This is another story that was written for a particular anthology that unfortunately didn't make the cut. The original publisher I submitted this to had called for a were-creature story that didn't involve werewolves and took place in an urban setting. It took me about a week to come up with a satisfying story, and only a few hours to write this piece of flash fiction. I wish it had been longer but the story didn't call for it. I still feel that there's more to be told in this world, but as it is the story stands as it is.
"Are
you paying attention?... Good. We don't
have much time. The group that attacked
you and your mom are still in the area."
The overweight man leaning over Jack reaches out a hand. Helping Jack to his feet, the stranger introduces
himself and his friend. "This here
is Monty, and I'm Marshal. You have to
listen to me, and believe me. Those men,
they are werewolves. I know it sounds
farfetched, but they're real and so are we.
And I mean you too. Your wounds
were mortal and the only way to save you was to turn you. Unfortunately, your mother was too badly
injured, and at her age she wouldn't have survived the transformation."
Marshal
and Monty help Jack to a nearby bench overlooking the river. "Now, listen to me, Jack. Tonight is going to be a full moon, so your
transformation will be quick, but it will be painful. Once you've turned , Monty and I are going to
need you to join us in the fight.
There's four of them in the pack, but with you, the three of us should be
able to beat them. We are the wolves’
natural enemy."
Monty
leans close to Marshal and whispers in his ear, while keeping his eyes locked
on Jack. “Yea, Monty’s right, what were
you and you’re mom doing walking the docks so late at night on Halloween? Did you
really think it’d be safe any other night?
Up
until now Jack’s adrenaline has been pumping so hard he couldn’t even see
straight. His nerves are calming, and he looks around to see he’s in a rundown
section of the docks; this is not where he remembers being last. The two men in front of him are clearly
homeless, which doesn’t make him more comfortable.”Wait... did you say
werewolves? Crazy homeless people,
what’d you do to me? Where’s my mom?
Where are we?”
“Jeeze
Louise! Get a load of this guy, Monty.
Accusing us of harming him, when it was us who saved him. Buddy, you’re not listening to me...”
“Of
course I’m not...” Cutting each other
off, they play a verbal game of cat-and-cat.
“In
less than half an hour...”
“You’re
bums...”
“You
are going to transform!”
“Crazy
bums!”
To
Monty, the exchange sounds like he’s wearing two earphones, each playing quotes
from different movies. He holds his
hands up to stop the conversations and leans close to Marshal again.
“You’re
right again, lil buddy, a show of what
he’s in store for should help convince him.”
Are Marshal and Monty just crazy bums or is there something more to these vagrants then alcohol induced hysteria? To find out read "Little Changes" in Monster Gallery at Amazon.com
No comments:
Post a Comment