by Nem Rowan
"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about sad little Ceri running away," I replied. He looked up at me as I moved closer, trapping him between myself and the door so that he couldn't escape. "Ceri. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't know you lost someone close to you. Didn't you think for a second that I know what that feels like? You don't have to play macho man in front of me. If there's anything a woman appreciates in a man, it's a little bit of a sensitive side to him."
He made a snuffling laugh, pulling the sleeve of his jumper out from under his coat sleeve so that he could wipe at his wet nose. "Yeah, guess so. You're not the first one to tell me that. I'm a lot better than I used to be. Used to have some anger issues and whatnot."
"So now you run away, rather than getting angry, yeah?" I assumed.
He nodded slowly. He seemed ashamed of himself.
"Christine heard us arguing; she heard everything we said. So let's just be frank with her, all right? And you and me are gonna have a heart to heart soon. I'm taking a page out Mecky's book and I won't accept a no from you." I pointed a finger at him threateningly. It was a relief to see him smile and I placed my hand on his chest, gently rubbing it with my palm. For some reason, I had the overwhelming desire to kiss him. Why did I always want to kiss men after I was done beating them up? I guess it must have been that little bit of sadism in me.
"Thanks, Leon," he mumbled. We were so close, and when he tilted his head, I really thought he was going to kiss me, but instead, we froze. I could feel the rapid movement of his heart under my palm. Was he nervous? Did he think I would reject him?
"Ceri, you are home late!" Mecky's voice called down the stairs behind us. When I turned, I found her standing at the top of them, her arms folded.
"Sorry, I'll go and get everything ready." He shuffled away from me, unzipping his jacket and heading for the stairs. As he passed, he gazed at me with a timid smile. Yes, I was right, he was going to kiss me.
"Good! Otherwise we are like to really kill you, no joke!" she exclaimed as he jogged up the steps towards her. She followed him into the hallway, out of my line of view.
I sighed, rubbing at my eyes with my fingertips and silently punishing myself. Getting involved with Ceri; what the fuck, just how desperate was I? Sure, it had been awhile since I had had sex, but this was a new low. Or maybe I was learning to be less judgemental of appearances. Good. I needed some morals, really; I had been a prissy bitch when I was a teen, able to pick and choose the people I slept with based on looks alone, simply because I had been young and attractive. Now I was old and dog-eared; I was a tatty library book that couldn't choose who was to read me.
But there was something charming about Ceri. He had a good sense of humour; his eyes were an interesting colour and his body was in pretty good shape. There was something to be said about the appeal of an older man. No, no. It was a bad idea. Not in these close quarters, where Mecky and Christine would hear us. Now was not a good time, maybe later. Maybe when this was all over. I wasn't sure I would be able to hold off that long though. Damn.
"Leon? Can you take me into the basement?" Christine's voice called to me. She was standing on the steps, her feet in a pair of Mecky's fluffy slippers, her dark hair tied up in a bun atop her head.
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Come here, it's this way." I nodded, slapping away all the thoughts of how big Ceri's private parts might be.
"Ceri gave me the key," she told me as she joined me at the bottom of the steps.
"Oh yeah—totally forgot about that," I grumbled, feeling momentarily disorientated. Christine followed me to the rear of the room where the hatch was hidden, and she knelt to undo the padlock for me, her agile fingers making quick work of it.
We went down together once I had turned the lights on, and she unconsciously clung onto my arm, seeming rather unnerved about being down here in this cold, sparsely decorated room.
"Did you change here last night?" she asked, and I nodded as I brought her over to the heap of chains and padlocks.
"Yeah, it was the first time though. I accidentally threw up the medicine, so Ceri had to wrestle with me. He was all right though." I smiled reassuringly.
"Oh. Where did you change before?" she inquired with a slight frown.
"Before? Oh—well, out on the streets. I was homeless. I guess I'm not really homeless anymore. Ceri brought me here not long ago. Was last night your first change? How long have you been a werewolf?" I asked her with genuine curiosity.
"Last night was the first time. Wallace bit me during the last full moon," she mumbled, dark memories replaying behind her eyes as she swayed from side to side, her hands clasped behind her back. "He promised he would keep me chained up to protect me, but I escaped."
I nodded in acknowledgement and placed my hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle pat. "We'll talk about Wallace tomorrow. Ceri probably wants to give you a right old grilling, anyway. But don't you worry, Auntie Leon will make sure he's not mean to you."
She giggled, her eyes lighting up with amusement at last. It wasn't good to see her looking so sad, and I felt relieved when she smiled. "I wondered why you kept referring to yourself as a woman but now I know who you are. You're the drag queen Wallace kept talking about. Leona Valentine, right?"
"Yeah, that's right... Wallace kept talking about me? What did he say?" I questioned, unable to stop one of my brows from arching.
"Oh, he didn't tell me much; he was pretty secretive. But he had a poster of you on the wall. He was looking for you." She started to go quiet again, a sign that I needed to change the course of conversation. Fortunately, Mecky and Ceri arrived before I had to think of something else to talk about. Their footfalls on the stairs caught our attention and Mecky waved in greeting.
We prepared for the transformation exactly the same way we had yesterday evening, and this time I was ready to drink the medicine with sheer bloody-minded determination. Mecky had brought a straw for me and watered it down a bit so I was able to drink it without really tasting it very much. Ceri was apologetic for not thinking of this sooner; it was Mecky's fault for being so stubborn and tough that she didn't need to drink it through a straw like Christine and me. By the time I knew the change was coming, I was already feeling the impending tide of numbness while the three of us sat side by side against the wall. Christine was nervous so I whispered to her comfortingly, reassuring her that it would be all right.
Meanwhile, Ceri stepped away into the shadows on the other side of the room, the burning end of his cigarette lighting up his face from time to time. I almost didn't feel the transformation when it began; it was only when my whole body started to shake and the twisting sensation in my lower back became more obvious that I knew it had begun. Unlike the times before, there was less pain, and instead I sank down onto my side and stretched into the metamorphosis like I was doing a bizarre kind of yoga, and by the time it was over, I was so heavily sedated that I felt just about ready to go to sleep.
It was the first time since the curse began that I wasn't afraid that I might kill again. I gazed up at the dark shape of Ceri as he put the chain round my neck, and that was the last memory I had before sleep consumed me.
Eleven
Through the doorway and onto the stage floor littered with roses and confetti, my paws scraped against the shiny gloss finish and I found myself staring into a butcher shop filled with meat packaged in clothing, my steely coat lit up under the spotlight and my eyes reflecting it back, blue lanterns within a hideous, snarling face. The drag queens, the drag kings, the men, the women and everyone in between, all stared back. The band stopped playing and at first there was almost silence, almost, as some people at the back of the club continued about their business, only to realise the music had stopped and everyone else had turned towards the stage.
There stood a fox at the doorway to the henhouse.
Bodies scattered as I leaped from the stage, right into the pit beneath, instruments clanging and crashing, musicians fleeing left and r
ight. A severed arm torn clean from the torso was thrown into the air, blood streaming from its open end as it landed on a table, bottles and glasses tumbling to the ground and ejecting their fizzy contents. The iron-rich stench of blood overpowered everything. I left the pit, abandoning my limp prey and chasing into the crowd, the monkeys around me shrieking and crying to escape, climbing over tables and chairs, climbing over each other, climbing the walls to get out.
Running with the frenzy, Amy could do nothing to escape when she saw me coming. With a lash of my muscled arm, I decapitated her fleeing body, sending her head bouncing across table tops, shedding hair and jewellery on the way. The scrum of frantic prey funnelled into the narrow club foyer; people were crushed under more people. The cacophony of screaming grew so loud that nothing could be distinguished in the noise. Only my voice, the roar of a beast, rose above it like the tolling of church bells. I thundered into them, lifting and throwing those that I trampled underfoot, people effortlessly tossed into the air like balls of scrunched up paper aimed at a bin, only to crash down on tables heaped with glasses and overturned chairs, impaled on their upward-facing legs. Body parts covered the floor, blood pooling in the grouted channels between the tiles, even dripping from the still-rotating disco ball above.
Slater was crawling on all fours away from the massacre, torn intestines spurting liquid faeces over his trouser legs; his spine snapped as he was slammed down under my paw when I turned to chase an escaping victim. My gaping jaws aimed at the backside of the barefoot woman, who shrieked as I clamped my teeth into her thigh and took her off her feet. Blood gushed from the wound and flesh split apart like jelly as I shook her violently, her head cracking against a table corner and popping a deep hole in her forehead through which more scarlet fluid began to spill. Bored, she was thrown aside, and I turned towards the mass of clamouring people. Those that could still walk were escaping outside; I had to follow. I stalked down the steps into the foyer, paws slipping and skidding in the puddles of gore that were splashed everywhere. The last of my prey shrieked as it fled from me, my hot breath pluming in the chill air beyond as I panted noisily.
Blue lights flashed in my face, hurting my sensitive eyes. There were sacks of meat all around, some wrapped in lots of material, some not so much, and others in matching covers. They were jumping out of cars and they had guns. Bullets pelted the club's neon-signed exterior when the police opened fire, forcing me to dart sideways around the building, screeching when a bullet struck my flank. Another embedded itself in my shoulder and one more ricocheted off my skull.
"Leon!"
The nightmare receded for a moment, but the silence that followed caused the visions to return, and it was only when I felt someone shaking me that they finally dissipated. Groaning, I opened my eyes to the pale ceiling lights of the basement. My head was resting on someone's lap, and they patted my cheek to coax me awake. I blinked a few times and realised it was Mecky.
"Leon? You are crying, bad dreams," she whispered to me as she stroked my hair back from my forehead. "You have nightmare?"
"Ugh..." I grumbled. Now that I was awake, my body cried out plaintively from having slept on the concrete all night. When I opened my eyes properly, I noticed that the both of us were naked still with the chains round our necks, and her bare breasts were inches away from my face. Fortunately she had been kind enough to drape a towel over me, however, but the close proximity still made me feel awkward.
"Leon? You wake now?" she repeated, seeming concerned that I wasn't speaking.
"Mecky... I was having a nightmare..." I replied, figuring if I closed my eyes again, I wouldn't feel so embarrassed.
"Yes! That is what I think!"
"Thanks for waking me," I mumbled. I licked my dry, cracked lips and fantasised about a huge mug of hot tea.
"You are okay?" she implored through the darkness of my eyelids.
"I'm all right. Just flashbacks from the massacre. I saw Amy there. I killed her again," I whispered, my words barely audible.
Mecky stroked my hair slowly, pulling it back behind my ears and caressing my temples with her thumbs as she peered down at me. Her chain leash clinked when she moved.
She eventually spoke. "I have nightmare, too,"
"I don't know about you, but I ain't had a good night's sleep since I got the curse. Ya know? A real refreshing night's sleep?" I opened my eyes and looked up at her. The small points of her bosoms framed her face; she didn't seem to care that she was nude so I decided I wouldn't either.
"No. I have no good sleep either," she agreed with a nod.
I turned my head and looked across to where the sleeping shape of Christine lay; Mecky had draped a towel over her, too.
"Where's Ceri?" I asked after a pause.
"Sleeping still, I don't know. He have key to undo chains," she replied as she lifted the chain around her neck and tried to pull it off over her head, to no avail. "I am hungry and wanting food. I am making breakfast later."
"Why don't I cook for a change?" I offered, causing her to grin amusedly. "What? You think I don't know how to cook?"
"No, I am not thinking that. I like it to cook." She shrugged, but I could see mischief in her eyes and I knew she had meant to tease me.
"Oh yeah, really. Well, why don't I help you then?" I smiled, and she nodded agreeably.
"All right. That is good," she replied. She lifted a hand and raked some of her fair hair back behind her ear, gazing off in Christine's direction. I grunted as I sat up and looked too, both of us peering across the basement to her unmoving form.
"I'm glad we found her," I said in an undertone as I imagined how many other people might have been killed if we had left her out in the woods.
"Me too. Very happy," Mecky agreed, her voice muted too. "Maybe we are like to find more werewolf. Maybe we have big family soon."
"Would you be okay with that? Having lots of strangers living in your house?" I looked round at her curiously, and she looked round at me.
"Yes. I am never alone." She nodded with a big grin.
We heard footfalls on the ceiling, the tell-tale thumping of Ceri's heavy feet on the floorboards above, and a minute or two later, there came the sound of the padlock being undone. He pulled the hatch door open and descended the steps, wearing a pair of pyjamas and the same vest from two days ago—I made a note to tell him off for being a dirty git—and when he saw us awake, he smiled in greeting.
"Sorry, must have overslept or something," he apologised as he approached with keys in hand.
I reached for the corner of my towel and pulled it round myself tightly. The movement caught his attention, drawing his eyes towards me, but I didn't look up at him. Mecky was oblivious, however.
"We are hungry!" Mecky complained, making a pouty face at him as he knelt beside us.
I thought he would unlock her first, so I was surprised when his hand came towards me, lifting the heavy chain and clunky padlock from my bare chest so that he could remove it. It was a relief to have it taken off; the weight was beginning to make my neck ache. As he turned to unlock Mecky, I caught him stealing a glance at me and our eyes met for a brief second. The saucy bastard was blatantly checking me out, and while normally I would have cavorted in front of anyone who found me attractive, this time I felt it would be more appropriate to be the dark horse. Instead I looked away, letting him think I wasn't interested. Playing hard to get could be fun, I knew that well.
"Thank you," Mecky grunted, no doubt relieved to have the chain removed.
"I haven't had breakfast yet, either; I thought we could have it together," Ceri answered as he moved across to where Christine was sleeping.
"Me and Leon are cooking," Mecky told him as she got up, throwing the chain off her legs and wrapping a towel round herself.
I didn't speak; I wasn't sure what to say to Ceri, even as he hovered near me as though expecting some dialogue from me. Embarrassed for my own emotions, I got up and headed for the stairs.
Twelve
After we were dressed and had had breakfast, the group of us congregated in the living room with Christine in the middle looking a bit on the nervous side. Mecky didn't seem to mind me smoking a cigarette in here; in fact, she lit one herself and we both peered sideways at the hesitant girl while Ceri took the armchair and finished his mug of tea. Christine was still wearing the stripy pyjamas from yesterday, her hair in a bun atop her head and her youthful face drawn with weariness. Ceri put his empty mug on the coffee table. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and there were threadbare patches in the knees of his jeans, but he had at least changed into some clean clothes and washed his untidy hair.
"So Christine, are you gonna tell us just what happened before we found you in the cemetery?" he began, breaking the silence that otherwise would have remained, since neither Mecky nor I were particularly looking forward to interrogating the girl.
"Well, I escaped from Wallace's house," she replied as though it was obvious, but her hesitant sarcasm quickly turned to timidity. When Ceri didn't prompt her again, she looked down at her hands as they fiddled with the tassel on one of the cushions. "He's got a house near the estate. It's where he kept me locked up in one of the bedrooms, up on the top floor. The last full moon, he chained himself up and chased me around the room. He bit me a few times and I really thought he was going to kill me until I figured out that I could hide in the wardrobe and he couldn't get me then. So I stayed there until daytime came, when he changed back."
"And you escaped the following night, I'm assuming?" Ceri spoke. He had taken up one of his notepads and was writing this all down, the pen furiously scrawling across the page.
"Yeah. He didn't make the chain tight enough and I pulled it off over my head. He wasn't at the house then; I dunno where he went. I was on my own and I broke out of the house and ran into the woods. I was so scared," she said, unable to make eye contact with any of us. "I thought I would hide in the woods for awhile, maybe walk to the other side and look for a police station. But when it got dark, I changed into...well, a werewolf."
