thoughtful before he broke the silence. “I wonder if you got this from your mother?”

  Stephanie was taken aback at this possibility.

  “Why would you think that?” Stephanie peered at her father quizzically.

  “Well, I always found it odd your mother never got hurt. Perfect health and she always mended right quick.” Shaking his head and chuckling softly as if something funny had occurred to him.

  “I remember one time hearing her cry out from the kitchen. I ran in there as fast as I could, and your mother was standing over the sink with a towel wrapped around her finger. There was so much blood, the towel was soaked through and I had only been a moment reaching her.” Clicking his tongue, he peered at them, winking one eye.

  “I thought for sure she had cut the tip of her finger off. It had to be the only way there would be that much blood. Waving me off, said she just cut herself a little, nothing a Band-Aid and some time wouldn’t cure.”

  “I remember insisting we go to the hospital and get some stitches,” he continued. “It was the first time I ever remember your mother getting angry. Yelling at me for suggesting it and accusing me of thinking she was dainty flower who couldn’t handle a little cut.”

  Shaking his head, again. “I was so surprised at her attitude, I stammered an apology and left her there.”

  “Thinking back on it now, I wonder if it was what she intended. To upset me so much I wouldn’t question what I thought I had seen. I assumed I was wrong, though I had seen someone cut the tip of their finger off before and seen how much blood was lost. You can't compare it to a cut which doesn't require stitches." He was lost in thought for a while, remembering the past.

  "She wore a bandage for a week or so and when she took it off there wasn't a scar."

  Shaking his head, yet again. "Apart from that, there is nothing else similar. I'm sure I would have noticed any...umm...changes, if they occurred. It seems logical she also had this...err...thing you have as well. But for some reason yours is a …" Again, he searched for the right words. "An advanced form, or whatever."

  Stephanie nodded. It was nice to hear stories of her mom. She remembered her of course, the way she looked and special moments they had shared together or as a family, but there hadn't been many of those. Then she died.

  Afterward, her father never spoke of her, until tonight. It was weird to hear her father speak of her mother now and show some emotion in remembering her. She wasn't sure she understood the transformation her father had gone through, but it was nice.

  Perhaps once Caroline left, and he was all alone, he had time to think about what he was like these years, to sincerely face his demons and cast them out.

  "Well, Dad, if we could stay here for a while, till we figure out exactly what is happening to me… us." She smiled sheepishly as Jason, who smiled back re-assuredly.

  "We can stay out in the loft above the barn so we’re out of your way," she finished, but Jack was shaking his head.

  "Nonsense. No daughter of mine is going to sleep out in the barn like some kinda wayward drifter. You can stay in your old room, and Jason can stay in Caroline's room." He glared at Jason; whose smile slipped a little.

  "Dad!" Stephanie exclaimed. "We are both adults; if we wish to stay in the same room, we can do so."

  "Of course, you can Stephanie, just not in my house." Raising a hand to forestall her comment. "I'm not naive enough to believe you haven't stayed in the same room, but please, respect an old man's sense of propriety."

  Thinking to argue, she decided it wasn't worth it. Jason and she had spent the night together before, but not the way her dad undoubtedly thought. It wasn't too difficult for her to agree to the stipulation, though something still bothered her.

  "The thing is, Dad, I don't know if I am going to change again, or when, and your life could be at risk."

  He gave her a gaze meaning he understood the risks, but he still wanted her to stay in the house.

  "Okay, Dad, okay." She dodged his chastisement. "We'll stay in the house and in separate rooms, but promise me this, any sign, any indication something bad is about to happen, you run from here as fast and as far as you can go. Okay?"

  He seemed reluctant to agree but did.

  "From what Jason has guessed, it seems logical there will not be another change until a full moon, but we are not certain. You will also be gone that night as well, Dad. No arguments. There is too much risk. I won't have me be the cause of your death."

  "It's fine, I will stay at the inn in town. There are some people I have lost touch with for many years, I might wish to call on them as well."

  They stared at each other across the table.

  "It's good to have you back, Stephanie."

  "You, too, Dad."

  Four nights passed without incident. At long last, it was the night of the full moon. Jason and Stephanie sat on the grass by the small lake located on the property. The cool grass was a comforting blanket, lying softly beneath them. Her father had left hours ago, and they decided to move outside to minimize any damage done to property. Wearing loose fitting clothes, as Stephanie suggested after her experience with her last transformation, they sat and watched the sky. The full moon was slowly climbing up into the sky on a relatively cloudless night, its luminesce bathing the night in a surreal glow.

  Despite the bright shine of the moon, several stars were visible the further away you gazed from the moon, slowly fading into nothingness if your vision strayed too close to the moon.

  There was a bite to the air, Stephanie was bundled up and pressed against Jason whose arm was wrapped around her shoulder, comforting and giving warmth. Crickets and frogs sang a surprisingly calming, but divergent melody. The lake’s surface was flat and still, broken only by an occasional fish trying to nab a low flying insect or a surfacing minnow in its hopes to escape being eaten.

  To Stephanie, these sounds were all calming, and she felt sleepy. There was an initial scare when the moon first crested the horizon. They clung to each other expecting to go under their metamorphosis right then. Nothing happened.

  They waited till the moon cleared the horizon to begin its journey across the sky, a slow march almost imperceptible in its movement. Again, nothing happened. They realized it either wasn't going to happen, or it would happen when the moon reached its zenith, around midnight. It was a waiting game. They talked of many things, mundane things, as if
not wanting to discuss the most serious matter for fear it might trigger the shift.

  Feeling obligated after she had divulged hers, Jason told her of his childhood. It was a stark contrast from hers. He was the third child of four — three boys and one girl. His sister, Telly, was a year and half older than him, and always been protective. First from their older brother, Jim, who loved to try and torture his younger siblings. Later, it was from the older boys at school who picked on him. His sister had meant well, but her standing up for him to the older boys only made his abuse much harder.

  He never told her because she always was so happy to stop them, and he managed well enough with the harassment. His mother and father were successful lawyers with his mother a senior partner at a law firm. His father was a civil trial lawyer. When they started their family, his father decided to do contract writing so he could stay at home and raise the kids.

  His father was a caring and patient man who routinely used logic and reasoning to teach his kids how to do the right things. Never raising his voice or punishing them overmuch, he simply explained what they did wrong, asked them questions to get them to think through why it was wrong. After, the children seldom did the same thing wrong twice— unless they wanted to cause trouble, just to cause trouble. When they did, he laughed it off and made light of it, and so it never was worth it.

  His mother was wonderful, except she worked too much, often getting home at seven or eight at night, an hour or two before they went to bed. She didn't get to spend as much time with them. The time she did spend was terrific.

  When Jason realized Stephanie appeared to be upset, he stopped talking.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Stephanie. I shouldn't be going on and on about my happy childhood. I know yours wasn't always the best, by far. I don't want you to think I'm trying to rub it in or anything."

  "It's okay," she said. "I'm not upset at you telling me about your life. I'm upset because of what I did to you. You may have difficulties with your family from now on."

  “Nonsense. Why would I have difficulty with my family?”

  “Jason, sometimes you are such a dope,” she chastised him. “You turn into a monster, and you may or may not be able to control it. Plus, you have no idea when it might happen. What are you going to do? Drop by for a visit, and maul your family?”

  He had the good sense to blush.

  “You’re right,” he told her. “I keep forgetting all of this. Perhaps, because, as of yet, it hasn’t happened to me.”

  “Well, you will know after tonight,” she reminded him.

  “Possibly.” Jason glanced out over the pond.

  She could do nothing but nod. Here they were sitting together, waiting for the impossible to happen. Not impossible it would happen tonight, just the impossibility of the whole idea. What happened to her, and what may happen to them tonight was, well, impossible.

  Hours passed in silence, and despite her feeble attempts at staying awake, Stephanie fell asleep against Jason. Unsure of what woke her, she awoke, bleary-eyed as she glanced about her. Jason had also fallen asleep and had slid away, lying angled off from her. Slowly, she stood and brushed her hands down the sides of her legs to brush away any dirt or grass which may have hitched a ride. Again, she glanced about. It was quite bright given the moon’s fullness; she was able to see as if it was day.

  Crickets sang softly off to her right; they were the only sound audible around her. She forgot how quiet farmlands can be in the dead of night. No car noises, no sounds of people partying or conversing loudly over their cellphones, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and people were sleeping.

  Suddenly, she remembered why they were out there and gazed up at the location of the moon. It hung ominously overhead, as if waiting for the cue to drop right on top of her. It had to be close to midnight and she fished into her pocket for her cellphone. Turning it on, it read 11:59. It changed to midnight as she watched.

  Jason cried out. She whirled around. Turned from her, his back was arched in pain, hands clenched so strongly they stood out bright white in the moon’s glow.

  She only had seconds to take this in before the moon finally made its plummet to the earth to land on top of her. Crumpling into a heap, she collapsed as pain wracked her entire body. Whimpering softly, she clenched her teeth. Vaguely, she remembered what happened the last time, when she had lost consciousness. This time she avowed she would remain conscious. She needed to, because Jason needed her.

  Snapping bones, he cried out as the transformation began. Needing to help him, she cleared her mind. Pushing the pain back, she managed to stand. Focusing hard on not transforming, to stay as she was. Focus was a goal she raced hard for but seemed forever further away.

  Picturing herself as she was, she focused on the image as a life vest to keep from sinking into the pain. It was then she felt something lock within her brain and the pain ceased instantaneously. No longer was she transforming. It was amazing. She had stopped the change from happening. She only had a moment to marvel at this fact before she saw the thing which had been Jason, rise before her.

  Though she never considered foxes as intimidating, an over seven-foot-tall, muscular one with gleaming sharp teeth behind peeled back lips was a little disconcerting. A low growl emanated from the thing and Stephanie reminded herself it was Jason, and not some monster. Hopefully, he would remember as well. The thing took a step toward her.

  “Jason? Can you hear me? It’s Stephanie. Please, Jason, listen to me.”

  The thing which was Jason slowed his approach and cocked his head in a canine like way.

  “That’s right, Jason. It’s me. It’s going to be alright. I think I know how to get you back.”

  Watching, she saw him begin to examine himself. Holding up his muscular arm in front of him, long claws extended from the tips of his fingers. Squeezing his fist closed, he flexed his forearm, making his muscles bulge beneath the rusty red colored hair.

  Black eyes returned their gaze to her. They were deep and piercing. Taking a step back, despite herself, he was an imposing vision. The thing stared at her for a moment, nodded its head, which she took as Jason understanding her.

  “Picture yourself as you appear in human form. Picture it in your mind and focus.”

  The thing continued to stare at her for a moment, and she thought it got a faraway look in its eyes. Moments later she heard the first snap of bone and the creature snarled. The transformation went rapidly this time. It was over in seconds and Jason stood before her once again, his baggy clothing a little worse for wear.

  Glancing down at his hands first, he gawked back up at her in astonishment.

  “How did you know how to do that?”

  “I somehow figured it out. When you started to change, I felt so compelled to help you. I needed something to focus on, to ignore the pain so I wouldn’t lose consciousness like last time. So, I formed a picture of myself as I normally am and focused on the image to block out the pain. As soon as I did, I felt something… I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Lock?”

  Stephanie regarded Jason and smiled.

  “Yeah. Lock. You felt it too?” He nodded. “When that happened, I ceased changing. I guessed if it could stop me from changing, perhaps it could also change you back.” She shrugged. “It worked.” Smiling again at him, he smiled back.

  “This is amazing Stephanie. It was amazing. I mean, it hurt like hell, but after the transformation — I have never felt so alive!”

  “I know the feeling, Jason. It was how I felt, too.”

  “I want to change, again. I could sense things better. The colors were brighter, the sounds louder, and more distinct. I could smell things!”

  Jason couldn’t control his excitement. Feeling less enthused by the idea, she felt more alive in that form, but at what cost?

  “I wonder,” Jason interrupted her thoughts. “I wonder if what we did to stay or change into human form would work in the opposite?”

  “What? You mea
n like form an image of what we appear like in the other form?”

  “Exactly!” Jason said, his eyes wide and a huge smile on his face.

  “Well, we could try, I guess. Not sure I want to go through the pain again.”

  “There was something I noticed about the pain,” Jason told her. “It lessened after I pictured the image of myself. So perhaps, the change will be less painful when we do it this way? And quicker?”

  Stephanie shrugged.

  “Okay, I’ll try first,” Jason volunteered.

  “I don’t know, Jason. It doesn’t seem like a safe idea.”

  Cocking his head, he gave her a small smile.

  “Look. We were searching for a way to control this, right? If forming an image of ourselves in one form or the other works, isn’t it what we wanted?”

  Not waiting for her response, he stepped back from her and closed his eyes. She waited, because there was nothing else for her to do. She didn’t have to wait long. Almost instantly Jason gasped as pain wracked his body.

  Bones began to break. But, not like before. They broke systematically before, as if dealing with one part of the body at a time. This time they broke all at once, yet less audible, a muffled cracking. Red fur sprung from out of the pores in his skin to coat him almost instantly and wholly. It was painful to watch, especially when his face changed. It was as if someone shattered his skull and put it back together in an instant, only this time in a more canine shape.

  The change was over in seconds. It was obvious what Jason had surmised was correct. The change was quicker. She wondered if it was less painful. It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.

  In his new form, he towered over her. Again, he marveled at his new form, his gaze roaming his newly shaped body. After a moment, he turned to her.

  “Did it hurt less?” she questioned him.

  “Yes.” Jason answered her, but it didn’t sound like Jason. It was his voice, but deeper, rougher. It would take some getting used to.