The Bestiarum Vocabulum (TRES LIBRORUM PROHIBITUM)

by Dean M. Drinkel

  It’s also a lot more intense and nearly overwhelming. Thus my slow descent into madness. It was bad enough that I had to deal with the disgusting things the wolf did when he took control but the arguments made it all the worse. After just dealing with the incident of my first verbal, in my own head, argument the re-emergence of the wolf and the return to those nonverbal arguments was like being hit with electricity, like I’d stuck a screwdriver into an electrical socket.

  It was also why I nearly fainted when I understood the wolf meant to kill the witch.

  Unknown to me, the only reason the wolf had been so complacent in our dealings with the new woman in our lives was because she gave him a free reign that I never had.

  The peace I thought was felt between the two of us was actually only felt by myself. While I felt tranquility and serenity the wolf felt only freedom. Our time since meeting the mysterious woman had given the wolf the ability to do as it pleased while I lolled around in a false sense of security. It enjoyed having me stuck in a near drunken state at all times. The enchantment that meant quiet to me meant something entirely different to the beast.

  I don’t know if that was the witch’s intention or not. I still can’t say if she meant to just let the wolf free while making me feel like a comforted child or if that was just a side effect of her desire to see chaos and death on a massive scale. As I sit here picking her bones out of my teeth I have to think that it was always her goal, only that she didn’t think it would go as far as it did.

  The wolf had never previously cared because of the aforementioned free reign, the arrangement worked for it. I got to feel like everything was okay, the woman got to have her fun, and the wolf was free to kill on a scale it hadn’t been previously able to do with me fighting it at all times. Things now had seemed to change. I was pushing the wolf out while I argued with myself and there was a coming chance that I might reassert some form of dominance and again go back to trying to end my miserable life. It was true that I had never managed to do it myself but with the addition of the witch there was a chance I might be able to convince her to do it for me. This was something the wolf wasn’t willing to chance.

  In an instant I saw every brutal thing the wolf wanted to do to her. It wanted to rip out her throat, to dig its claws into the woman’s insides and slowly pull her intestines out, it wanted to watch as her insides spilled out onto the floor around it. There wasn’t even a thought of devouring her, all it wanted to do was mutilate her body until nothing could be even said to recognize the human form. Even knowing that the witch was bad for me, that she was using me for her own sick and twisted purposes, I still couldn’t handle the thought of losing her, of losing the peace she had given me. In that instant of thought I knew what had to be done, for the witch to live the wolf must die. The part of me that argued for my own death won out and I determined to have my own existence ended.

  It was at that moment that the witch chose the worst possible moment to enter. I’m sure it was a sight for her, me, with my hands squeezed over my ears in an attempt to block out voices that were only present in my own head, screaming at something that wasn’t even there. Her only response to seeing my incredibly pathetic form was to smile. She wasn’t the least bit concerned about what I might be going through, not that I really expected her to, but I did expect some kind of response other than a smile. Maybe some kind of worry about my state of mind, if at least because she’d be losing her pet.

  I let the anger simmering inside of me on her response dwindle down before trying to explain to her that if she at all valued her life she needed to kill me, she needed to end my life before hers was ended instead. I knew she had an old revolver on the mantle and playing with it one day I’d noticed that it was loaded. Most myths about my kind are false, moons don’t affect us, a bite by another wolf doesn’t cause that person to change, and it doesn’t take a silver bullet to kill us, a regular one will do just fine. I tried telling her that she could end my life and save hers with just the pull of the trigger, that I didn’t want her to die, that I loved her too much to see her pass beyond this world. She just laughed, she laughed in a way you or I might laugh at a comedic movie.

  That was the point at which something inside of me snapped, something held back first by my own self-loathing and then by my supposed love of the witch. The barrier that had always separated the wolf from myself was unexpectedly broken down. There was suddenly no more me, no more wolf, only us. Two halves of a greater whole had become one being that while remaining separate were still the same. I had always been terrified of those two separate entities becoming one but now the feeling both thrilled and excited me.

  I began to turn right then and there, becoming something I had never been able to truly become before. I’d always blacked out when the wolf started taking over but now I was fully aware and though the pain was excruciating, I smiled. My body was ripping itself apart and it was pure ecstasy. The thrill of letting go, of letting the wolf have control instead of fighting against it was greater than anything I had ever felt in my life. I watched as my arms and legs elongated and grew fur, I could feel my jaw break apart to reform itself, could taste the blood pouring from my mouth as sharp incisors pushed out my human teeth and sent them falling to the floor. In the midst of all this terrible agony I was happier than I could remember. In letting go I had given the wolf reason to let me in on his side of the world and it was glorious.

  The witch’s reaction made the change the much more satisfying, for the first time I’d known her she was afraid. I could see the fear in her eyes with my changing vision and smell it oozing off her with senses that had been kicked into overdrive. Her captor had broken free of its cage and was something she couldn’t control, something fierce and deadly, a beast ready to kill. As she turned to run out of the room the change completed and I was now the wolf. She didn’t even make it to the door.

  I propelled my body forward, feeling for the first time the power that coursed through me and pounced, knocking her to the floor. She let out a scream as she went down, the first I’d heard from her. My nails dug into her flesh making her blood pour out onto the ground. I took my time as I let the newly grown claws slowly sink into her flesh; I felt them hit bone as they went deeper. She begged me to stop, begged me to let her go. She told me I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t realize what was going on. She cried that I had to control the wolf, I had to do it for her, for our love. I don’t think she even realized that there no longer was a wolf, just me and if I could have made my snout form a smile, I think I would have.

  While her pleas fell on deaf ears the sound of her voice was still annoying my sensitive hearing. Let her cry if she wanted but the screaming would stop now. I grabbed the back of her head (surprisingly well I might add considering I had to use a wolf’s paws) and slammed her face into the wood flooring. The sound of teeth being broken and bones in her face shattering where simply an added bonus.

  I still wasn’t entirely satisfied that alone would shut her up, choosing to instead flip her body over and disfigure her mouth, I just wanted her to shut her up. Her eyes were the thing that drove me on though. The eyes of a monster that had sucked me in were almost too much to bear. I had been mesmerized by those eyes for too fucking long and the thought of them made me furious. Seeing those eyes looking back at me made me want to visit every horrible thing I had ever read about the Inquisition upon her. It drove me so fucking crazy that I let my mouth do most of the work, tearing off her jaw in the process.

  Figuring that losing most of your lower jaw would be a near fatal move I knew I had to work fast. After all, what would be the point of this if she didn’t at least feel most of my mutilation? As she spewed blood all over the floor thanks to the hole that used to be her mouth, my claws raked down her body time and again. Her front was flayed and near unrecognizable but that wasn’t the intention, I just needed her skin removed for further work. I tore into muscle and broke through bone to get at the most special of organs, her heart.


  The fur of my paws had become a disgusting mess, pieces of what used to be her chest clung to my claws. I watched as she labored to breathe, somehow still alive despite the damage I’d done. I could hope she was still conscious though I highly doubted it. Every time she took a breath a jet of more of her blood would flow out, blood I would eagerly lap up. This drove me into a wild frenzy and I tore through her with a renewed vigor, searching for the prize I so desperately sought, a prize I finally found.

  In my passionate state I had sadly torn part of it away already but luckily there was still enough left for me to recognize the most important muscle in the human body. Instead of ripping it apart in wolf form my body began to change once again, the wolf gave me control of myself so that I could see what it was like. I shed my fur and my claws and gained my human persona once again. You would think this might stop me but it had the opposite effect, my humanity drove me further, plunging me deeper into the darkness the wolf knew so well. I’m almost certain this was intention the whole time, to let me know how good it felt to kill another, to feel their flesh against your body. As the witch lay dying a man, not a wolf, stood above her though the wolf still had a presence in my human form.

  I wrapped my hand around it and pulled, leaving a giant hole in the middle of her chest and with that I heard one last gasp before the witch finally went silent. I held her heart in my hand, letting the sticky mess run off of it before consuming the entire thing, savoring the taste of it slid down my throat. The wolf had done this many times but I had never, it was a better high than any drug on this planet. With the deed now done, I got up on two legs instead of four as the beast was as much a part of me as I was of it. I surveyed what I had done and felt content to be what I was. I walked into the corner of the room, her body still cooling by the door, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  I don’t know how long I slept for, it could have been days, all I know is I wish I hadn’t woken up. The peaceful merger between the wolf and myself that had so thrilled me before was gone. No longer did I feel content and happy to have become one with the foul thing inside of me. Instead I felt sick. Again I wanted to die, to end the twisted life that I lived but now it was much more intense. Memories of how much I had enjoyed being the wolf flashed in my head, tormenting me as they reminded me of what I had done and how gratifying it had been, how much I had loved doing it. I looked at the witch’s mutilated corpse and shriveled as far back as the wall would allow me. I begged for death, for mercy from something above and then I remembered how much whatever was above hated and despised me. He must have despised most of humanity though, otherwise I can’t imagine he’d let a thing like me exist.

  I wish I could tell you that I knew I’d walk away from this place, find a gun, and put a bullet in my head, but I won’t. I wish I could tell you I’d go back to walking the streets of Sauget in the hopes of finding someone to end my life for me, but I won’t. Hell, I wish I could just tell you I was going to find a deep, dark forest and never come back, but I won’t. Even now, as I think about what I did to the witch I can hear the wolf howling at me, begging for me to do it again. He knows he’s given me a thrill now and want more. Turns out it wasn’t just enjoyable for me, it was enjoyable for him that I enjoyed it.

  Sad thing is, I kind of want to feel it again too.

  X Is for XeXeu

  Final Song

  Sandra Norval

  I remember feeling safe once. My mother would tuck me in at night, with a story and a kiss. She would tell me tales of the XeXeu, the Thunderbird. She painted a dream of giant red wings, fire dripping from the tips and lighting up the sky. She conjured up the sound of its cry, peals of thunder that rattled entire valleys, and shook entire ranges of mountains.

  She told of how the sun and the bird worked together, providing warmth and rain for the forests to grow. I heard of water, plants and creatures living in beautiful, peaceful harmony.

  I slept, dreaming of the sound of birdsong, creatures calling in the night, rain falling on leaves. I slept in bliss, believing that the world was in harmony and the rainforest was where I was destined to be.

  Tonight I dreamt of mother. I dreamt of her arms around me, keeping me safe.

  Tonight, I couldn’t be less so.

  ***

  Five years ago

  It’s not cool to stalk your professor. That’s the kind of thing that gets you booted off campus and thrown off your course. I just knew I had to do it though, time was of the essence. I mean, who’s got years to prove themselves worthy in the world of academia. Seriously, why bother with a PhD when I just knew I was right? Hardly my fault they didn’t.

  So there we were, skinny Professor Polomu and me, in one of the cosy lecture theatres – the class was never big enough to fill the cavernous ones – we stood there, facing each other off.

  I had the upper hand, standing between him and the door. If he lurched for it I’d probably have knocked him to the floor just by breathing on him.

  Crap. Sounds like I don’t respect every word this man’s uttered. Actually, to me, he might as well be God. He cares about the Amazon, like, really cares. He has to. He was born there, his family still live there, he goes home whenever he can to get away from stupid, slightly plump from too many pot noodles and chocolate biscuits, over passionate students.

  He just stared at me. I stared back at his so familiar face, leathery and folded with years of fight, weary from so much effort trying to get the world to see that his home isn’t just important to the people who live there. Even then he showed no anger, just peace. His big brown eyes reminded me of a cow standing at the gate, chewing the cud. Except he wasn’t chewing, he was looking for the right way to say no to me.

  “No.” I say, “Go on, I dare you. Say no. You need me there, you know it. You know I’m right. I can prove my theory while we’re out there, just take me with you. You can’t say no, can you?”

  His mouth opened, closed, formed a variety of shapes that could say almost anything. Anything but yes.

  He sighed and hung his head, staring at the floor.

  In anyone else that would appear to be submission but not Polomu. No. That’s his thinking face. I was winning. He looked back at me.

  “Secure the funding, then we’ll discuss it.” He waved a couple of fingers at me, like Yoda shoving me out of the way with just his brainwaves. I was so stunned I just stepped aside.

  He slipped through the tiniest gap between the door and the frame and all I could do was grin like a moron.

  I flung the door wide and yelled down the corridor,

  “I’m going to the Amazon!”

  ***

  About an hour ago

  There’s no warning. We’re sitting in the hut, smoke filling our lungs, stinging our eyes when she first arrives. We don’t see her at first.

  Amantu freezes, her handful of food halfway to her mouth like she knows something.

  “It is over. She comes.” That’s all she says. She drops the food, slowly stands and walks to the doorway.

  “Wh…What’s over?” I whisper.

  Polomu holds a hand towards me, simply requesting my silence. He scrapes his feet across the floor beneath him, straightens his spindly legs. As I watch him the thick smoke in the roof begins to swirl, disturbed by a breeze that none of us can feel.

  The fire goes out, the embers stifled in a second leaving a blackness that hides everything.

  From outside a deep red glow creeps through the trees, along with it the sound of a swarm of insects. The sound throbs to a rhythm:

  Thrum…Thrum…Thrum…THRUM…THRUM…THRUM…Thrum…Thrum…Thrum…

  The red glow fills the hut passing over the awed faces of my companions. As I watch, the awe fades, they peer at one another and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I realise their faces show the most negative emotion I have ever seen them display.

  Fear.

  ***

  A couple of years ago

  I couldn’t believe my luck. B
ig Tree Fella Corps had sponsored my research!

  ‘The root of sustainability is ours’ was their company value. I sat there in the interview, jabbering on about how I knew that the key to a new economy would be found in the Amazon.

  “Copy the locals, understand how they work with the forest and you’ll have the key to true sustainable business,” I said.

  “Sure!” They said. “Have our money, we’d love to understand them.”

  I gave them the key, sure enough. I handed them Professor Polomu’s home with a goddamn ribbon on it.

  ***

  A year ago

  I was certain I had finished my research. I sat in an air conditioned room in the Instituto Nacional de Pesquisas da Amazonia. I felt legit, I was, after all an Amazon researcher and surely that meant I belonged.

  The air conditioner clunked and whirred throwing out its best attempt at cool air. It sounded more like an old hoover, sucking all the heat out of the room, and was probably just as effective.

  Polomu sat in front of me, reading. Every time he finished a page he flipped it over, the draught was welcome, putting the poor old machine to shame.

  I fidgeted in the chair, shifting from one cheek to the other, trying to cure the numbness that was setting in.

  “Go take a walk.” The Prof didn’t even look up from the page. “You are annoying.”

  I sat still for a moment. He was on the last few pages, it was about to get interesting.

  “I said, go take a walk. That is not a suggestion, it’s an instruction.”

  “But…”

  I watched as he changed. He curled the corners of my work in his clenching fists. He basically growled at me and peered over his glasses.

  I gulped.

  “Get. The hell. Out.” He snarled.