“Damn you,” I shouted. “You won’t win this easy. Come and get me now, bitch.”
They rushed me at the same time. Black and silver fur and gleaming fangs, green eyes full of hate, I went down under the assault. Maeve buried her teeth in my arm. I screamed as fire burned through my veins from her bite. The smaller wolves howled as they circled us. I kicked and punched and kept screaming as we thrashed across the meadow. The wolves played with me, teeth snapping shut just shy of my face. I swear Maeve smiled as she chewed my sleeves off. Blood dripped from the bite on my arm.
My vision blurred with a golden haze. A sense of reassurance washed through my mind. The touch was gone as quickly as it had come.
I rolled through a patch of dandelions, their strong scent mingling unpleasantly with the musky scent of the wolves. The black male snapped his jaws shut on the pouch Roy had given me. He howled in surprised pain, backing away and shaking his muzzle. I grabbed the silver bitch by her scruff, slamming my head into hers. She rolled away. The other wolves launched themselves at me as the leaders retreated. I went down again in a pile of snapping teeth and clawing paws. I curled up, with my arms over my head.
A wolf yipped in pain. The yowl of an angry mountain lion silenced them. The wolves tucked tails between their legs and ran for the trees, except for the leaders. My heart rate doubled. The giant cat was right above me. It yowled again, planting its big feet on either side of my head. I stared at claws the length of my fingers on paws the size of saucers. What other wildlife was going to attack me tonight?
The werewolves advanced, hackles raised. Silver and black fur blurred as they charged the mountain lion. I rolled the other way as the three tangled in a heap of snapping jaws and flailing limbs. I scooted backwards, feeling my way across the meadow. My hand closed on my gun. I clutched it like a lifeline. I aimed at the wrestling animals.
Then hesitated. Something about the cat’s golden eyes was too familiar. I couldn’t shoot the wolves without hitting the cat. My aim wavered. Blood slicked the grip of the gun from the bites on my arm.
The rest of the wolf pack crept from the woods, eyes fixed on me. I pulled the trigger. The lead wolf tumbled to the ground to lay still. The other four kept coming, crouching as they stalked me.
I couldn’t retreat, not while sitting on the ground and aiming my gun. They’d charge if I gave them an opening. I squeezed off another shot. The wolves scattered, all four still closing but now from different directions. The night air was full of growls as the three large animals tore up the center of the meadow. The other wolves crept silent now. I pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the night. One wolf howled, biting at the bleeding gash on its flank.
The three remaining wolves charged. I emptied my gun, missing all three. I scrambled backwards. A huge shape loomed out of the trees behind me.
“Oh, crap,” I muttered as the grizzly stepped into the meadow. It growled, a deep bass rumble. Nobody with any brains messed with a grizzly, especially not one already standing and threatening. One swipe of those claws would kill me. The beast looked ten feet tall from where I sat in the torn up meadow fumbling bullets into my gun.
The wolves were already in an attack frenzy. They snarled, throwing themselves at the bear. He swung his massive paws, knocking them ass over teakettle across the meadow. Two lay still. The other one limped into the forest as fast as it could go, tail tucked firmly between its legs. The one I’d shot took one look at the bear and followed its pack mate.
The bear shook itself, fur rippling silver in the moonlight. It glanced down at me. I couldn’t move, frozen in fear. Its brown eyes held more intelligence than I expected. I felt something brush through my head, a touch of amusement. The grizzly stepped past, dropping to all fours to charge the wolves fighting the mountain lion.
I stared, too shocked to do anything as the four animals squared off, mountain lion and bear fighting the two wolves. Fur and blood flew, black in the moonlight. The black wolf squealed, an almost human scream, as the grizzly ripped its throat open. The silver wolf snapped teeth shut on the bear’s front leg. The mountain lion roared, jumping the wolf bitch with both claws and teeth. She howled, long and loud, as the cat bit through her spine. She fell to the ground, twitching and moaning. The grizzly placed a paw on her throat and leaned. Her breath choked out.
The cougar looked at me, golden eyes glowing in the night. Blood stained his muzzle. I raised my gun, my aim wavering as I waited for his attack. He nudged the limp black wolf, eyes fixed on me. Was he offering me a present like a housecat with a mouse?
The mountain lion sat on his haunches. I swear he sighed, as if I were stupid. He nudged the wolf with one paw, eyes flicking to my gun.
The grizzly grumbled, copying the cat’s gestures with the silver wolf bitch under his paws.
“You want me to shoot them?”
The cat nodded his head. He stepped back, out of range.
I walked forward, one shaky step at a time. The bear and cougar sat back, watching me. I took aim and shot into the head of the black wolf. His form wavered, as if it were underwater. A naked man lay in the torn up and bloody grass, a bullet hole in his forehead. I swallowed bile.
The grizzly nudged the silver wolf. My hand shook as I raised the gun again. I licked my lips my gut twisting. I’d had to shoot animals sometimes, but never people. I lowered the gun.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
Brown and gold eyes watched me, full of compassion and resolve. The grizzly nudged Maeve’s still form. Blood leaked from her throat, staining her silver fur. I shook my head.
The mountain lion sighed, a very human sound. He shook himself, his golden fur blurring. I blinked. Larou rose to his feet in the place where the cougar crouched. His naked skin gleamed in the moonlight. Blood marked several scratches and bites on his arms and shoulders.
“You understand now, Tori?”
I flapped my mouth, unable to find words.
“A werewolf isn’t dead unless you shoot it with silver or behead it,” Larou said. “So unless you want me to fetch you an axe, you need to use the gun.”
“What about the bodies? What about the police?” My voice cracked.
“Roy will take them someplace where their remains might surface in a year or two. Or maybe never.”
I shifted my gaze to the grizzly. “Roy?”
The bear growled impatiently.
“But they’re people, Larou. And we murdered them.”
“Self-defense, Tori. Finish her off.”
The silver wolf twitched, front paws scraping dirt. Her eyes blinked open, lips lifted in a silent snarl.
I fired. The explosion echoed too loud in my ears. Maeve went limp, her form shifting to her human shape. I dropped the gun, closing my eyes.
Larou caught me in a tight hug. “Don’t think too hard, Tori. Werewolves would have taken over the town.”
I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his warm, supple skin under my shaking hands. I breathed in the clean woodsy scent of him. “What about the bites? Isn’t that how you become a werewolf?” I pushed away from him. “You’re one, too.”
“A were-lion?” He grinned. “Not really. You never asked about my tribe. We don’t need moonlight to change, only the right incentive.” He took my arm, wiping blood from the ragged bite. I winced though his touch was gentle. “They shared their blood and their curse. I can change that, if you choose. You’ll have to join my tribe, though.”
“Is Roy one of you, too?”
“And others.”
I met his golden eyes. “Is this why you left?”
“Can you handle my other face, Tori?”
“If you can handle mine.” I cupped my good hand over his on my bloody arm. “Does this mean I’ll be a real bitch?”
He laughed. “Only when you choose.”
I stepped into his embrace, accepting the unexpected future I’d just been handed.
***
About the Author:
Jaleta Clegg likes
to live in other peoples’ heads, which is where many of her stories come from. She writes silly horror, science fiction adventure, fantasy, and now rural dark fantasy, since it isn’t quite urban fantasy. It has werewolves. You can find more of her work at: https://www.jaletac.com
###
The Wars Within
by Jaime McDougall
Copyright © Jaime McDougall
“Go on ahead and make yourself comfortable. She’ll be in to see you soon.”
I stepped inside the small, empty office and looked around, not making eye contact with the short, plump – oh, what was the politically correct term these days? Big-boned? – receptionist, Tammy, who let me in. She waited at the open door as if she expected something. I sat down on one of the fake leather chairs in front of the desk and stared forward, waiting for her to leave. The sound of her wheezing breath became agitated for a few moments before I heard her shuffle off and the door click shut.
I stood and began examining the room. The offices never seemed to change much. Even when you were alone they always felt like boxes. Containers filled with pictures of flowers or landscapes hanging on white or grey walls, a solid colour clock with a white background and black numbers. The occasional stuffed animal or ‘inspirational’ quote calendar.
Today’s quote? “Always look on the bright side.”
Louise giggled, and I let her. I probably would have giggled too, had I not realised what being in this room meant.
Sighing, I sat down again and looked at the desk situated, as always, directly opposite the door. There were a few knick-knacks and a pen holder along with a box of tissues on it but not much else.
They never family photos on display. I assumed they were afraid. I would be. I’d never display family photos in an office like this. Not with the kind of people who made these appointments.
Someone knocked softly and I spun around, my jaw and fists clenched. A woman in red skirt and jacket with her blonde hair neatly pinned back came in. I relaxed and came back to myself. She looked nice. Gentle, even.
Red. A bold colour. She must be new at this.
“Hello…” She looked in the file she held. “Allison. I’m Dr. Santia. Please take a seat.”
No handshake. No physical contact at all. I like that. Louise did, too, but she usually liked meeting new female friends no matter how they chose to greet her.
I sat down in the chair and crossed one knee over the other, folding my hands in my lap. I looked down at them for a moment, focusing on the dirt under my fingernails, and took a deep breath. Then another. Unlike some of my instant defences, Julia took a little coaxing.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Dr. Santia said. She smiled. “I’m not very good at these first appointments, either. I get a little nervous, too.”
The buddy-buddy route. Haven’t had that one in a while.
I’d been through it before. One or two more deep breaths would shut “Allison” off and bring out Julia. Julia, the social queen, domestic goddess, and gracious hostess the world has always loved to think I truly am. I don’t remember when she first appeared, but I think it was sometime shortly after starting school and the pressure to be social started.
She would be horrified at the dirt under my fingernails.
I had others I could choose from who would come out with less coaxing than Julia, but people I don’t know seem to respond the best to her. She’s polite, quiet, agreeable, and everything else perhaps a real princess would have been trained to be. Dr. Santia would like her, and I needed Dr. Santia to be at ease.
All I had to do after that was sit back and watch. Or go to sleep and let Julia hold on as long as she liked. I chose to watch, this time. I usually do for these appointments. I like observing people.
Dr. Santia smiled. “Why don’t we get started? Tell me a little about you.”
Julia worked her magic through most of the session. She laughed softly at the right times, handled important questions with all the seriousness any slightly bubble-headed twenty-year-old should. She even skilfully paused and occasionally babbled on to push the time as far as she could while they were in the realm of pleasant questions.
Yet another reason I liked having Julia up front.
Dr. Santia nodded along, listening more than taking notes. A good sign.
“And I’ve always dreamed of doing something that helps people,” Julia said. Words from my mouth that weren’t entirely untrue, though less true as the years passed. “I’m not sure if I want to try going the charity route or just do what I can day to day to help. I’ve been looking into becoming a social worker.”
She topped that off with a sunny smile and a little shoulder shrug. Nice touch.
“Excellent, excellent,” Dr. Santia said, mimicking the habit of repeating words that I’d noticed among psychiatrists. Whether those few seconds were all that valuable or not, I don’t know, but almost all of them did it. “Now I’d like to come right out and ask you a more personal question. Have you ever been abused?”
Julia faltered.
She didn’t deal with abuse. Abuse didn’t come with subjects like knowing who to seat next to whom at a party or the best way to talk to people when you want them to do something for you.
The jolt of being pushed to the front felt almost like a slap across the face, and I looked at Dr. Santia, wondering if she had somehow noticed. Julia skittered away to wherever it is she goes when she’s not up front. I had to remind myself to swallow and breathe deeply so I didn’t panic. I just barely moved my fingers and toes, adjusting to the sudden full control.
Did the others feel that way when I called on them?
“Any kind of abuse,” Dr. Santia said. “It can come in different forms. Emotional or mental...”
So many memories tried to flood into my mind at once. Knowing at a young age I should have been born a boy. If only I had been born a boy, life would have been so much better. I wouldn’t have caused any problems. I would have made my family happy if only for that one detail so out of my control.
I felt Alexandra enter the edges of my awareness.
“Physical...” Dr. Santia continued.
I swallowed. I didn’t dare glance at the clock, lest it give away my desperate need for this appointment to be over.
‘For your health,’ they had said. That’s what they always said. Why wouldn’t they just take me to the doctor? Why did they have to beat my back so hard? At least I had learned how to stand on the edges of the bath without disturbing the shower curtain. They never found out and I avoided the boiling hot bath water. They noticed my drinking, but they didn’t care so long as I left some over for them.
Alexandra stepped forward with her full strength to shove the memory away.
“Sexual…”
Images of Uncle Bo taking me for that walk when I was a little girl popped into my mind. The little copper button on my blue corduroys. How easily the button would just pop off and the matching copper zipper could be undone.
Alexandra immediately shoved the memory away as Louise started to whimper.
“Abuse?” I asked and then licked my lips. “I...”
Next came the memories of the tall man in my nightmares. Tall with brown hair. He used to shove up my shirt and make me hold onto the cheap, metal headboard of my bed. Things weren’t clear beyond that, but he was reason I slept in the toy box or under the bed. He made me call him my prince, I think. The memories became so fuzzy and I didn’t want them to become clear.
I struggled against the details. I’d lie on the bed during the day and know my prince would come again soon. There was no love or hate in it; I simply knew he’d come.
“Allison?”
Alexandra came forward with full force once again, trying to shove all the memories away before I could become fully aware of them. I could feel her preparing to take over completely if she felt the need called for it. Julia sat in the corner, cuddling Louise and crooning to the little girl softly as they both tried to bliss away the cha
os.
I submitted to Alexandra, giving up my hold on the memories as they slowly faded from my mind, but I did it too late.
From the black depths somewhere within me, Maia woke. The torrent of memories had stirred even her in the faraway place I had confined her to – that we all had confined her to. Yet the memories provided more than enough to give even Alexandra pause.
Maia’s screams bubbled up inside me, causing the memories to flood in again. People. Places. Emotions I had never fully felt. I tried to catch glimpses of the pictures before Alexandra shoved them away or Maia tore at them, sickly fascinated with the horrors of my past. Maia’s rage and yelling made me physically cringe.
I looked at Dr. Santia and Maia raged all the more. She had caused this to happen. She had disrupted the peace and sent it all into chaos. She had released what had been carefully tucked away for so many years. Maia screamed for justice and revenge, making me want to hold my head and cry.
“Allison?” Dr. Santia looked concerned. A little afraid, even. A pleasurable shiver flew up my spine.
So much. There were so many memories. So many things pushed aside. So, so much. Even things as recent as a few days past...
Maia stopped screaming. Alexandra stopped pushing thing away. Even she could not protect me from a memory so fresh.
The cane, all steel.
Mother’s face of disappointment.
The pain.
Shock.
Dr. Santia asked the question again and I looked at her. We all did.
“No, I have never been abused.” Maia licked her lips and scratched the fake leather along the arms of the chair. It had been so long since she’d had the pleasure of being in control. I took a deep breath, taking away the last bits of control over the body from Allison.
Dr. Santia nodded once again and began writing as fast as her hand would allow. I watched her, cocking my head to one side, then to the other.
Everything had gone quiet. So quiet.
I cracked the knuckles of my fingers, one by one, and wondered if the noise made Dr. Santia nervous. It shouldn’t have. After all, she had caused all the noise just moments ago. The noise that woke me up. Noise I stopped. She went and stirred up everything all over again and then expected things to be okay.