Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  The bear is as furious as I am, yowling in agony at the removal of a sizable chunk of its own skin, reaches up, catching my hind leg with its claws, digging in brutally, and throws me clean across the forest floor so I body slap a fallen log side on with the force and velocity of a cannon ball. Ribs cracking under the assault of collision, spiking, and stabbing into my lung, crushing, crunching, and holy hell balls, I gasp out with a moment of agony that renders me unable to make an actual sound. Air leaking out and failing me, because that time it hurt worse than turning for the first time, stunned with the brutality, and I’m going to rip that mother fucker’s god damn throat out.

  Somehow, I manage to inhale a breath so my lungs inflate, and push my shattered fractured bones back together enough to heal again, but that internal energy I could feel building, suddenly encases me fully with every step it takes towards me. My anger knows no bounds anymore, and I focus a rage comparable to the fiery depths of hell right at that monstrous asshat. It’s around me, shrouding me, like a veil I can almost see, translucent, yet it’s tingling my skin, urging me to wrap it up and haul it in. Feed on it and use it. I can’t explain it, but it’s like the air becomes a thin fabric of real touchable something that I want to grab and take in my hands.

  The bear moves in at me, growling, and wailing high into the sky with a blood curling anger that probably translates to ‘die bitch’, and I struggle to get up, still recovering , still dazed, with this milky, not quite clear, air invading my space. Without understanding the why, not questioning where the idea comes from, but really having a second of panic action as he makes a final death lunge at me, I grab it from midair, surprised to get a physical handful, like a hard hot bowling ball in my palm, and throw it at the bear impulsively.

  I don’t know what I thought I would achieve and honestly, I didn’t have time to ponder either the science or the stupidity, but I throw air at a bear in a bid to save my own hide. Then groan as logic slaps me in the head for being an idiot.

  Like something out of a Hollywood movie though, I watch in wide eyed disbelief, as the bear is hit with an almost invisible force that ripples the air around it, sending the milky veil into shimmering, flowing movement, like mesmerizing water after a rock is thrown in. It makes its body indent crazily, like I just rammed it with a truck at crazy speed, and for a milli-second, time slows down as I take this all in. It’s thrown back more than three times the distance it threw me, flying high in an arc through the clearing and lands with a shuddering thud on the floor below the tree line spectacularly. I swear, the ground quakes with the force and reverberates through my healing body dully, bringing a calm to the forest that was not there before. Complete silence as everything stops, and all of nature pauses to say, ‘what in the hell was that?’.

  The air pulsates around it silently, the veil moving over and away like I blew a candle and the smoke disperses in the waves of breath into nothingness. Disappearing like it never was, and I’m as shocked as the damn bear at what I just did, sitting stupefied, watching in complete disbelief. Panting, with an erratic heartbeat, hunched up in my poised pose but dumbstruck and blinking at it.

  It seems stunned for a moment, rolls, and crawls to its trembling legs, blinking my way, and then turns and takes off at a ridiculously slow speed, no longer willing to combat whatever I just did. It’s not recovered though, it’s clumsy, and swaying, and crashing into the undergrowth.

  It doesn’t get very far, as I watch from my perched semi kneeling position. It’s staggering sideways, then slowing to a bumbling uncoordinated mess of a stop, falls over its own feet and slumps face down on the ground. It’s like it’s drunk and as it lets out a long noisy groaning exhale, I pull myself to my feet, and watch as it falls completely silent.

  I can hear a heartbeat in the air around us, so suddenly it makes me jump; slow, labored, one, two more, and stop. I’m shocked that it was so pitch clear while so far away. It couldn’t have been its heartbeat, surely? It had to be mine, but I can’t hear it anymore, and I check my pulse to be sure I’m not actually dead and already crossed over to the other side. Nope, still beating as I press my clawed paw to my breast and snort out a thankful half growl.

  I blow out my lungful of air and give myself a few seconds to fully heal every single tiny injury it inflicted, stretching out my ribs to be sure. I stay in wolf form and slowly edge forward to see if it’s still alive, trying to recover my wits, and focus for a second attack. Surprised to see my fire, and food, was free from our thrashing around and still smoking away gently, untouched. It smells pretty good too, and my mouth waters with how hungry this has suddenly made me. Weird.

  My bag is kicked to one side, but nothing looks ripped, and I catch sight of the t-shirt still sticking out, bringing a sense of calm to my internal rage, which had still been simmering away all on its own. I pass it and come up at the bear from the side, veering left cautiously, and keeping my distance in case this is a ploy to get me close.

  The bear has its eyes wide open, glassy, its tongue hanging from an open mouth, framed with teeth, eliciting no breath, and blood streams from both nostrils. It’s vacant, staring at nothing, and I realise whatever I did, it messed the bear up inside, and it’s dead. I can tell without touching it that it’s life force and aura is completely gone. My senses tuning in and finding nothing.

  I did that. With whatever I threw that I couldn’t see, I killed the bear.

  I don’t know whether to feel relieved, proud, or devastated by the fact I did that, alone. That I managed to pull some weird power out of my gut and take down a bear, with nothing more than air. My heart constricts, my gut twists, and I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to throw up as human emotion kicks in and slight shock takes over. I begin to tremble, heart bouncing against my chest wall, mind racing, over the fact I literally just had my second ever, real full on battle, with something capable of killing me and this time, I didn’t almost die at his hands. Umm paws. I didn’t need Colton to save me either. He’d be proud, not that it matters, or that I care of what he thinks anyway.

  I push my paws out in front of me, moving to stand on my hind legs and stare at them, unsure how to feel about it. Really just gawping at these strange clawed, fur covered, rather blood-soaked weapons of destruction I never knew I possessed. I mean, of course, I knew I had paws, but these ones, they did something weirdly special that I can’t explain. They also look… whiter?!?! Under the mess, and grime, and red stains, but maybe I never really paid attention to how pale they were before. I was sure they were greyer when I first turned.

  I try to muster that sensation again, that physical veil thing that I could touch, and hold, and see, but nothing happens, no matter how many weird grunts and noises and odd faces I pull, and I shake my hands away, feeling stupid for not knowing how to control something I can clearly do. My legs begin to shake, and I can already feel my energy waning and signaling I’ll return to human form soon if I don’t hurry up. I don’t know if I would be able to do this as a person, and I’m not ready to forget it already.

  I forget the bear, forget the battle, the shock, the pride, and walk back to the clearing, extending my hands and try to grasp at air again, with no avail. So focused on this now that nothing else registers in my brain about what just went down.

  Whatever that was, I have to figure out how to do it at will. I have to understand how to conjure it and make it appear like that, so I know how to use it again, or hone it. Like the day I shattered everything in the house… it just happened when I got mad and…. I got mad!

  The thought hits me like a slap in the face, as my brain clicks into place, and I recall just how crazy angry with Colton I was right before I managed to do that. Just like I was a mass of seething fire, sweat, and despise, with this idiot grizzly. That has to be the key between what I did at the house, and now this.

  I don’t think it was the same as this though, and he proved it was some sort of absorption gift, especially when he tested himself against it. I definitely did not h
ave Colton’s strength, speed, and power this time, or else the bear would have been toast in seconds. I saw what he did to the vampire that night. So I did absorb and deflect his own gifts. This isn’t that this is something else, unless that bear had weird powers and was some sort of shapeshifter and not a regular black bear at all.

  I glance back at its lifeless form, a hint of apprehension and circling questions and shake my head, removing that doubt completely. Shifters would revert to person after death, and it’s still a pretty sizeable black fur rug over there. Creating a dark mass against the trees.

  I felt anger, and rage, and instead of fear, I wanted to exert my dominance. I instinctively protected myself with something I conjured up, and I haven’t come in contact with anything like this that I can ever recall. Not recent enough to absorb anyway, and I know it wouldn’t have stayed with me. Absorption doesn’t last, like it hasn’t with Colton’s gifts.

  I look down at my hands once more, weighing it up in my mind and realize that it’s exactly how I did it. Raging with Colton, like I was with the bear, so it must be the source to harnessing it. I need to learn to use my rage to control my gift. Not that it will be hard to find a reason to be mad, I just need to remember the pain of four days after leaving, and bingo, I could fuel rage for an eternity while cursing his ‘puta skanky ass’ name.

  If I leave the self-pity aside and remind myself that on the full moon a few days after that, I felt no new agony… so no new betrayal, then I know the answer. He must have marked her before the turning ceremony, once he was sure I was long gone. Out of sight, out of mind. He didn’t even wait.

  I sat up that whole night waiting and watching the moon and felt nothing. Slimy dog.

  It ignites rage all right, but I don’t know what to do with it. I stare at my limp hands, slowly turning back to human, failing to conjure the milky mist and give up. I guess without something to direct the rage, or have something threatening me in some way, then I have no idea how to conjure it up properly. Maybe if Colton was standing in front of me ….

  My head falls back as I sigh up at the sky and exhale heavily. Nakedly standing in the wood, and brain jumps back to reality. I have an opportunity presenting itself if I put gifts and rage aside. I just killed a bear, a big one, and his fur shouldn’t be wasted when I’m trying to make rural survival more bearable. I was aching for some home comforts, and a soft bed… that fat chunky ass has a perfectly thick piece of warmth going to waste now. I need to remember what my father told me about off grid survival. that it’s essential to utilize everything you can at any given opportunity.

  I turn my attention back to the beast, a sliver of guilt finally cutting into my heart a tad painfully, reminding me I am in fact human, as I watch its now still, pathetic, pose and try not to fall back into weak girl with too much empathy. I’ve had to do this a lot these past days when hunting my own food and I need to accept that life can be cruel, and in nature, it’s eat or be eaten. I ignore the growing knot in my heart and chest, push away the thoughts, and find that inner grit.

  I pull out my pocketknife from my backpack and flip out the knife section, gleaming in the sun hitting the clearing and shining back at me. I’ve been using this to skin rabbits and such for days, but its small and not the sharpest, even though I have tried to use flint rocks to keep it so. It will take a month to skin that damn bear.

  I extend my hand, stretch it out, and turn it alone to my wolf paw. Lycanthrope can use their paws like hands, or feet, and I extend my claws fully, measuring up mentally the size and sharpness, knowing really, I have the only tools I need right here. I don’t bother dressing, as I’m filthy after that little battle and about to be more so. Dried blood from my own now healed body, and the bears wounds, covers my skin in disgusting patterns and smear marks. I probably look as feral as this makes me feel. I’ll need to bathe before dressing, and this is going to get messy.

  I cover the ground between us and close the gap with the bear, extending my claws fully, with my mind set on a stomach-churning task. Leaning in to salvage what fur I can and maybe a trophy claw, as a reminder that I just earned my first warrior stripe. I push down the urge to vomit, suck up the sudden surge of emotion that makes me feel slightly vulnerable, as I stand over my kill and survey what I’m about to do. I don’t even know if bear meat tastes good, it might when cooked, and I guess I’m about to find out.

  It’s the first day in the last eleven, that the sadness and hopelessness abates, and I feel like I might just learn how to get through this in one piece with a little more resolve than the last two weeks. I might learn how to grow, how to be strong if I give myself more time and some faith. If I can take on a bear, maybe, I can take on something paler, faster, deadlier, with a blood lust should I happen upon one.

  I need to figure out how to unleash my potential, and for the first time, I wonder if Colton saw it before I did. That he could see through what everyone else did and caught a hint of a spark when he got closer to me. Maybe I am special.

  Wolves can’t throw air.

  Change of Direction

  I lay on the make shift fur bed I made myself last night, resting on my stomach lazily with a good size of the pelt over the top of me, hands crossed under my chin as I watch the early morning birds peck at the scraps I left on my cooking stone. Dancing around and merrily, eating what little I left behind. The fire has long smoldered out and everything around me is dewy with early morning moisture. Everything still, and peaceful, in the morning glow of a newly rising sun, and oddly still. I made it through another night, and I’m still here, waking with a better mood with every day this pans out.

  I didn’t find a cave or shelter last night, so curled up in the bear pelt, that took me a full four days to scrape and clean and dry out in the sun on the hottest rocks I could find. I’m no expert in tanning, or preserving pelts, but it works enough, even if it’s a bit stiff and smelly, and it’s worth lugging with me every day, despite the added bulk and weight. I sliced it into four manageable sizes for rolling and binding on my back, two for under me at night, spread out like a thin mattress with some comfort, one rolls up as a make shift pillow, be it a stiff one, and is currently off to one side, and the largest piece I flip fur down and lay over me as a weatherproof blanket, covering on top of the single blanket I carry with me. It keeps me dry anyway, because I don’t need the warmth, but I do like the coziness it provides me, even in caves. It gives me a sense of security, and not feeling as exposed when caught in a black surround made of slightly rough fur.

  I’ve been sleeping a little better since that battle. I don’t know if it’s because I learned something about my own strength, and it boosted my confidence, or if it was just having some slight comfort to use as bedding, and the knowledge I did this all by myself, that helps me sleep a little easier. My senses are not as unstable and panic wired lately, and I feel less on edge.

  I mean, I still keep one eye open at all times and stay alert, but I’m not as nervy as I was, and I don’t feel quite so bereft in terms of low mood. I feel capable, like I’ve gotten through the worst and I know I can do this. A newfound self-respect in my own capability, that’s changing my whole outlook. Maybe skinning a bear and dealing with that disgustingness showed me I have way more stomach than I thought I did.

  I’m learning to turn at will too, improving that ability and can almost turn in my sleep now without a second thought. Easy as breathing the more I do it, and I can sustain it for longer as my stamina builds. I can even turn singular parts, like my hand, without a full body turn, which means I’m gaining the control I needed. Like Colton, who uses his eyes to warn when he doesn’t want to use his alpha gift, or turn fully … I’m learning how to do it. I can physically feel when I make my eyes change now.

  The weird thing though, is my paws and stomach, they seem to be whiter than I remember, with each turn, and without a mirror to fully inspect myself, I can’t tell if I am losing grey. It sounds stupid, but I think my grey fur is falling out, or getting
lighter, and I don’t know why. My legs, I’m certain were fully grey, but now, my feet are white too, and I don’t know if maybe I just remember them dirty, or it was dark the first time I turned, but they’re snow white now.

  I yawn and stretch out lazily, rolling over under my makeshift cocoon, the rough fur grazing my naked skin in an oddly comforting way, and turn to gaze up at the clear sky this morning. Almost tropical blue and cloudless, with no hints of bad weather or rain like a few days back. A great day for an early start, and as I’ve come up against some uphill terrain in a pretty thick part of forest, I should savor some of this before I hit the shadows of the canopy. It’s dusky and gloomy in the dense parts and I like to find clearings to settle at night, so I can wake with the light.

  I made a direction change after I set off from my bear battlefield too. Maybe it was the newfound self confidence in my abilities, maybe it was the adrenalin clouding my brain, but I decided to embrace my gut instinct and head east, just like my gut kept telling me to do. It’s not like I have anyone dictating otherwise, or any destination I am aiming for.

  It paid off, and after I did a spot check tree climb to see which direction the mountain lay, I surveyed the land and noted that south was taking me towards clear landscape, fields, and open lands with the hints of a town or city ahead. East was taking me into the mountains, with dense woods, a lot of lower hills and cliffs scattered in continuous canopy cover, and a lot of forest to get lost in. I don’t want to be among people if I can help it, so my decision was made. East it was, and since then I feel strangely peaceful.

  It’s like the stirring aching feelings were not all about Colton, and home, and being alone. As soon as I hit my new direction, something inside of me stopped praying on my thoughts, constantly filling me with a sense of wrong and despair. It’s almost like I answered something that had been bugging me, and maybe I should just embrace the fact my instincts were telling me east made more sense. Which it does, even if I’m no longer heading away from the mountain, but sort of parallel to it now. I feel like I’m far enough that I will never accidently stray into the path of a Santo, even if they do come miles for whatever reason. It’s a big world, and it would be minimal for a chance encounter.