Silver Magi 1

by D. Levesque

  Putting the box on the night table, I begin to take stuff out and place it on the bed. Once that is all done, I read over the instructions. John said I need to sedate the wolf every 30 minutes. Fuck! I open the needles and make four more of them. Now I have five in readiness, which I lay on the night table within easy reach. Taking out my smartphone, I set a timer for twenty minutes since I am sure it’s been ten already. Then I do what my uncle described in his instructions. Removing my shirt from the wolf it sticks a bit to the wound, but I remember I have water. I open the bottle and slowly pour some on it, which releases it. I drop the bloody shirt on the towel on the floor.

  Then I can see the wound. It’s nasty looking. It’s all matted with blood, and I can tell it’s inflamed. Putting on a pair of gloves, I put my hand next to the wound, and it’s hot to the touch. Not good. Shit, I should have asked my uncle for antibiotics. Too late for that now. Reaching over, I grab the forceps and take a deep breath. If this wolf wakes up when I am doing this, I am dead. I slowly insert them into the wound, trying to find the bullet. I can feel the sweat on my forehead, and I know it’s not the house since I have the A/C on. After what feels like minutes of digging, I finally hit something. I move it around, and I get an idea of the location and size of it. Yeah, that’s about the right size for a bullet.

  Finally, I pull the fucker out. Thank God. Though, there’s not much I can do if the wolf has liquid in its lungs. Holding up the bullet, I look at it. Odd, it’s not lead like most slugs I see on TV, this one is a round silver ball. Someone had money to spend on fancy bullets. I drop the bullet on the towel on the floor, and abruptly, my alarm scares the crap out of me. Without thinking, I grab a syringe and jab it into the wolf and push the plunger down. Just as I’m finished, I hear a low growl which is cut off as it passes out again. Shit! That was close. Removing one glove, I turn off my timer, and I reset it for 20 minutes this time. I am not doing this thirty minutes shit this time.

  Grabbing another glove, I put it on and grab the needle and thread. At least this I know how to do. I usually repair the tears in my clothes, so I know how to do it. Once the thread is ready with the needle, I turn towards the wolf and the wound. Looking at it, what I see freaks me right the fuck out. The injury is slowly closing over itself. It’s slow, but I can see it happening. What the hell is going on? I also see that the wolf is coming around. Now I am freaking out. So I do the only thing that comes to mind. I grab two syringes, take the caps off with my teeth, and plunge both of them into the wolf, pushing down on the plungers. Within ten seconds, the wolf is out again.

  This kind of shit should not be happening! I open the door and close it as fast as I can. Shit, I need to get out of here, or that wolf will be after me. And something tells me that the door won’t help. Shit, my phone! I open the door again, run in, and grab my phone. But before I can make it across the room to the door again, the wolf has sprung up from the bed and is now blocking the door with its teeth bared. Fuck, that thing should be out cold for over an hour with the drugs I gave it. Looking around for a weapon to use, I don’t see one. I look at the wolf, and it’s pissed. I can tell. Its hackles are up, and its stance is one I have seen in movies, when the wolf is about to pounce on their prey and kill it.

  Then it does something unexpected. It growls again, but what comes out is a deep voice that I can tell is very much female.

  “What have you done to me!” it growls menacingly.

  And then it takes a step towards me. But it stops, shakes its head, and looks at me again. The next words stop me dead in my tracks.

  “Help me, please?” it asks me pleadingly. And then it passes out on the floor in a heap.

  I just stare at the wolf that is now passed out on my floor, who I am pretty sure was about to take my life, and now has somehow spoken to me and asked me to help them.

  “What?!?!”

  Chapter Three

  In total confusion, I stare at the wolf on the floor in front of my door. A wolf who just talked to me. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy, and I misheard? Shaking my head, I move past the unconscious wolf and close the door on the way out. I stand outside the door and lean against it. I must be going crazy. Maybe I am more tired than I thought. I ran away from two guys who tried to kill me. Tracked a wolf who got shot saving me from one of them, and then I slaughtered that one. Then I had to find the wolf, haul it back to my office, and carry it into my car. Yeah, I must be stressed out and just tired.

  Moving away from the door, I head downstairs and into the kitchen. I open the fridge and see that I have six beers left, and I take out two of them. Grabbing them, I head to the couch in the living room. Not bothering to turn on the TV, I just sit back with my head hanging over the back of the sofa. Thinking back on what happened tonight, I am not sure if I should call the cops or not. I am not sure they would believe me. I mean fuck; I have a talking wolf, I laugh to myself.

  Putting one of the beers on the table in front of me, I open the other and take a long sip. Its cold nectar goes down my throat like I was dying of thirst. Before I know it, the first bottle is empty. I put the empty one on the table and grab the other one and open it. This one, I sip much slower. My brain finally feels like it’s shutting off. Once I am finished drinking the second beer, I get up, grab the empties, and head to the kitchen. I put the empties on the counter and grab two more from the fridge. Heading back to the living room again, I tell Google to play my playlist.

  Sitting down again, I open the first, or what, third beer? As I take slow sips again, I try to figure out what the hell is going on. First, I get a text message that I need to run away. I thought it was a scam, so I ignored it. Then, being frustrated because of my manager and the interview for the job I wanted, my manager being a dick, the line of code that was pissing me off, and then that text? It was too much, so I went for a run to relax. But instead, I was shot at, almost killed. Then I had a wolf, not a dog, come out of nowhere and kill one man in front of me. Then, the wolf gets shot, and just as I am about to get shot myself, I go to this dreamland and meet another wolf, who is fucking huge by the way, and I am told I should not be there yet and somehow get sent away back into my own body?

  But then, I somehow can move across ten feet of ground instantaneously, but also move back to the second thug, literally instantly again, grab his hand with the gun in it, crush both his hands and his pistol grip. When I go to punch him out, instead, I end up popping his head off. Yeah, all in a day’s work. Shit, I can feel myself starting to shake. I think the shock is about to kick in. Grabbing my beer, I drink it down fast. Then I open the other, and I do the same with that one. Once the second one is done, I let out a long and loud burp. The shakes subside for now. But I know they will come back. Getting up, I head to the kitchen with both empties and place them on the counter with the other bottles.

  Opening the fridge, I grab the last two, almost losing my balance. Crap, I am getting drunk. But that’s fine. I am having a day that kind of says I need to get drunk. Closing the fridge after I get my balance back, I head upstairs to my room. I see that the spare room door is closed. Good, that means the wolf isn’t getting out. Not unless it can chew through a door or it has opposable thumbs. Going to my room, I leave the light on and put both bottles on the nightstand next to my bed. I get undressed and don’t even bother showering. I just sit in bed, facing the wall, and drink my fifth beer without tasting it. I notice that it’s empty and that the room is spinning. Putting that one down, I grab the last one, but the room is spinning really bad now. As I go to take a sip, a very female hand stops the bottle. Looking up, I drunkenly see a beautiful woman who is tall and slim with very nice, large breasts. I know they are large because she is standing in front of me, naked.

  “I think you have had enough, Brandon. I think it’s time for you to sleep, don’t you think?”

  Looking at her stupidly, I just nod, yes. Maybe even freaked out, I should be worried, but honestly, all I feel is drunk and numb. Then I feel a pinprick on m
y arm. Looking down, trying to focus, I see she has one syringe from the night table embedded in my arm. Oh shit.

  “Sorry, Brandon, but you need to sleep now,” I hear her say as I slowly fade into slumber.

  Slowly I come back to the land of the living. My head is pounding as if I had just had a boxing match, and I was the punching bag. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I look around, and I am in my bed alone. Of course I am alone? Who else would be here? Damn, that was one hell of a dream. I remember getting drunk because of the wolf. That thought wakes me up fully. The wolf! There was something else, but that was most likely part of the dream, something about a naked woman. I smile at the memory of that. Damn, she was a hot dream. Getting up, I see that I am naked. Guess I at least remembered to take my clothes off last night. I look on the floor for them, but they are gone. Hm. I guess I put them in the hamper in the closet. Shrugging, I take another pair of track pants, a t-shirt, underwear, and socks out of the dresser and put them on the bed. Looking at the clock, I see it’s about 11 am.

  First things first, I need a shower. I was too tired, stressed, and drunk to take one last night. I should check on the wolf, but I have heard nothing, so I assume it’s fine, or dead. Sighing, I turn on the water for the shower. Once it’s at the temperature I like, I get in and wash. Thinking about last night while I am shampooing my hair, I remember how the wolf at the end almost attacked me. The talking part must have been my head playing tricks on me. There is no way wolves talk. Once I am done and clean, I step out of the shower and grab a towel and dry off.

  I need to check on the wolf, though. Maybe get it a bowl of water and some food too. I head back into the bedroom from the ensuite bathroom, and I get dressed in the clothes I took out. Once that’s done, I go back into the bathroom, brush my teeth, and brush out my long hair. I need a cut again soon, but I hate cutting it. Cracking my bedroom door to make sure the wolf didn’t escape, I see that the spare room door is closed. Good. It must still be in there.

  Heading downstairs, I stop in the kitchen and clean up the mess of bottles I had left out. Odd, I didn’t see the bottles I brought upstairs last night on my night table. I must have brought them down before I passed out. Turning over to the coffee machine, I turn it on to heat the water inside. I grab a coffee pod of a pleasant blend I have been enjoying lately. Years ago, I found out that I was too lazy to bother making a pot, so pods it became. Popping it into the machine, I grab a cup, place it under, and close the coffee machine and press the button for a large coffee mug.

  The smell that now permeates the kitchen is one I always enjoy. Opening the fridge door, I grab the coffee cream. Once the machine sputters to tell me it’s almost done, I open the machine, pop the pod out and throw it in the garbage. I grabbed the cup, put in a bit of cream, and put the cream back into the fridge. Taking a slow sip, I can feel my brain waking up. I know it doesn’t work that way, but damn, don’t talk to me before I have my coffee in the morning. Or, if you do, don’t expect the wisdom of the ages. I sit at the kitchen table with my cup and contemplate what happened last night. I don’t know if I should call the cops. I need to go to work tonight, though.

  Once I’m done drinking my coffee, I put the mug into the sink. I open the cupboard and grab a large plastic bowl, filling it with icy water. I might as well get this over and done with, I sigh. If it’s dead, I will have to figure a way to dispose of it. Heading up the stairs, I stop halfway and try to listen. I hear nothing. Going the rest of the way up, I listen again—still nothing. Slowly tiptoeing to the spare room door, I put my ear against the door and try to hear through it. It’s quiet. Not sure what I want, a dead wolf or a live one. I put the bowl of water on the floor next to the door, in case I need to close the door fast, and I need both my hands. I put my hand on the door handle and slowly try to turn it, making no noise.

  Once I have the handle turned all the way, I slowly open the door, holding the door handle tight in case I need to slam it shut. Once the door is opened a crack, I look in and see nothing on the bed. Shit, it must be on the floor. Opening the door a little more, I look around on the floor and still nothing. Fuck, did it crawl under the bed? I sigh, because now I need to open the door much wider to check, and that means I need to lower myself on the floor to look under the bed in question. Goddammit. I don’t need this shit this early in the morning.

  Letting go of the door handle, I slowly bring myself down onto the floor, but stay near the door so that I can look under the bed. There is enough light to see under, but there isn’t anything there. What the fuck? Going further into the room, I look around. I can see the blood on the comforter, the towel on the floor with the bloody shirt. But no fucking wolf. Think Brandon. They don’t just get up and go. The door was closed, so it couldn’t have just opened the door, closed it, and left. Going around the room, I check everywhere, including the closet. And for some odd reason, I open the drawer to the night table. Idiot, it will not go into a drawer. Where the hell did it go?

  I pick up the bloody shirt by its edges, and the bullet falls out with a thud onto the wooden floor. I bend over and pick it up, and I wipe some dried blood off the bullet. Yeah, some folks have way too much money. It’s for sure silver and not lead. Pocketing it, I put the shirt back onto the towel, pick it up, and put that towel on the comforter and roll it up into a ball. Grabbing the entire thing, I look on the bed and see that thank God, it had not gone through to the sheets. Heading downstairs to the laundry room on the first floor next to the garage's exit, I put the stuff in the washing machine, put in tons of laundry soap and set it for extra hot, large cycle, and turn it on.

  Now, where the fuck did that wolf go? Heading back into the kitchen, I try to reason this out. I check the back door, and it’s still locked. Heading to the front door, I check it. It’s also locked. This makes no freaking sense! I know I brought home a wounded wolf. I have the damn bloody towel and comforter to prove it. Not to mention the damn silver bullet I took out of it. Reaching into my pocket, I hold it up. Yup, it’s real. Going upstairs again, I check my room to make sure it didn’t somehow get into my bedroom. I look under the bed, and there isn’t a wolf there. Then I notice my phone on my night table, and the notification indicator is blinking blue. Picking up the phone, there is a text message from my manager.

  Brandon, don’t come into work for the next couple of days. Something odd happened here. They found a large SUV abandoned in the front of our building, and then they found dead bodies in the back in the woods. It’s under investigation. I will message the team when everyone can come back.

  Shit. So the deaths were real then. I answer him back.

  Sounds good. I am still not feeling too well, so I was going to take a couple of days off. Let me know when I can go in.

  So I have checked the entire house. The only spot I didn’t check was the garage. Heading back down, I head back through the laundry room to the garage door. I open the door and just stare.

  “Where the fuck is my car!” I scream at the empty garage.

  Opening the garage door manually, I stand in my driveway and look around, like I will somehow find it down the road miraculously. Clenching my fists, I walk back into the garage and close it. Heading back into the house, I go into the living room and sit there trying to figure out what the fuck is happening to my life right now. These last twenty-four hours are just getting weirder and weirder. Remembering that odd message I received on my phone before my run, I go into my history and unblock it and reread the message once more.

  You don’t know me, but you need to leave the building you are in right now. Your life is in danger! You need to go as far as you can from there. Seriously, someone is on the way to kill you, Brandon. Please, you need to listen.

  Deciding to see if I get a response, I message them back.

  I don’t know who you are. But what the hell is going on, and where the fuck is my car?

  Not expecting a response, I put my phone in my pocket and head into the kitchen to grab a beer. Opening the fri
dge, I see there aren’t any. Right, I drank all six last night. So instead, I grab a small tumbler glass, add two ice cubes from the freezer and head back into the living room. I head towards the shelving I have there and grab a bottle of the quality stuff. With the Canadian Club in my hand now, I pour a good two shots worth and put the bottle back. I sit back down on the couch and take a large sip of the liquid. It goes down burning, but smooth. Just as I finish taking a sip, my phone vibrates in my pocket. As I pull it out, the bullet comes with it. I put the bullet on the table and check my phone. I see it’s a response from this unknown person.

  I don’t know what you mean by where the fuck is my car, but I am glad to hear you are all right and got away. You need to stay away from work right now. At least they don’t know where you live.

  They don’t know where I live? Who the hell is this “they” person they are talking about? The thug mentioned something about the Organization. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  WTF is going on? 2 men died, and they almost killed me. I had some dog save me, which I find out is a wolf. It got injured, and I brought it home to save it, and now it’s gone. And my damn car is gone too!

  I wait to see what they write back, but I don’t hear a response for over ten minutes. Shit, just great. I freaking scared them away. They probably think I am some kind of crazy, talking about wolves and dead men. By this time, my glass is empty. Just as I am about to get up to get another, my phone vibrates.

  Did you say you had a wolf that got injured, Brandon?

  Yes. But it was odd. They shot it with a bullet with a silver bullet that I took out of it.