by Amy Cross
Jess
Sometimes, I think Duncan knows all the dark little nooks and crannies in London. As we make our way across the city, he seems to instinctively know all the alleys, all the dark passages, all the short-cuts. I don't even know where we're going, but it feels like we're getting there as fast as possible, staying away from the main streets and barely bumping into anyone along the way. Eventually we reach a door in the side of a nondescript building, and Duncan leads me inside. It's the kind of building that you'd never normally notice, but once we're inside it turns out to be huge.
"It's abandoned," Duncan says as we walk into the dark foyer. "Do you know how many abandoned buildings there are in London?"
"Lots?" I say, guessing.
"Enough for people like us," he says. "Enough to keep us safe for a night. All the effort that goes into creating these places, and then what happens? Humans get tired of them and leave them to rot."
"You really don't like humans very much, do you?" I ask.
He turns to me. "I have my reasons. I've seen what humans can do."
We walk up a set of dusty stairs and eventually we find ourselves in what appears to be an old, abandoned office. There are cubicles with empty desks, and the floor is covered with rubble. There's a lot of old paperwork strewn in the corner, as if the place was abandoned in a hurry. It's a dark, cold and spooky place to be, but a large set of windows gives us a great view of late-night London, skyscrapers rising into the sky. It's useful to be reminded that the rest of the world is out there somewhere.
"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. "Tell me how to do it."
"Do what?" Duncan asks, feigning innocence as he examines a broken desk.
"You know," I say determinedly. "Tell me how to change."
"It's not a party trick," he says. "You'll change when you're ready. There's no point forcing it."
"I want to do it now," I say. "I want to know."
"Go on then," he says.
We stand there in silence for a moment.
"I don't know how," I say eventually, even though it's painfully obvious. I feel like Duncan's being intentionally obtuse, like he's trying to make me feel stupid.
He stares at me. "Are you sure you want me to tell you? It's... Once you've experienced it, it's not something you can forget."
"I figure I should know," I say. "I mean, it might be useful." I look over at the window. All those bright lights outside, all those busy people bound together by one common thing: they're all human. And now, look at me: I've always felt like I'm outside society, but now it's official. I'm different. I'm weird. I'm something else entirely. "What does it feel like?" I ask. "I mean, to feel your entire body changing, to feel... What's it like?"
"What do you think it's like?" he replies maddeningly.
"I don't know," I say, imagining my bones bending and changing. "That's why I asked you. Can't you just answer my question? I feel like you owe me that much."
He thinks about it for a moment. "It's pretty cool. Do you want to try?"
"Pretty cool?" I say. "Is that all you've got to say?"
"It's..." He pauses for a moment. "It's like your whole body grinds itself up inside. It's not magic. It's a physical... a biological process. Everything moves and changes, except two parts: the brain and the heart. Everything shifts around the brain and the heart."
"And -" I start to say.
"You never get used to it," he interrupts. "It never becomes old or dull."
"What kind of wolf will I be?" I ask after a moment. "Will I still be able to think? Will I still have my mind? What color will my fur be? Will I..." I pause for a moment. "Fuck," I say. "I can't be a werewolf. I'm a vegetarian!"
He nods. "You'll be faster. You'll have a different set of senses. You'll be amazed how much better you can see, how much better you can hear and smell. You'll see the world in a totally different way, and... I don't know if you're ready, it's a lot to take in. You'd be better off waiting until the right moment."
"If you didn't think I was ready," I say, "you shouldn't have done this to me."
"I had no choice," he replies. "I was going to wait, but with your injuries I had to act."
"You were going to wait?" I stare at him. "So you were planning to do this to me all along?"
He pauses. "I was planning to offer you a choice."
"Why?" I ask. "Why me? Do you always ask random people to be werewolves?"
"It's not like that," he says.
I try to understand what he's saying, to get inside his mind. But it's impossible. "So," I say, "do you always turn people into werewolves so that you can save them?"
He looks away. "Becoming a wolf," he says eventually, "is a simple matter of letting go of your human nature. Just forget about your everyday worries, and you'll find it will happen painlessly. But that's not easy. Once you understand, you can do it at will. But the first time is an insane experience."
Closing my eyes, trying to relax, I stand there and wait. I try to empty my mind of everything that I usually think about, of everything that usually preoccupies me. More than anything, I want to clear my mind of the thoughts that usually keep me busy: the need to make money; the need to find somewhere to live; the need to keep away from my family. But as hard as I try, I can't seem to be able to make the change that I need. I'm stuck in human form, with Duncan watching me, a look of pity on his face.
He laughs.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says. "Just... you."
"Thanks," I say.
"Relax," he replies. "Just forget all the human things that are keeping you in this form. Just abandon your preoccupations. Everything. Your memories, your dreams, you goals, your regrets. Leave them behind and focus on your primordial urges, the passions that your humanity keeps covered up."
I close my eyes and I try to empty my mind, to get rid of all my human thoughts and feelings. But images and memories keep bursting through, and eventually I give up, opening my eyes. It's at that point that I see Duncan has changed into his wolf form. He's standing watching me, a look of great intelligence in his eyes. He looks so graceful, so intelligent, so noble; it's hard to believe that this is Duncan, that he could become something so beautiful. And looking into his eyes, it's easy to see that this is still him. It's still his eyes staring out at me.
"How do you do it so easily?" I ask.
He walks slowly toward me. I kneel and stroke his head.
"Please," I say. "Tell me how to do it."
He leans toward me and nuzzles my face, which is nice but it really doesn't help.
"It's no use," I say. "I can't do this." I guess I'm stuck in my human form forever. Well, that doesn't sound so bad. Maybe I can just forget the werewolf side of things, pretend like it hasn't happened -
"Help!" calls a voice in the distance.
Duncan and I both turn to look toward the stairs. There's someone on the ground floor, it sounds like a woman.
"Help!" the voice calls again. "Is anyone in here?"
I turn to Duncan, who has instantly changed back to his human form. "It could be a trap," he says.
"They don't know we're here," I say.
"You can't be sure," he replies, but then he tilts his head slightly, like a dog that has picked up an interesting scent. "Do you notice anything?" he asks.
I open my mouth to say that I haven't noticed anything, but then I realize that he's right, there is something. It's like a whole new sense that I never knew I had, and it's telling me that there's something familiar about the person downstairs. And... don't ask me how I know, but I can tell that it's not just one person down there. There are two, and one of them is familiar.
"Olivia," I say quietly, realizing that I recognize the scent.
"Greystone," Duncan says firmly. "This is dangerous. Come on." He turns to walk away, but I stay where I am. "Jess, we have to go," he insists.
"They need help," I say, suddenly aware that I can smell blood in the distance. "They're hurt."
<
br /> "That's their problem," Duncan says. "We have to look after ourselves, come on."
Instinctively, I walk toward the stairs, and as I get there I see two people coming up. One is Olivia, who looks like she's half-dead, with cuts and bruises and blood; ragged strips of skin seem to be hanging from her body. The other is an older, frumpy woman who is supporting Olivia as they make their way slowly up the stairs. They both look like they've been in some kind of fight, but it's definitely Olivia who looks like she's come off worst. As they reach the top of the stairs, it's Olivia who looks at me and says "Hi" before collapsing at my feet in a bloody heap. I look up at the other woman, who just stares at me with shock in her eyes.
Margaret
I guess this is the place, then.
It took us hours to get across London. Olivia could barely move, and I'm getting a bit old for helping someone walk for miles and miles. We had to keep to quieter streets, because there seemed to be an unusually visible military presence, and Olivia was worried that we'd get stopped. It didn't help, either, that Olivia wasn't really able to give me proper instructions about where we were going. But we got here in the end, and now we've found the people Olivia wanted to find.
There are two of them. The one who is standing closest to us is a girl, she looks like she's in her late teens or early twenties, and she kneels down to help Olivia. She has a kind face, and she seems genuinely concerned. The other one is a man, looking a few years older, who stands back and just watches; he has dark, haunted eyes and he doesn't seem to want to get too close to us. There's something cold and unemotional about him, as if he's just watching the rest of us, observing. He gives me the shivers.
"What happened to you?" the girl asks as she looks at Olivia's injuries.
"Same thing that's..." Olivia starts to say, but she stops as she coughs up blood. "Same thing that's going to happen to you, if you're not careful."
"You're bleeding internally," the girl says.
"I'm not here to chat," Olivia replies, wincing as she tries to get up. She decides to stay where she is, but the effort has reopened her wound and blood is pouring out onto the floor. It's clear that she was holding herself together while we made our way here, but now she doesn't have the strength.
"You need a doctor," the girl says. She looks up at me. "Who are you? Where did you find her?"
"Margaret," I say. "I'm just Margaret." I feel very out of place, almost as if I should just politely back away. But I have to stay. I want to find out why Martin was killed. I've always led a quiet, humble life, and this is the first time I've ever come even close to anything that seems big. I can't run away. Not now.
"Don't call anyone," says Olivia. "There's no time, I'll be dead in minutes. You have to listen to me -"
"I'm calling an ambulance," I insist.
"No!" Olivia says, her voice firm. "You're not going to waste my last moments doing something so stupid. You're going to listen to me, because I don't have long and I came all this way to tell you something important." She looks over at the man. "And you."
"Spit it out," the man says coldly.
I turn and scowl at him. How can he be so callous when Olivia's dying? It's as if he doesn't care, as if he's just waiting for her to die.
"Greystone's gone," Olivia says.
"We know," the girl says.
"It's all gone," Olivia continues. "Every facility, destroyed. Every member of the team is dead. They've just wiped it out completely, erased it from existence."
"We know," the man says, sounding annoyed. "It was always coming. You shouldn't be surprised."
"But there's something you don't know," Olivia adds. "There's -" She pauses, apparently in pain. After a moment, she gets her breath back. "No-one knows. Not you. Not the werewolves. Not Chaucer, or Carver, or the little green men, no-one fucking knows about this." She swallows hard, then she takes a small key from her pocket. "I made a copy," she stutters.
"What?" the girl asks.
I look over at the man. For the first time, he seems interested.
"Everything," Olivia says. "All the evidence. All the documents and files. All the photos. I made a copy of it all. You have to keep it safe."
"Where is it?" asks the man.
"Locker -" Olivia grimaces, then gasps. She's dying so fast. "Locker 3232 at Waterloo," she says. She hands the key to the girl. "Everything," she says, staring deep into my eyes, "is in there."
"3232," the girl says. "Got it."
"3232," I mutter under my breath. No-one is really paying me any attention. It's like being back at school, when everyone just got on with their interesting lives and dull Margaret was left watching from the sidelines.
"Give it to me," says Duncan, stepping toward them both.
"No!" says Olivia. She stares at the girl. "Not him. You. I don't trust him. I don't really trust you, but at least you're not -" She coughs up some blood. "Be careful," she continues, and then her whole body seems to relax. "If they find out about it..." Her voices kind of peters out, as if she's about to die.
"Wait!" the girl shouts. She turns to the man. "You can save her!" she shouts. "You saved me, you can save her! Come on, do it!" There's no reply. The man just stands there, staring. "Do it!" the girl shouts at him.
"No," says Olivia. "No fucking way."
"Do it!" the girl says to the man firmly.
"I can't," the man says. "Not against her will. If she doesn't want me to -"
"Do it!" the girl shouts.
"No!" Olivia shouts. "I won't let you turn me into one of those disgusting things. I'd rather die."
"You don't have to die at all," the girl says, looking down into Olivia's face. "Just let Duncan change you, and you can live forever."
"I don't want to be a filthy werewolf," Olivia gasps.
"It's not so bad," I say. "He did it to me."
Olivia's eyes widen. "He did it to you?" she asks.
I nod. "To save my life. It's okay. I mean, I don't know everything about it yet, I'm still new. But there's nothing to be worried about. It just takes a couple of minutes, and then you're done. There's no... side effects or anything."
Olivia smiles. "Is that what he told you?" she asks, her eyes lighting up. "No side effects?" She looks over at the man. "Did you turn this girl into a werewolf and tell her there are no side effects?"
"Apart from the obvious," the girl says. "Obviously."
Olivia laughs. She's bleeding, dying, and she can barely breath, but she manages to laugh. "Oh you poor little bitch," she says. "You poor fucking little bitch, you have no idea what he's done to you."
"It can't be that bad," the girl says, though it's clear from her face that she doesn't really believe what she's saying.
Olivia shakes her head. "Put it this way," she says. "I'd rather die than let him do to me... what he's done to you. You'll find out... what it means... I wish... I could be around to... see your face." She laughs again, but this time a huge gurgle of blood spews out from the wound in her chest. She goes limp and passes out.
"Save her!" the girl shouts to the man, but he does nothing. The girl turns to him. "Just save her!"
"Excuse me," I say.
"I can't save her," the man says. "She explicitly told me that she refuses, I can't go against her wishes."
"You can," the girl says. It's almost as if she's begging now.
"Excuse me," I say again, raising my voice.
"Stop asking me," the man says to the girl. "It can't happen. She had her chance, and she turned it down. Besides -"
"Excuse me!" I say for a third time, my voice louder again.
This time, the girl turns to me, tears in her eyes. "What?"
I open my mouth to speak, but I'm not sure how to phrase this.
"I'm sorry," I say eventually, "but I think it's too late." I look down at Olivia's body. "I think she's dead."
Jess
I look down at Olivia's body. Her dead eyes are staring across the floor, and there's a considerable pool of blood beneath he
r now. Just a moment ago, she was speaking and moving, and now her body is just that... a body, a pile of flesh and bones that was once alive but now just rests on the floor. There's no more use for it. Olivia herself has gone, and now there's just a body left behind.
But she died too soon. Not only because she was young, but also because she clearly still had so much to tell me, so much to say. When she found out what Duncan had done to me, she seemed shocked, and she preferred to die than to let him do the same thing to her.
"What did she mean?" I ask, turning to Duncan.
"We'll talk about it later," he says, looking about nervously. "We have to get out of here."
"I want to talk about it now," I say.
"It's too dangerous," he says. "They'll be here soon."
"Tell me!" I say. "What exactly did you do to me?"
"I already told you," he says, sounding impatient.
"You told me part of it, but there's more, isn't there?" I reply.
He looks away.
"There's something you're not saying!" I continue.
He sighs. "Being a werewolf isn't just about having fun, living forever and being able to turn into a wolf whenever you feel like it," he says. "That's just part of it, that's just the... fun part."
"Spit it out," I say. "What have you done to me?"
There's a cough from across the room. We both turn to see the old woman standing there, watching us.
"Can I go?" she asks. She looks like an old lady who went out for her shopping and happened to accidentally wander into a situation she doesn't understand.
I look at Duncan, figuring this is his call.
"Who are you?" he says, stepping toward her. He seems to have a darker tone to his voice. I'm pretty sure he's intentionally trying to seem menacing, to scare her a little.
"M-m-margaret," she says, clearly nervous. She looks down at Olivia's dead body.
"Have you ever seen a dead body before, Margaret?" Duncan asks.
Margaret nods. "Once," she says. "Yesterday, someone... shot my friend."
