Lupine Howl: The Complete First Series (All 8 books)

by Amy Cross

  12.

  Summoning all my strength, I throw myself at the beast. Here, now, at the bottom of the pit, we must find a way to settle our differences once and for all. He is insane, crazed and dangerous, his eyes filled with the passion of a madman. Left alone down here for so many centuries, he has become filled with nothing more than rage and agony. It is this ancient anger that I must face now. I have fought many other werewolves over the years, and I have won every battle. But this time, I feel certain that I am about to lose.

  I tear into his flesh, ripping out muscle and bone. He does the same to me. Opening my eyes, I find my face pressed close to his, my eye almost against his eye. Looking deep into his soul, I see nothing but hatred and rage, no sign of the Matt DiMera who was for so many years this wolf's human form. That's a pity. I had hoped to be able to reason with him, but it seems that this will not be possible.

  If I die here, what will that achieve? Nothing. The other wolf will merely live on, emboldened by the slaughter, feasting on my blood. He will then turn his attention to Jess, and he will undoubtedly kill her too. Then he will turn to the thought of escape, and he will begin to once again slowly climb the walls of the pit. So much rests on my success here. If I lose this fight, the wolf will leave the pit for eternity and the deal that has kept the werewolves alive will start to unravel. Then the slaughterers will move in, and my entire species will be destroyed.

  At that moment, I feel an indescribable hit of pain flash up my left side. He has bitten through part of my torso, and the pain is unbearable. But instead of pulling away, instead of trying to heal myself, I must fight to the death. Certain death, though it may be.

  13.

  The two wolves tear into one another's flesh, ripping huge chunks away in their jaws. Pools of blood collect beneath them as their injuries reveal sinewy muscles, and the roar of their voices is deafening. The floor continues to shake under the force of their confrontation, and there is nowhere for me to hide since they're blocking the door into the other chamber. All I can do is stand here and watch them, and wait for one of them to strike the final blow that ends this contest.

  I look up to the top of the pit, and I see Olivia staring down at us.

  “Help me!” I scream at her.

  She ducks her head out of sight, as if to avoid seeing what's about to happen. I step aside as Duncan and Matt continue to circle one another, snarling, preparing for their final battle. In such a confined place, it's hard to believe that they could be about to face off against one another, and it's even harder to believe that I've got much chance of surviving once things kick off. I try to keep my distance as the two animals circle one another, but Duncan looks like he has no chance: compared to the other wolf, he looks tiny, and he's bleeding heavily. He's already losing this battle.

  “Hey!” shouts Olivia from up top.

  As I look up, she throws the rope down and I grab on and start climbing up. Below me, I can hear Duncan and Matt starting to fight, tearing into each other. I can't look back, but as I climb I can hear the sounds of an intense battle and looking up I can see the horror on Olivia's face as she sees what's happening.

  I haul myself over the edge and Olivia immediately starts hauling the rope up. I look back down just in time to see Duncan making a jump to grab the rope, but he can't reach it.

  “Let him up!” I shout to Olivia.

  “I can't,” she says. “I can't risk Matt escaping”.

  “You can't let Duncan die,” I say.

  “They're both werewolves,” she replies. “They're both vermin. If we're lucky, they'll just kill each other and save us the bother”.

  “I thought Matt was your friend”.

  She turns to me, a look of hatred in her eye. “So did I,” she says.

  After a moment, I push her away and let the rope drop back down into the pit. Pulling himself away from the growling, salivating Matt, Duncan shifts briefly into his human form and grabs at the rope, pulling himself up and away just as Matt lunges at him, jaws wide open. Duncan escape by inches and hauls himself up the rope and out of the pit.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as he reaches the top.

  He nods, out of breath and bleeding. He looks at me with something like gratitude.

  We look back down into the pit, in time to see Matt starting to climb the walls, inching his way up with his claws.

  “That's a problem,” Duncan says.

  “You should have left them both down there,” Olivia sneers at me.

  “Get out of here,” Duncan says, his eyes fixed on Matt.

  “You should listen to him,” I say to Olivia.

  “Both of you,” Duncan says, turning to me. “I need you both to get out of here. I have to seal this place up”.

  I glance down the pit and see that Matt is almost halfway up.

  “What are you going to do?” Olivia asks.

  Without replying, Duncan walks a few steps away and shifts into his wolf form. Then he takes a run-up and charges into the wall of the stone chamber, smashing through and bringing part of the ceiling crashing down. He returns and does the same to another section of wall, seemingly using all his strength to destroy the entire structure. Above us, the stone ceiling starts to shift, the remaining walls no longer able to support its weight.

  Olivia grabs my arm and pulls me away, and we get out of the chamber, turning to look back as Duncan charges down more of the wall. Eventually we hear a colossal creaking sound, just as Matt reaches the top of the pit. But the walls are still just about holding the ceiling up, and Matt is almost out of the pit. Duncan runs at another part of the wall and smashes through, and finally the ceiling starts to come down. As the stones fall, Duncan turns and leaps straight across the pit and runs out towards us just as the entire ceiling of the chamber collapses. As Olivia and I watch, Matt finally starts to haul himself out of the pit just as the ceiling comes down crushing him back down. Although the sound of the falling stones is deafening, somewhere in that noise I'm sure I hear a scream, and it's not a wolf's voice... It sounds like Matt.

  I turn to Olivia and I can see by the look on her face that she heard it too. “We should get out of here,” she says coldly. “This tunnel isn't safe”.

  She turns to leave, ignoring Duncan. I help him up and the three of us start to make our way out, but Duncan is limping badly and can't keep up. I can barely support his weight, and we're moving so slowly I'm not sure we'll ever be able to get out of here.

  “Help us!” I shout to Olivia.

  She turns to look at us. “I'm not helping a wolf,” she says, before running on ahead.

  All around us, parts of the stone wall are crumbling. By destroying the chamber, Duncan has clearly damaged the structural integrity of the whole underground complex.

  “You should leave me here,” Duncan says, sounding weak.

  I ignore him, focusing on supporting him as we continue to make our way along the tunnel. Finally we emerge in another section, where the walls seem stronger. Behind us, there's a huge crashing sound as more of the original chamber falls in on itself. I turn to look back.

  “Matt...” I say.

  “Buried,” says Olivia, who has stopped beside us. She turns to me, and for a moment it looks almost as if she's holding back tears. “The wolf is back in the pit. And this time he won't be getting out”.

  There's another loud creaking sound as the stone walls continue to struggle to keep the roof up.

  “We're still not safe,” Olivia says. “Come on”.

  And with that, we struggle onwards, Olivia leading the way as I support Duncan and we head for safety. As we reach the end of the tunnel, I glance backwards just in time to see another part of the roof collapse. Thousands of tonnes of rock falling into the chamber. I don't see how Matt is ever going to get out of there. Ever.

  14.

  My name is Matt DiMera and I exist only deep inside another creature. Suspended here inside his mind, I can only watch the torment and rage that drives him. All around me, th
e energy of his agony is palpable, tangible. I can hear him roaring with frustration, I can feel the burning desire for revenge that drives him to struggle every second against the rocks that hold him – us – down. But I can also feel the impotence of his force, the impossible fury that he knows will get him nowhere.

  Sometimes, when his rage ebbs a little, I feel that I could take control back, that I could take hold of this body of ours and make it mine once again. But that would only last for a moment, and then the beast would return. The truth is, my body has become lost to the beast, and all I can do is remain in here, lost in his mind, a memory that sometimes flits across his mind as he struggles for life.

  I used to believe that my name was Matt DiMera, that I was 35 years old and that I was a member of the Greystone organisation. I now realise that much of my previous life was a fantasy that I created in order to prevent myself from ever fully understanding what I truly am. I couldn't acknowledge my inner wolf, the fact that I am only partly human. So I hid, and I pretended to be something that I could never be. It was a wretched, cruel existence that I foolishly hoped would last forever. I was, for many years, what I pretended to be. But now I am what I really am.

  The beast continues to fight, of course. He will never rest. Even now, he scrambles through the rock, desperately trying to escape. He gets nowhere. His rage and his fury drive him onwards, an animal possessed by the desire to reclaim life. He and I are separate creatures in a way. I will let him keep the body, and I will keep the mind. I will remain suspended here, watching as the beast struggles. Let him take all the pain. He is the agony, the brute force; and I am the mind that tries to make order out of all this chaos. Together, we are the wolf in the pit, and we will remain here like this for eternity.

  15.

  “Four years,” says Olivia, looking around the office later once we've got back to safety. “Four years and I never realised Matt was a...” She can't say the word, but she looks at Duncan. “I never realised he was one of you”.

  “Neither did he,” says Duncan calmly. “All those centuries spent in the pit must have driven him insane. The only way he could function was to split her personality in two. Each half denied that the other half existed”.

  With slightly red, tear-stained eyes, Olivia turns to me. “He had no idea,” she says, clearly still in shock. “He was hunting that wolf for so long, and he had no idea he was really hunting himself”.

  I stare at her, but I don't know what to say. All I can think about is the fact that Matt is still down there, still trapped in the pit, still alive. Probably still trying to claw his way out, still raging with anger far beneath the streets of London. But still guarding the pit, and the throne. Still doing his job.

  “If it's any consolation,” Duncan says, “I'd imagine that the human side, the Matt DiMera side, is long gone. In his madness, he'll remain in his wolf form and he'll probably never shift back to human again”.

  “And if he does?” Olivia asks, wiping away a tear. “What if he manages to get out again?”

  “He won't,” Duncan says.

  “But what if -”

  “He won't,” Duncan says again, more firmly. We stand in silence for a moment. “I'll go back and check every few years, just to make sure,” he says eventually. “Now that I know what's happening down there, I can keep an eye on things. God knows, someone has to”.

  Olivia looks away, then she grabs a laptop and opens it. “I have to write up a report,” she says, trying to sound like she's fine and that she's getting back to work. “There needs to be a file on this, and I don't suppose anyone else wants to do it, do they?”

  “Are you going to be okay here?” I ask.

  “Why?” she replies, looking at me coldly. “Because I didn't notice that my colleague was actually a monster? You think I might be too emotional to work? Thanks, but I'm more professional than that”.

  “He wasn't a monster,” Duncan says.

  “He thought all werewolves are monsters,” Olivia spits back at him. “I can't say that I disagree”.

  She starts opening programs on the laptop.

  “Is there anything you need?” I ask.

  No reply. She just stares at the screen. I turn to Duncan, and we both seem to realise that it's time to go. We turn and head out, leaving Olivia alone in her little underground office, surrounded by books and machines, trying to make sense of everything that has happened to her.

  As we walk away through the deserted South London streets, Duncan and I barely say anything. There doesn't seem to be anything to say. Last time he killed someone, at least we knew that there was no more suffering. This time, we know that Matt is buried alive in that pit, that because he's a werewolf he'll be able to live for centuries without food. We also know that Olivia is left alone, struggling to understand how this all happened. Eventually Duncan and I get to the banks of the Thames. It's a cold, grey day with a high wind that seems to be blowing the seagulls off course.

  “Can't you go back and kill Matt?” I ask. “It'd be more humane to just put him out of his misery”.

  Duncan shakes his head. “There always has to be a wolf in the pit. To guard the throne room”.

  “That's -” I stare at him. “That's just superstitious nonsense. No-one's looking for that fucking throne room”.

  He smiles. “I'm not going to take lessons in superstitious nonsense from a human. Your whole society is based on superstitious nonsense or one type of another”.

  “Thanks,” I say, staring out at the river as a harsh gust of wind ripples the water.

  “If it's any consolation,” Duncan says, “I used to think all humans were miserable wretches. Worthless. Stupid creatures devoid of courage or soul”.

  “And now?” I ask.

  “Now...” He pauses. “Not all of them. Just most of them”.

  I narrow my eyes for a moment, looking at the horizon, then I turn to him. “Thanks again,” I say, but I suddenly realise that he's not there any more. Looking around, I see a familiar wolf trotting away. “Hey!” I shout after him. “Will I see you again?”

  He stops and turns, and for a moment we make eye contact and I get the feeling that, yes, I'll be seeing him again, even if I have no control over when that might be. For a moment, it occurs to me to follow him, and I take a step towards him. But, as if he somehow read my mind, he turns and runs off and I realise there's no point trying to chase him. I don't know where he's going, but it looks like he's in a hurry to get there, and I don't think he wants company. I guess he has to get back to his master, whoever that might be. One of these days, I'll find out...

  Sighing, I turn back to look at the river just as the first drops of rain start to fall. Great. I'm miles from nowhere, and I don't have any money for the Tube. I guess I've got a long walk ahead of me, and somehow I doubt I can go back to the hotel. Okay. I set off, mentally running through the huge list of things I have to do. Job one: find somewhere to live. Job two: get a better job. Job three: come back to see Olivia some time. I want to find out a little more about these Greystone people. When I arrived in London, I didn't feel like I belonged here. Now I feel I have things a little more under control.

  Epilogue

  Rossiter lights another cigar and places it between his lips, taking a long drag as he stares at me.

  “You'd better show some fucking initiative tonight,” he says, his voice barely audible above the thumping music and the baying of the crowd. “I'm in no mood to piss about”.

  I nod. “Don't worry,” I say, turning to look at the crowd who are all waiting for the first girl to take to the stage. “I'll be fine”. I glance back at Rossiter. “You love me really,” I say, smiling.

  I work my way through the crowd, taking a few orders from various tables until, finally, I find myself in the corner facing Barry Southern. Oh great, my old pal, the guy who doesn't think he has to pay for his drinks. Once again, he has one hand stuffed down the front of his trousers.

  “Whisky!” he shouts at me, keepin
g his eyes fixed on the stage just as the first girl emerges and the crowd roars.

  I head back to the bar and collect the various drinks for the customers. I can see that Rossiter is watching me, waiting for me to fuck up. I carry the drinks though the crowd and hand them out to all the customers, until finally I'm at Barry Southern's table with a double whisky on my tray.

  “Six pounds,” I say to him.

  “I'll pay later,” he says, his eyes fixed on the stage, his hand moving disgustingly inside his trousers.

  “You have to pay now,” I say.

  “I'll pay later,” he says, then he mutters something under his breath: “Fucking whore”.

  I stare at him for a moment. Then, almost without planning it, I lean down and whisper in his ear. “If you don't give me the money right now,” I say calmly, “I'll rip your fucking dick off”. And with that, I shove my hand down the front of his trousers, grabbing hold if his semi-hard cock. “Money,” I say. “Now”.

  He stares at me, then he hurriedly pulls a £10 note from his pocket and hands it to me.

  “I'll keep the change,” I say, and just as I let go of his cock, he cums in my hand. I look at the slimy white mess on my fingers. “Thanks,” I say, then I wipe my hand on the shoulder of his jacket. I pocket the £10 and return to the bar, where Rossiter is smiling.