In a modest little cottage buried deep in
the foliage of the woods, a man who wasn't a man and a little blonde girl laid
snuggled together on a rug by the fireside. While the man was covered in a coat
of warm fur, the girl lay beside him, shivering and naked. A few others (who,
like the man, weren't really people) lounged about on the furniture, now ruined
from its excessive use by the residents contained within. Like the furniture,
the rest of the cottage’s interior was dirty and dilapidated, with trails of
muddy paw prints streaked across the stained wood floors. A raven perched on
the windowsill, squawking when it observed movement from one of the creatures
inside.
Eventually the young woman stirred from
her slumber, wiggling her small frame out of the grasp of her sometimes-lover.
No sooner had she done so did the wolf-man also wake up to see her heading
towards the door. He let out a growl of warning.
“Relax. I’m just going outside to look for
something to eat.”
He nodded in understanding and watched her departure from
the window.
The raven squawked loader, this time
successful in waking up the other werewolves. It flew from the sill and
followed the young woman down the road. Noticing their companion by the window,
a few of the wolves sauntered over to him.
“Did your whore leave at the crack of dawn
again?” one of them scoffed.
“She needed to go look for something to
eat. I do not eat the things she does, so there’s no point in going with her on
her search. Besides, we have a hunt to get on with later in the day. There was
no need to tell her no,” he replied.
“Don’t try to act like you’re in control,
boy. You’re more whipped than a farmer’s hound, and you know it,” one of the
others said.
“I am not ‘whipped.’ Her life is in my
hands, I can do with it as I please. If I tell her to stay put, she stays put.
If I tell her to do something for me, she does so. If I tell her to bend over
and offer herself to me, she asks me ‘How far should I bend?’ How can you tell
me I’m not in control of her when everything else says otherwise?” he snarled
back.
“Because it doesn’t,” the first one
replied, “She may do those things for you, but how often has she refused you?
More than once, I can tell you that. She argues with you and you let her. Does
a pet argue with its master in such a way? No, it does not. And that’s all she
is, brother. She’s not one of us, and she doesn’t follow our rules. For all you
know, when she leaves our company to go search for food, she may be out there looking
for a huntsman to come and slaughter us all. She’s cunning, and she manipulates
you to get what she wants. She’s a snake, coiled and waiting to strike. How
many times will it take for you to realize you should have eaten her long ago?”
The man was silent as he continued to stare out the window.
“Here’s the deal,” the third one piped up,
“ We've been talking, and we've all agreed that you might as well eat it
already. It’s not one of us, it doesn't belong. We already have too many mouths
to feed. When we go on the hunt today, you will stay behind. Wait for your pet,
and when it returns, devour it. Gobble up every last bit of it—we don’t care
how, just as long as you get rid of it so we never have to see it again. Do you
understand?”
He hesitated before he spoke.
“I understand. I've let her push me around
far too much, and to keep her around is a danger to our company. I will take
care of it as soon as she returns, though I can tell you she will be missed.”
~oOo~
The wolf sat at the fire side and placed
another log into the burning pile. He would surprise her, he thought, when she
walks through the door. He’ll grab her and throw her right into the fire,
charred and crisped for eating. The other wolves had left for their hunt for
what seemed like hours ago, but that was only because he was half-dreading what
was to come. He sighed as he remembered the long nights they spent together,
sharing pleasure and pain and sometimes secrets into the small hours of the
night.
At that moment the girl opened the door
and came inside, closing the frost and cutting winds behind her. She turned
around to see the wolf-man staring at her with a startled look on his face, her
grandmother’s herbs and spices set in neat little rows on the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
He got to his feet and adjusted himself. There was no use
in lying, he thought. It wouldn't make any difference.
“What does it look like? I’m going to eat
you, of course,” he replied with a stony expression.
“This is about what the other wolves were
telling you, isn't it?” her voice was cruel in their accusations, “Saying that
I tricked you? That I used you?” she
spat. “I heard you talking to them while I was outside. I wasn't that far away
from the house. I’m not stupid like they think I am.”
“You’re a liability to the company. You
seduced me…and you liked it. I’m not going to let you do it again,” he stated
coldly.
She smiled then, and her smile did not match her eyes,
which were brimming with contempt and disgust—and this is what unnerved him
most.
“You really think I’m the one using you?”
she scoffed. “I wasn't the one who stalked you through the woods. Granted I was attracted at first, but when I
learned what you were…” Although she hadn't finished her sentence, the
implications said it all.
“I didn't eat your kin,” she continued, “I wasn't the one who surrounded you with my starving pack and left you with no
other option. Seduce you? You ate my grandmother, and then you got laid. How
could I possibly…? How could I possibly enjoy such a thing…?”
She was shaking now, and although she tried to stop herself
from doing so, she couldn't bring herself to contain her contempt any longer.
“I hate you. I hate you for that. My
grandmother was important to us, and every day I live in fear that you’ll
change your mind and do the same to me. I haven’t seen my family for months. I've brushed your coat and listened to your complaining. About your secret desires
and your greatest fears. I have always been there, since the day we met. I was
there for you during times you couldn't even trust your own pack. And
this is what I get? At the slightest suggestion all of a sudden I’m nothing but
a light snack and a fuck-toy for you to play with. So go ahead and eat me you
son of a bitch. I hope I only make you hungrier with my tiny body, and that my
splintered bones cut open your greedy stomach and your blackened heart.”
She waited for a reply, glaring daggers at him; but instead
the wolf looked down at his feet, his face hidden from view.
“Well?
What do you have to say to that?” she demanded.
“I say I should have eaten you a long time
ago, back when you were fresh and well-fed,” he growled, but then stopped himself.
He paused to look at her in contemplative silence. “Do you really feel that
way?”
“I
do,” she nodded.
“I regret to say I thought otherwise,” he
replied.
“Well then you thought wrong. So what now?”
she asked, feeling awkward.
“Do you really want your freedom?”
“I…I do,” she replied, this time looking
away.
“Then take it. Get as far away from here
as you can, as soon as you can. Go back to your family,” he told her.
“Good. Thank you.” She turned to leave,
but then stopped. “I won’t tell them about this place. You know, what happened
here. Just don’t come to our village. Otherwise I will tell them, and well…you
know the rest. You know where it is?”
“I do. I’ll be sure to avoid it,” he
agreed.
“Okay then. Goodbye, Mr. Wolf.” With that
final farewell, and with nothing to take on her journey home, the girl wasted
no time in fleeing the little cottage, naked and starving through the mud and
the melting snow, the sharp wind cutting at her skin as she stumbled down the
trail as fast as she could. Not even once did she turn to look back.
The wolf watched her go, silently debating on going after
her—but for what purpose, he wasn't sure—until she was out of sight beyond the
horizon. A raven squawked at the windowsill, announcing the return of the pack,
and the wolf stood in silence as he stroked the raven’s oily feathered head,
over and over again.
