by Sarah Noffke
“Who did?” Dr. Roland said, seeming to be humoring him.
“I don’t know,” he said, dropping his hand, feeling the doom start to ache in his being. Maybe this was a mistake. He knew most of what he did was a mistake. Orion shook off the doubt and launched into his rehearsed speech. “These scientists. They kidnapped me. Held me prisoner. Did horrible things to my body and my mind. Now I’m a werewolf. I’m fast with incredible senses. And I have telescopic vision.”
Dr. Roland let out a gentle sigh. “Orion, this is serious.”
“I know. I’m so happy that you see that,” he said, stepping forward, his hands extended to her.
She paced back, shaking her head. “No, Orion, the delusions are back and they have you in a serious state. If you won’t have yourself committed then I want to start your therapy immediately. And you need to be on your medicine beginning tonight,” she said, heading for the receptionist’s desk.
Orion lunged forward, his movements blurring slightly as he did. His good hand gripped onto Veronica’s arm, pressing his long fingernails into her blouse, piercing her skin. “I need you to believe me now!” he said with a low growl in his voice.
Veronica’s eyes widened at Orion in sudden alarm and then darted to something over his shoulder. Her mouth fell open.
From the street Grant stood in full view. If the street where he lurked was occupied then people would have surely run and called the police. No one would regard the beast skulking in the middle of the road with anything less than mind-numbing fear. The other werewolves didn’t compare to Grant. The streetlight shone off his black hair which covered him from his enlarged head to his bulky legs, which resembled those of a wolf. He hadn’t realized how massive his transformation had been. However, Mika obviously wanted the best for him, and had proven that by making him the most incredible werewolf. His fangs and claws weren’t foreign to him but rather a natural extension of himself. And the wolf was now his best friend. He’d always felt lonely but now he had the wolf and they shared so many of the same desires. The wolf told him what to do and it was never wrong. It was fun to do the one thing that had been impossible for him all his life. Indulge in his fantasies.
Grant watched as Orion strode for the front door of the psychiatric practice. He was so much weaker than Grant, unable to change into the werewolf and back at will. And even when he did change, it was so much less than what happened to Grant. This was going to be easy. Whereas before the werewolves had eluded him time and again, now he was going to prowl over to Orion and put him into submission. Then his guards would be called to transport the pathetic animal back to Olento Research where he belonged.
Orion hadn’t meant to startle Veronica. It wasn’t him, it was the wolf. That beast had ahold of Orion’s will, pulling at it, making him react in ways he knew were inappropriate. But now Veronica was gaping at something behind Orion. Had his worst fears come true? Had they found him? He turned, bracing himself, and realized that what he had thought was his worst nightmare was wrong because the most horrible fear now stood before him.
“That Roya girl sure knows her shit,” Rio said.
“She doesn’t know anything. She’s a clairvoyant who is gifted with a cosmic force,” Rox said, smacking her gum.
“Pipe down, you two. This isn’t social hour,” Zephyr said, watching from across the street as Orion stood looking through a window of a supposed psychiatric office. “I’m going in to approach him. Watch my back,” he said. Zephyr took a step out of the shadows and immediately stepped back, his sense of smell catching a distinct odor that he knew wasn’t Orion. But it was another werewolf and his anger suddenly flared but it wasn’t his, it was the wolf inside of him. And it made him growl softly.
“You smell that too?” Rio said at Zephyr’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said, putting his nose up higher and sniffing the air. “It’s foul.”
“I agree,” Rio said.
“Smell what? The trash cans? This isn’t really the time to be a bunch of pansies complaining about the odors of San Fran,” Rox said.
Zephyr shook his head. “No, it’s another werewolf and my instinct tells me it has changed.”
“But that’s impossible. You all aren’t changed and you always mutate at the same time,” Rox said.
“Exactly, which means it’s not one from our pack,” Zephyr said, scanning the street. “We need to get Orion and get the hell out of here.”
“I agree. What’s the plan, boss?” Rio said.
“We’re approaching together. Hate to do this but you’re going to knock him out. We don’t have time to explain things and Orion is the fearful type according to his records. I’ll have your back, Rio. Rox, you have my back and look out for anything approaching,” Zephyr said, his voice full of a confident authority.
“Who the hell has my back?” Rox said with a sideways grin.
“God,” Zephyr said.
“Oh great, I’m screwed,” she said.
“You wish,” Zephyr said, grabbing Rio’s bicep. “Let’s go for it.” He stepped out of the shadows a second time, his head darting around as he did. And a second time Zephyr sunk back to the alleyway, Rio doing the same in unison.
“Holy mother of Jesus,” Rio said, his eyes wide just as a giant werewolf covered in black hair stalked down the street, not stopping until standing tall across from the psychiatric practice.
Orion’s heart suddenly jerked into overdrive, beating so fast he was certain it would burst. He twisted around, throwing his body in front of Veronica, blocking the grotesque beast from her. It was massive and hardly resembled a man anymore, its fangs and claws so much bigger than his own. And its muscles, he could tell even covered in fur they were massive, so much so it wore no clothes.
“Wh-wh-what is that?” Veronica said with a hiss. She hadn’t screamed like most women would have. She could tolerate what Orion was, he thought.
“It’s a werewolf. I told you I wasn’t lying,” he said, backing up as she did the same, shaking like he did. The werewolf stood tall, its head nearly touching the doorframe, and then it fell to its front legs, teeth bared at Orion.
“Go away. Leave us alone,” Orion said, realizing he sounded weak, his voice vibrating.
“Come with me,” the beast said, its mouth hardly parting for the words. It sounded like the demons in Orion’s dreams, the ones that had haunted him since a boy.
“What are you going to do to him?” Veronica said at Orion’s back.
“Shhh,” Orion said over his shoulder to her. “You’ve got to get away. Run to the back.” He pointed with his eyes to the hallway where her office was and hopefully a back exit.
“No, I’m not leaving you and letting that monster take you. You’re really a werewolf,” she said and he wished he could enjoy this victory but the beast was already approaching. Crawling slowly for them, seeming to enjoy this part of the hunt.
“Run, Veronica,” Orion said and stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he said to the animal, his insides feeling like they might crack into pieces from the fear. It had never been so overwhelming, stealing his breath to the point that he was gasping for breath. He went to take another step and felt fingers grip his wrist, tugging him back.
“No, Orion. Let’s run,” Veronica said.
He turned to look at her, relieved she wanted to help him. Torn on what to do, he sucked in a breath. Should he risk escaping or let the beast take him? The quick look at her told him instantly and he turned at once, pushing her in front of him. “Let’s go!” he yelled, racing in the opposite direction behind Veronica.
“We’ve got to get in there,” Zephyr said. “That werewolf is going to take Orion.”
“Maybe we can go in through the back,” Rio said.
“No, we need to take it out from behind,” Zephyr said, striding forward, watching the werewolf enter the office and stand in the doorway. Rio was at his side when a sharp slap to the back of his head made him turn around.
“You freaking idiot
. You two can’t take down that abomination,” Rox said.
Zephyr looked at her with astonished offense. “We are werewolves, and there’s two of us and one of it.”
“And it’s in werewolf form,” Rox said, her eyes on the big picture window that showed the lobby where Orion was blocking a woman with his body. “You two aren’t changed, which means no claws or fangs, and I’m going to guess it’s a whole lot faster than you.”
“We can’t just leave Orion to fend for himself,” Zephyr said. Rox was right though. That werewolf would destroy Rio and him in no time. “Okay, new plan. We will distract him and you, Rox, go in and attack him from behind. His fangs and claws have no effect on you.”
She nodded. “Good plan. Once I’ve got him down then you two step in and help,” she said. Rox darted for the entrance of the psychiatrist’s office just as Orion turned, running down a hallway. Zephyr shot forward, employing his X-ray vision as he did so he didn’t miss anything. The werewolf kneeled down low and then sprung into the air like on a trampoline. He flew several yards, slamming down cleanly on Orion’s back. Instantly its giant fangs sliced into his neck, and then it stood up, carrying Orion with its teeth, its clawed hands around his body but only for ease since it seemed to have a sturdy grasp of Orion like a wolf does a rabbit. The werewolf shook his head, shaking Orion as it did, filling the air with the sound of cracking. Orion’s body instantly fell slack as his neck broke from the assault.
Zephyr discarded the plan, sprinting for the door behind Rox, Rio at his heels. As it often happens in battle, plans are altered in the moment, instinct leading the way. Rox had her knife out and charged for the beast. She might have stood a chance of getting in a few hits on it. Together they may take it out.
The animal turned at the sound of their approach, its black soulless eyes glowing back at them. Then it spun in the opposite direction, racing for the exit at the back, Orion in tow. The woman slid up against the wall, nearly being knocked over by the werewolf as it passed. And then it was gone and only a puddle of Orion’s blood on the floor remained.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“After the change, the men describe the wolf as being confused and not having a memory of the time when not in werewolf state. They appear to be able to communicate with the men.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
Loneliness was a ghost that followed Hugo Stetson, haunting his waking moments. When he slept he felt it like a poltergeist, threatening to end him. He always traveled in his dreams to wherever he thought about most. He always arrived exactly in the place he wanted to be and that almost made it worse. It was worse to look at his friends’ faces and talk to them only to have them ignore him. It was worse to look at Markie’s face and tell him that he loved him only to watch the guy look off to the sunset. It felt so real, like in that moment the guy Hugo loved was missing him, knowing he was lost and unable to return. But that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be seeing Markie as he was but rather as he hoped he’d be in that moment, longing for Hugo.
The animals always provided some comfort, their voices in Hugo’s head reminding him he wasn’t alone. But they weren’t enough. They couldn’t hold him, like Markie did. More importantly he couldn’t relate to them. He told his dog, Thomas, about the werewolf, about the change, confided his greatest miseries to the animal, but to his disappointment the dog didn’t seem to find much problem with Hugo’s situation.
So you turn into me every week. What’s the big deal? Thomas had said in Hugo’s mind. The sweet dog almost looked offended, like Hugo was complaining over nothing. And even as he tried to explain that it wasn’t normal and that he was a stranger canine capable of really hurting others, the dog still didn’t think it was a horrible fate.
Just relax and enjoy the life you’ve been given, the dog had said to Hugo. Just stop obsessing. I see how you fret all day. You’d be better off lounging than pacing. Or farming rather than reinforcing the doors. I don’t like being away from you when the change you talk about happens.
Thomas always spoke like this. He was Hugo’s best friend and yet understood none of his actual troubles. If men actually knew that their supposed best friends thought their real troubles were nothing, would they still be so close? For Hugo, Thomas was the best companion he had, even lacking empathy, so he was almost satisfied with the animal’s attention. Except at night, the sound of Markie’s voice in his head woke him up. He could hear his lover, reach out and almost touch him, but he was a world away. And he couldn’t go and find Markie because of the potential of hurting him. Markie would believe him. He’d know Hugo wasn’t lying. He’d make him stay with him. Then Hugo would change and maim the man he loved. There was no option for Hugo but to remain alone.
On those nights faceted with memories of Markie, Hugo always awoke with a brutal force. One that made him think he’d crawl outside himself if he didn’t get away, away from Thomas and his passive insensitivities. Away from the bed that sought to entomb him in a prison of loneliness.
Hugo ran out of his cabin, not shutting the door behind him, not caring if the dog ran after him. On a night like this there was no danger, except for Hugo who thought he might go crazy from the fear that forever he’d live like this. Live in a world of one, with only the animals who didn’t understand and failed to comfort him. Still in his thermal socks, he ran until he was at the top of the hill, the one with a single tree, and a view of the surrounding pastures. There, in man form, he let out a sound that was the most natural one for him, and also felt primitive and strange at the same time.
To the night, Hugo sang a song of his loneliness one howl at a time. Each one more piercing than the last. The night seemed to understand his plight. The surrounding distance knew of Hugo’s isolation. The open sky reverberated his calls for companionship with echoes of silence. And it only made Hugo feel marginally better to receive this consolation but it was enough, enough to bring him back to the cabin, where he’d continue his sentence for yet another day.
Chapter Thirty
“The men have reported experiencing an impulse toward gratifying behaviors. It is believed that in some of the men, this impulse is uncontrollable, at least at times.”
- Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File
Pressing his long fingers into his closed eyes, Mika breathed in deep, counting back from ten. When he opened his eyes the world was full of dark spots. He didn’t bring his eyes over to Grant until his vision returned. “You were supposed to bring Orion in alive,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.
“I realize that, sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill him. The werewolf just got excited and took control. Honestly, I didn’t know it was going to break his neck,” Grant said, his usual face full of color, a flush spreading its way down his neck.
“You picked him up with your mouth,” Mika said, trying to control the rage wanting to race out of him. “What did you think would come out of that?”
“It happened so fast. And once I got my teeth in him then I was gone and the wolf took over,” he said.
“Damn it, this is unacceptable!” Mika roared so loudly that the birds in the lab cage scattered, most having trouble with it due to whatever mutation had been done to them. “You have to be able to control the wolf.”
“I know. I can do it. Now that I’ve had experience with it, I’ll do better next time,” Grant said.
Mika threw a finger in the opposite direction, where Orion’s broken body lay on an examine table. “You returned a werewolf to me, but he’s dead. Do you know how much went into creating him and you just snapped his neck because you got excited?”
“I understand, sir,” Grant said, his hands straight by his side.
Mika covered his brow with his hand. Now he’d have to tell the investors that they’d permanently lost a werewolf. Granted that Orion was created for reconnaissance missions due to his innate nature but still, Project Canis Lupus was not at all going to plan. He’d stalled giving the investors for an
y information. Soon he’d have to sell a share of Parantaa just to buy them out of the project. He’d created the werewolves for mostly his own amusement anyway, but to have a team of werewolves with specific abilities and roles was the ultimate goal. They could be employed to do anything separately or as a pack.
“I’m going to assign you a new case but you better, and I mean it, you better not mess it up,” Mika said.
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir,” Grant said.
“Some farmers in a small town in Oklahoma have reported hearing a wolf even though they were hunted to extinction in that area fifty years ago. The town is close to where Hugo Stetson lived. Furthermore, when I sent Morgan out there to spy he found a deer carcass that had been mauled. The terrain in this area is considerably dense and overgrown but I’ve taken aerial footage and there’s a small cabin on the edge of Hugo’s family’s property,” Mika said.
“My team, we missed this when investigating,” Grant said, his face suddenly pale.
“Indeed, you did. Your list of incompetence keeps growing. But you can make up for it now if you go out there and capture him. Hugo is considered a strong man but in werewolf form you should be able to overpower him. Knock him out and bring him in. Got it?” Mika said.
“Yes sir. You can count on me,” Grant said, saluting.
Chapter Thirty-One
“The men are not able to fully communicate and therefore supply necessary answers for the experiment or upcoming phases. It’s been decided their sedatives will be cut back.”
- Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File
He didn’t look like himself, Adelaide thought as she watched Connor sleep in his bed in the infirmary. However, that was an absurd thought. How did she suppose she knew what Connor looked like? She hardly knew him. She’d seen him when he was malnourished and also in werewolf form. Now he was fresh from a bloody coma. She knew the faces of Connor but that didn’t mean she really knew him.
