CHAPTER 35 April 3, 1993
Arnie’s Journal
Took Sarah to the movie last night. It felt good being around her again. Except we saw some movie called The Wolf Pack. Hated it was fake as shit. Too much computerized effects nowadays. That director forgot to actually have a decent plot. It was about a group of teenagers who get attacked by this werewolf, and they all get cursed and they form this pack between each other and go on this mass murdering spree. Couldn’t believe how fake it was. I still think the best werewolf movie I’ve seen is American Werewolf. Besides when you know what I know about werewolves it kind of ruins it all. Sarah was a little mad because I fell asleep through the damn movie.
My wound on my hand hasn’t healed, which means that the silver bullet part of the legend is true.
Jay didn’t find anything except a letter from a brother she has. He told me about this old Indian that he bumped into that lives up in Huntsville, a good twenty-five miles from here. He said the Indian knew who we were and knew a hell of a lot about werewolves. We’ll be driving up there tomorrow. Other than that, my nightmares have been getting worse and both my parents are out of town again. As for Sarah, same as usual. She’s still trying to get me to tell her what’s going on and we get into the same argument every time I see her.
Funny how some of the myths on werewolves are true and some are not. It’s almost like they’re written purposely that way to throw people off. Lately, I’ve been wondering if werewolves are real. What else is real that we’ve been raised to believe is not? How much do we really know? How much truth are we really living? At least the silver bullet part is true. It’s funny how something like this can really make a person’s eyes open up and see the world in a way never imagined. How something like this can make a person realize how short and important life really is. How the little things in life are far more trivial. Anyway, like always, gotta go.
CHAPTER 36
“So you decided to come,” the old Indian man said, pointing to an old couch, asking Jay and Arnie to take a seat.
“So go ahead, old man, tell him what you told me,” Jay said, leaning back against the couch.
“I told your friend that the best thing for the both of you is to have him fill you with silver.” The man adjusted his wrinkled plaid shirt. “By the way, my name is Gulaunt,” the old man said, shaking Arnie’s hand. “So you want to know about werewolves, do you?”
“Yeah,” Arnie replied.
“You should know you are one,” the man said confidently.
“How would you know that?” Arnie asked.
“You come in here already knowing what you know of the world, and still you question such things. Sometimes things just are. There are no answers or explanation on why. So tell me, why have you come?”
“Because there’s so much I still don’t know.”
“What is it that you want to know that you have not already learned?”
“That’s a good question. I was just hoping that maybe… ”
“That maybe I could tell you who made you what you are,” the man said interrupted.
“Yes,” Arnie said with a sigh.
“You read too much books, boy. You give yourself false hope. Finding the one that cursed you will only lead to more death. There will be no salvation when you find it. I suggest you say your good-byes to the world by yourself; a couple of silver bullets would end your suffering.”
“You, miserable asshole, how can you tell him that?” Jay replied. “He can’t just give up. There has to be a way.”
“Yes, and you think by killing the other, like your friend, will release him from the curse.”
“It’s worth a try,” Jay said as Arnie sat next to him with a blank stare of defeat.
“Yes, but how many people will have to die before you find the one that did this to your friend. Ten, twenty? One death is better than two,” the man replied coldly.
“So you’re saying, just give up?” Jay asked with frustration.
“I’m telling you that your friend needs to decide what is more important, his life or the life of others? Trust me,” the man said, getting up from his seat, walking over to his window. “I was twenty-two years old when my brother Timothy was attacked by a werewolf. Weeks went by until one night the moon was full and he changed. Twelve people were killed that night. My brother came to me for help, and of course, I obliged. Every time the moon was full, I’d lock him up in my barn. Years went by, and we never found the one that attacked him. Then one night my brother broke free of the chains. Before I could stop him he killed two people. The next morning I buried my brother, wife, 5 yr old son and ten year old daughter. I searched for years trying to find the one responsible for my brother’s curse,” he continued. “I never found him. After I killed my brother, the killings stopped, so I moved on with my life; that was until recently when the murders started again. And then I read about you,” Gulaunt said, referring to Arnie. “I knew the one that cursed my brother returned.”
“If you know that it’s him, why not help us?” Jay asked.
“I’m too old. Besides, it’s been gone for years; there’s no telling how many others like you are out there, Arnie. There’s no way to really know that this wolf that infected you is the one true wolf that would break the curse, and for all you know, that bit about killing the head werewolf might be nothing more than a fable. What I’m trying to say is you cannot keep a secret locked up forever. You see, chains were made to be broken. Sacrificing one’s life for others is not giving up; it’s doing the right thing.”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but there is really no other way,” Gulaunt said, walking the boys out.
“Can I ask you something?” Jay asked. “Do you ever regret killing your brother?”
“Yes, I regret not killing him sooner. If I had, my family would be alive,” Gulaunt said, looking into Jay’s blue eyes.
CHAPTER 37
Arnie’s Journal April 6, 1993
Today we talked to the old Indian. I wish I never did. I don’t know what to do. That old man is right. How many more people will have to die before I can find a cure, if there is any? How long ‘til someone else close to me is hurt? I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. I think Jay’s starting to feel the same way. He denies it but I can see it in his eyes. Fact is, I don’t want to die. There’s so much I still want to do. Places I want to see. Things I want to learn. There’s a whole life that I used to be able to see in front of me; now there’s nothing more but a dark blanket. However, if dying is the only way, then I rather die than live with any more people’s deaths on my conscious.
CHAPTER 38
Inspector Rodriguez sat on his old worn leather seat as rain hit the window of his house. He shuffled through pictures of mangled bodies, puffing on a huge cigar, wondering, thirty-three bodies in the last three months, and the list still grows, and all we got is a big animal for a suspect. Of course, there’s still something about that boy, Arnie, that I can’t pinpoint. To date, he’s the only known survivor. Maybe that’s why whoever’s doing this is killing people around him. Lunatics work that way. Nobody’s ever escaped until Arnie. Maybe the killer’s waiting for the right moment. Then again, what animal does that?
Rodriguez stopped and stuck a tape in a small recorder next to his desk. The two paramedics that were killed had left their receiver on. Maybe there’s something there, the inspector thought, pressing Play. The first couple of minutes of the tape was a bunch of jabber; then there was a bang, like metal ripping. Then came the screams, like the devil had come. He could hear an animal of some sort growling viciously as the men screamed in terror. After that, all he could hear was gurgles and ripping of flesh as the men drowned in their blood. What came next sent a wave of goose-bumps across his body as a howl filled with ungodliness behind it echoed through the inspector’s room. In all my years hunting, I have never heard a wolf howl like that, Rodriguez thought, putting out his cigar in his silver tray. Rodriguez scanned
the pictures filled with bodies mutilated beyond identification and, for a moment, for the first time in his career, considered turning in his badge. Rodriguez’s phone rang causing him to jump. “Hello,” Rodriguez replied. “Oh no. I’ll be right over. Listen, I’ll handle it. I’m on my way.” He walked out hurrying to his car. He drove off not believing what had happened.
Inspector Rodriguez walked up to Arnie’s door with a cold expression on his face. He then took a long breath and knocked on Arnie’s door.
“Just a minute,” a voice said from inside the house. The door opened, and Arnie greeted the inspector with a very sarcastic hello. “What seems to be the problem?” Arnie asked as his girlfriend Sarah walked up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder.
“Can I come in?” the inspector asked.
“Why?” Arnie asked, concerned.
“Please, we need to sit down and talk,” the inspector begged.
“Okay, come in.” Arnie said curiously. “So what’s up?”
The inspector sat down on his mother’s blue couch that was made of leather. “Well, see how I can put this,” the inspector said, fluttering through his lips as Arnie and Sarah sat down on the smaller-size couch that was also blue velvet. “Your parents,” the inspector said, hesitating.
“What about my parents?” Arnie said with a chill.
“They’re gone,” the inspector replied hoarsely.
“What do you mean gone?” Arnie asked, trying to fight back his tears.
“We found your parents’ car on the side of the highway.”
“What happened? Did my dad fall asleep at the wheel?” Arnie asked as tears began to slide down his cheek. Sarah pulled Arnie close to her as she too began to cry.
“They were killed, Arnie, same as all the others.”
Arnie banged his fist on the small wooden table in the middle of the room.
“I informed your friend Jay’s family. They’re on their way over to pick you up.”
“You have any idea who did this?” Sarah asked.
“Some kind of animal. We haven’t been able to get a match on what yet, but there are canine traces. Although, if there is an animal, it’s likely that a person is behind these murders. Look, kid, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. Hang in there. Things will work themselves out. In the meantime, try to stay indoors,” Rodriguez added cautiously.
CHAPTER 39
Arnie’s Journal April 22, 1993
My parents were killed yesterday. There is no way I could have done it. I was chained up all night long. Whoever did this, knows who I am. Of all the people, why my parents? Why go after my mother and father? I never even got to apologize for the way I’ve been acting. For all the late nights. Been sneaking out so I could go to the meadow. That way I could protect the people I love from myself. It will eventually go after Jay but at least Jay knows what he’s dealing with. At least Jay can handle himself.
That Indian made me think about everything. He put my whole life into perspective and he was right. The only way to stop those I love from being hurt is to end my life. If I do that now there’s no guarantee he still won’t go after my friends. After we find this monster then I’ll let Jay take care of me but till then I’m going to stick around ‘til we find this bastard and put an end to him.
Just when I was ready to die, that son of a bitch goes and kills my family. I want to see this damn motherfucker dead. I will not rest till I see this through. Then, again, if I don’t kill myself, what’s to stop me from killing Sarah and Jay? I don’t want to go through with what I went through with Danny. Before I die, I need to know that Sarah and Jay are safe. It’s a risk I’m going to have to take. It’s a risk staying alive. It’s getting late and tonight’s a full moon. Gotta go.
CHAPTER 40
Jay secured the master locks to the chains around Arnie’s ankles and wrists as he ran to his truck. Just as he did, a black pipe hit him in the face, sending his body to the floor as he slipped into unconsciousness.
“Jay!” Arnie yelled with disbelief as a masked figure stepped out of the shadows, walking over to Arnie. The figure then connected a small metallic box to his black nylon mask.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” the figure said, talking into the synthesizer, stepping in front of Arnie as the box gave the figure’s voice a robotic tone… today’s technology. “I must admit you have heart… although, you are a foolish boy.”
“Who are you?” Arnie yelled in anger.
“The answer will come in time. Only when you realize and accept the gift that has been bestowed upon you. Look at you, disgraceful. All that power and you lock it up.”
“There’s no power in killing,” Arnie replied.
“On the contrary. There is much power. Is it not said that it is God, if there is a God that takes and giveth life? Does that not make us gods too?” The figure poked at Arnie’s chest with his finger.
“Why kill my parents?”
“Because soon you will become like me, but first all ties to your former life must be eliminated. Then and only then will you realize your purpose. Yes, even now the beast inside cries out for the kill. I can hear it crying for meat.”
“You’re insane,” Arnie said, stretching his chains to the limit, trying to hit the figure.
“No! What’s insane is you locked in these chains… refusing to give in to your instincts. It’s a human quality that sickens me. How many times does a man see a woman he wants and does not take her? Always refusing to give in to the very instincts given to us since the beginning of time. How many times do people not take what they really want? How many people really live? I do this world a favor. I rid it from the disease that infests this earth.”
“What is that?” Arnie asked.
“Humanity,” the voice replied. “For humanity is what killed the beast. In the end, Arnie, humanity will kill this world.”
“So where’s the living in killing? The killing of helpless, innocent people?” Arnie asked.
“My dear boy, no one is innocent,” the masked figure replied as he approached Arnie.
“What are you doing?” Arnie said, backing away from the masked figure.
“I’m going to free you. I thought you might make this difficult.” Then the figure reached to his back, bringing out a small .22 magnum. “So I came prepared,” the figure replied, shooting the chains.
“You, bastard, how dare you.”
“I dare,” the masked figure said, looking up at the moon. “Now, very shortly, we’ll feast upon the meat of your friend and celebrate as you become one with the night,” the masked figure continued as his bones began to creak and crack and his clothes began to rip.
“No, I won’t let you,” Arnie said, hitting the figure with the chains that hung from his wrists over the head, sending the figure to the floor. Arnie ran over to Jay, struggling to fight his change.
“Come on, Jay, get up!” Arnie said, lifting Jay up and putting him in the driver’s seat of his truck. Arnie quickly searched Jay’s pocket for the keys, and as he did, he looked back in horror, remembering that the figure had taken Jay’s keys and the figure’s change was just about complete. Arnie then slapped Jay, begging him to get up. Arnie then screamed in horror and pain, collapsing to the floor as his body was filled with a rush of heat.
Jay slowly began to come to, and just as he did, he looked down to the floor, seeing Arnie changing. “Holy shit!” Jay yelled, searching for his keys. “Great!” Jay said, shutting the door and closing the window to his truck, locking his doors. He then ripped the shell to the steering wheel off, trying desperately to hot-wire his truck. Jay quickly used one hand to reach inside his glove compartment to retrieve his gun; his other hand fumbled through the wires. A loud thump was heard as his truck shook. Jay looked in his rearview mirror. He could see the beast standing on his truck bed, readying for the kill. Sparks flashed as the motor to Jay’s car sounded. He quickly put his truck on reverse and pressed on the gas, hitting the brakes, sending the beast flyi
ng off the truck. Jay immediately put his truck in drive, speeding out of the woods, looking through his rearview mirror in horror as the two beasts stood eye to eye, preparing for battle.
The next morning, Jay drove into the meadow cautiously, keeping one hand on the gun that rested on his lap. The night had ended, but he remembered that the other wolf had attacked Arnie during the day. He wasn’t going to take any chances, he thought, as he searched the meadow for Arnie. His eyes scanned the trees. Jay’s heart dropped as he spotted his friend.
“Jesus!” Jay said, stopping his truck, running over to Arnie’s body, which was nailed five feet in the air against a tall oak tree. Twelve-inch nails had been inserted through Arnie’s hands and feet; five nails penetrated his skull, keeping Arnie’s body securely fastened to the tree. Arnie’s face had a huge gash, and his naked body oozed with dark red blood.
Bark (The Werewolf Journal's Book 1) Page 9
