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Authors: Keith Gouveia

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Animal Behavior and Other Tales of Lycanthropy (4 page)

BOOK: Animal Behavior and Other Tales of Lycanthropy
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How a man, crouched on all fours, can match the speed of a deer, I’ll never know. Of course I was skeptical, but I did not show this to him, and thus he began to trust in me and told me of the human victims during the following cycles. Unfortunately, he did not know their names. These were complete strangers who mistakenly crossed his path.

Over the next few days he allowed me to conduct experiments, experiments that ultimately proved he was criminally insane. I locked him in a padded room with a couple of obstacles and the lights out. He bumped and stumbled around as you and I would in the dark. He had no heightened senses, no super strength, and no superior healing.

He assured me that if there was a full moon, the results would be entirely different. So in the name of science, I agreed to reevaluate him and hold off turning in my report.

I was curious. Shaun obviously believed he was a werewolf so strongly that I wondered if his mind could manifest the traits of the wolf during the full moon. I could not simply write it off, as the details he gave were just too accurate. Even the world’s greatest writers could not dream of this level of minute particulars.

No. Shaun’s mind witnessed these feats one way or another. And a paper this pertinent would secure my place in the annals of history. It would be my crowning achievement.

He has been moved to a padded cell with a live video feed transmitted into my office. You should be able to witness the events for yourself and submit the tape as evidence. I will be locking myself in there with him in the hopes that I will be able to talk him—or hypnotize him, if need be—out of the supposed transformation should it occur.

The staff is aware of the situation and will be monitoring us. Hopefully, they will put their personal opinions of me aside and do their job for a change.

The sun is going down.

Time to put the irrational mind to the test and hope there is a tomorrow.

Chase’s gaze left the letter and fixated on the television monitor in the corner of the room. “This is too weird,” he said. He turned around and made sure the door was closed.
I probably should just wait for homicide . . . but this could be my chance to shine
.

He pulled the high-back leather chair behind the desk over to the monitor, sat, and hit rewind on the digital feed. In reverse the image was distorted but he could see Julia administering CPR while the orderlies beat Shaun down, then them leaving the room and a struggle between the doctor and his patient, then calm.

Chase hit play.

Both the doctor and Shaun sat crossed-legged on the floor. Shaun’s lips moved and the doctor responded. Suddenly, Shaun stood and walked to the window.

Wish this thing had audio. Make my job easier. What’s he looking at?

Shaun turned around; his mouth twisted in what Chase could only assume was a snarl. The doctor stood, his lips moved. Shaun leapt. The doctor dropped his notepad and threw a wild right. Shaun blocked it and grappled the doctor to the floor. The two struggled for the upper hand. With a knee to the groin, Shaun fell off the doctor. He quickly got to his feet and ran to the door. The doctor pounded on the steel door with both fists and it appeared he was screaming for help, but no one came.

With his back turned to his assailant, Shaun pounced on him and bit into his shoulder. The doctor spun around and slammed Shaun into the wall, but the padding rendered the blow ineffective. Shaun braced his feet against the wall, kicked off, and sent them back to the ground. The doctor’s head slammed into the floor. Shaun grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped him over. He leaned in close and clamped his mouth around the doctor’s throat, and with a pull, the man’s flesh ripped away. Arteries stretched and snapped. A delightful look adorned Shaun’s face as he chewed his prize. Blood pooled around the doctor as his arms and legs ceased moving.

The door burst open and Lamont and Franklin, Chase assumed, entered the room. They immediately tackled Shaun to the floor; Julia came dashing in with the straitjacket.

Chase stopped the video and hit rewind.

Had they been at the door like they were supposed to, they would have been able to save him.

He looked to the letter again and knew Shaun was too dangerous to allow to live. The court would appoint some scumbag defense attorney looking to make a name for himself and push for an insanity plea, and undoubtedly win.

The door to the office opened and Lamont stepped inside followed by another black man. Chase shook with a start.

“Figured you were still here,” said Lamont. “This is Franklin.”

Without a word, Chase offered the doctor’s final thoughts to Lamont. The man looked at him, brow wrinkled in bewilderment.

Chase crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Read it.”

“What is it, man?” Franklin asked as he looked over Lamont’s shoulder.

“It would seem you were all made aware of the doctor’s intentions.”

“Look . . . we, ah . . .”

“Save it. Let me tell you how this is going to go down. You’ll be arrested for involuntary manslaughter. Best case scenario, you lose your jobs. Worst case scenario, you face jail time. However, this doesn’t have to leave this room. What happened here cannot happen again. Is there any way you can get Julia over here?”

“Yeah, I can page her on the intercom.”

“Do it. We all need to get our story straight before the homicide detective arrives.”

Lamont picked up the phone on the desk and dialed one-five-zero, then his voice came over the intercom, “Julia please come to Ebby’s office.”

It was only a minute or two before she appeared in the doorway. “What is it?”

“I know the truth, but I’m willing to work out a deal. I don’t ever want that lunatic on my streets again, so I propose we all tell the detective, when he arrives, the same story. We destroy the letter implementing all of you and I put a bullet in that man’s chest. We all say it was self defense and we’re all in the clear. Well?”

The three coworkers looked to each other, their faces showing nothing but confusion and mistrust.

Lamont broke the silence. “Is this some kinda entrapment?”

“No. It’s on the up and up, but we have to decide now.”

“Why are you willing to put your neck out for us?”

Lamont’s eyes held suspicion and Chase couldn’t blame him. What he was proposing was unorthodox to say the least. “Several years ago my niece was raped and murdered by a man who beat the system claiming God told him to punish the wicked. The psychiatrist assigned to him faced a jury panel and with great conviction convinced them that S.O.B. was rehabilitated. That level of insanity cannot be fixed. Much like how a pedophile cannot be cured. There’s just something wired wrong in their brains. Believe me, I’ll be taking just as much of a risk as you guys. We’ll be in this together.”

Lamont turned to his coworkers. “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to be here with him. There’s two more nights for the full moon,” Julia said and Lamont put his hand on her shoulder. She turned into his embrace and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Franklin, you cool?”

“I’ve got four kids to feed. I can’t lose this job. I don’t even want to think about what would happen to them if I went to jail.”

“Then it’s settled?” Chase asked.

“Yeah, man.”

“How are we going to claim self defense when he’s in a straitjacket, though?” Julia asked.

“We just need to undo it enough. Besides, there’s a tape with him killing the doctor fully secured.”

She nodded in understanding.

“Speaking of tapes, is there a video feed in Shaun’s new room?”

“No,” Franklin said. “That was his original cell, so it will make perfect sense as to why we moved him there.”

“All right.” Chase clapped his hands together. Never would he have imagined himself getting excited over killing a perp, but too many times he’d seen criminals walk and he looked forward to making sure it didn’t happen this time. The doctor had asked for help in case he failed and Chase planned to honor that request.

“Let’s do this,” Lamont said as he let Julia go.

As a group they exited the office and went to Shaun’s padded cell. Franklin unlocked the door. Chase stepped in, hand on the butt of his pistol. The drugs were obviously wearing off as Shaun was sitting up. As Chase stepped closer, a low growl warned him not to take another step.

He withdrew his gun and took aim.

A buzzer rang in the hallways.

“That’s the front door,” Julia said, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Hurry up,” Lamont ordered. “Take the shot.”

We’ll see if you’re a werewolf the old-fashioned way. With a bullet not made of silver.I’ll be watching you
. Chase fired. A crimson flower blossomed over Shaun’s heart and his body slumped over.

“Julia, let the detective in. Lamont, loosen those bindings. And no one volunteer any information.”

“Do you think he’ll stay dead?” Franklin asked.

Chase holstered his weapon. “We’ll find out tonight.” He stepped out of the padded room and went to greet the detective. He walked down the hall and as he turned down another corridor, a scream echoed off the sterile walls.

Lamont!
He ran back to the padded cell to find the black man on his back, eyes wide with terror, and Shaun nowhere to be seen. He drew his weapon and stepped into the room.

“Lamont are you—” Chase swallowed hard when he saw the man’s throat torn out.
That cunning son-of-a . . . he played possum
, he thought, eying the straitjacket lying on the floor.

The sound of a nearby door slamming caused him to suddenly turn. He stared down the hallway and saw small droplets of blood on the floor.
Was my aim off? Did I miss his heart or is he really a werewolf?

“What’s going on here?”

Chase turned to see the detective, dressed in a navy-blue suit and flashing his badge.

“We have a suspect on the loose,” he answered.

“Then we need to secure the building,” said the detective.

“On it!” Chase ran down the hallway where he had heard the door slam and came to a stairwell. He checked to see if it was clear through the small window, then kicked the door open. With his gun held out in front of him, he entered the stairwell and heard the thundering of footsteps on the metallic stairs.

“Don’t do this, Shaun,” he said, aiming his gun down between the rails.

Shaun continued to make his way down the stairs. Chase knew he wouldn’t be able to catch him and after seeing what he had, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

In turning around the bend, Shaun’s head became exposed and Chase took note. He aimed his gun for the next, and final bend and when Shaun came in range, he fired. The bullet struck its mark. A splash of crimson painted the wall behind him as Shaun’s body slumped to the floor.

Chase hustled down the stairwell, all the while praying to a God he never acknowledged, but feared he may have been mistaken. For if he was to believe in the existence of monsters, than who was he to deny the existence of an omnipotent being?

When he reached Shaun’s body, a door on an upper floor to the stairwell opened.

“Everyone all right?”

“Suspect’s subdued,” Chase replied to who he hoped was the detective.

“I’m coming down.”

“Hurry.”

Chase looked down at Shaun’s body, unable to see his face in his slouched position. He put his boot to his chest and forced him over. Glossed-over eyes stared back at him. The first bullet was higher into Shaun’s shoulder than Chase had suspected.

What a relief
, he thought.

“Good work, officer,” said the detective as he approached.

“Thank you,” he said. “Let’s hope he stays down this time.”

* * * *

 

The Wolf Maiden

 

In the shadows of the Apalachicola forest, a lone female wolf stalked the Everglades. Her tail was straight and parallel to the ground as she searched for food to build her strength, the future of her unborn pups dependant only on her since losing her mate to a passing car. She needed to feed and feed well to produce enough milk.

She failed to find fish or an otter in the sawgrass marsh and now had her sights set on a deer. A buck and two does grazed under a hardwood hammock. Even with her extra weight she was certain she could take one of them down, but she would need to get closer.

Mindful of her steps, and with the skill of a veteran, she inched her way toward the unsuspecting prey. When she was within reach she leapt out of the underbrush and latched onto one of the doe’s hindquarters. The other two deer bolted. Try as it might, the doe could not escape the wolf’s powerful jaws.

The wolf wrestled the doe to the ground, clawing at its midsection and spilling the doe’s intestines. She released her bite and quickly clamped her jaws onto the doe’s neck; with a twist and a pull, the deer’s neck snapped.

She ate her full of the meat and dragged the rest of the carcass closer to her den so as not to leave her newborn pups for any longer than absolutely necessary when they were born. Intuitively, she dragged some fallen canopy leaves over to the deer and covered her kill from the sight of hovering vultures, then entered her den for the night. With her belly full, she was ready to usher her pups into the world. She lay down and curled herself into a ball, then drifted off to sleep.

Sometime in the night she awoke to excruciating pain in her abdomen and wetness in her fur. A deep, greenish black fluid decorated her snow-white coat. Something was wrong; she could sense it.

Relaxing her muscles the best she could, she braced herself to deliver her litter. Her breathing heavy, she licked her vulva and pushed the first pup out then immediately went to work on the amniotic sack, licking and tearing the membrane so that her pup may breathe.

Dark fluid splashed as the membrane broke. She licked her newborn pup to stimulate its breathing . . . but it didn’t respond. She listened for a heartbeat, but failed to find one.

Saddened, she pushed again, readying herself for another pup to come out.

This was to be her first litter, but instinct told her it should not have been this difficult. There was no movement inside her to help the birthing process.

She pushed harder.

Another pup emerged followed by two more. She tore the amniotic sack off one and quickly went to work on the next. She eyed each pup, searching for any sign of life. The two pups just lay there with no movement at all. The sight of the lost opportunity ached to her very core. All she wanted was a family. Though she was exhausted, she could not bear to see her pups, nor did she have the heart to discard them from her den. This would have been their home and now it would be their tomb.

Defeated, she stood up and exited her den, alone again. Tilting her head up toward the full moon she howled her song of tragedy and despair. She waited for a reply from her brethren, but none came.

With nothing left for her in the Everglades, she moved on, trekking through the underbrush and heading toward the hard earth where her mate had been taken away. Though she had longed for the birth of her pups, now she would have loved to still be carrying the extra weight. The night was alive with an orchestra of insects, the hoot of an owl, and the frolicking of woodland creatures, and yet she felt alone.

What did she have to live for?

Four pups stillborn. Was there something wrong with her?

As the night dragged on she reached civilization. The hard earth smelled of a mix of burnt rubber and decay. Mutilated corpses lay scattered across the tarmac, victims of an encroaching population.

With a nasal sigh she pressed forward, crossing the hard earth in search of anything to keep her company. The houses were few and far between with no movement around them in the midnight hours.

A shout followed by a scream broke the silence. Curious, she darted to the right. Another shout, this one closer, confirmed she was heading in the right direction. A light emanated from a window of a nearby house and she approached it with stealth.

Rearing up on her hind legs, she peeked in.

“Are you happy now? You woke the baby.”

“Ignore her, she’ll go back to sleep.”

“And you’ll wake her when you start in on me again. You’re only lowering your voice now ’cause you feel guilty.”

“Woman . . . shut up! Where are you going?”

“To check on her.”

“I said ignore her. If you keep going in there when she cries, we’ll never get a full night’s sleep.”

“I can’t do that. She’ll cry herself hoarse.”

The man got out of his recliner and stormed toward the woman. He grabbed her arm, spun her around and slapped her so hard she fell to the floor.

“You will do it!”

The wolf dropped to all fours and walked toward where she heard the crying. The window was open, allowing in the cool night air. She backed up a few steps then leapt inside. Carefully, she approached a white bassinet in the center of the room.

Inside the bassinet lay a little baby girl. Her eyes shut tight, tears streaming down her face, her cheeks red. Her mouth was wide as she cried.

The wolf heard the woman in the other room get to her feet. The wolf gently placed her right front paw on the bassinet and rocked it. After five rocks, the crying ceased.

“I told you she would stop. Now let’s go to bed.”

The footsteps grew faint as they walked away from the baby’s room. With a sigh of relief, the wolf peered into the bassinet and found herself staring into the baby’s bright blue eyes. The baby cooed and blew a bubble with its saliva. The wolf’s loneliness lifted.

She finally tasted motherhood and she wanted more. Desired it. Craved it.

As she continued to rock, the baby drifted off to sleep. Not wanting to leave this angel with that fearsome man, the wolf lay beside the bassinet and guarded her until the sound of footsteps woke her. The baby stirred and she wanted to rock her again, but the footsteps drew closer. She ducked out the window and listened.

“Momma’s here. You hungry?”

The woman lifted the baby from the bassinet, cradled her in her arms, and exposed her breast. How the wolf longed to feel the soft suction against her nipples. To be needed like only a mother could be.

Once the baby had her fill, she was placed back in the bassinet and left alone once more. The wolf jumped through the open window and reclaimed her spot on the floor beside the bassinet.

When dawn finally came, the footsteps returned. The wolf took one last look at the sleeping baby, then bolted for the open window. As the door to the baby’s room opened, she ducked down in a nearby bush and watched.

The baby’s mother walked to the bassinet, checked on her, then walked back out of the room. The man paced by one of the other windows. The wolf could not help herself and a low guttural growl escaped, but it seemed to go unheard.

“Is my breakfast ready yet?”

“In a minute. I was just checking on the baby.”

“You have all day to do that. I on the other hand have to be at work in an hour to support your sorry ass.”

“Isn’t your daughter worth a few minutes?”

“Don’t give me that crap. She’s not fussin’ so why disturb her?”

“You’d think you’d be just a little concerned considering how quiet she’s been. She could have died in the night for all you know.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that. You want another slap?”

With the man’s voice growing louder with his rising anger, the baby woke screaming.

“See what you did? Now your breakfast will have to wait.”

“I’ll get her. You watch my eggs. And don’t you dare overcook that bacon. You know I like it fatty.”

“You be careful picking her up.”

“Woman, don’t tell me what to do. I know how to handle my own kid.”

The wolf pulled back its ears, straightened its tail and crouched, ready to pounce at one false move. She watched intently as the man picked up the baby and carried her out of the room. Time seemed to slow as the baby passed out of sight between windows. She was still crying at the same pitch, so it was safe to assume the man was not causing any more distress—nor bringing any comfort.

Returning to the room, the man handed the baby over to her mother and sat down at the table. She placed a plate before him, then gently bounced the baby in her arms. The crying stopped and the wolf was relieved.

The wolf longingly watched the little angel, wishing it was she who consoled it. How she wished she could have carried the child off last night and raise her as her own, but the wild was no place for a human baby. Her instinct told her that much. For now she would settle for being a silent guardian.

Once the man was finished eating, he left the house without kissing his baby or the woman goodbye.

Watching the broken family, it was easy to tell the woman cared for the child, and the wolf could not understand how the woman could take such a chance of the man attacking the defenseless infant. Regardless, she was there now. She had purpose. A reason to live and nothing would take that away from her.

She curled herself into a ball under the azalea bush to rest up for the coming night.

The sound of a car door slamming awoke her. Night had fallen, but in the darkness she could see the man clearly. She watched him storm up to the front door and slam it shut behind him. The baby began to scream.

As she approached the window, she heard the man already ripping in to the woman.

“Where’s my dinner?”

“Did you have to slam the door? Look what you did.”

“Shut up before I slam you. Is it too much to ask for my dinner after coming home from a bad day at work?”

“There’s two minutes left on the timer, which you didn’t know before you slammed that friggin’ door!”

“Don’t you raise your voice with me. And shut that baby up!”

“How dare you?”

The woman reached for the baby, but before she could pick her up from the highchair, the man shoved the woman into the stove. The woman’s back hit the edge; her arms reached back to steady herself, but she couldn’t see where to direct them and ended up putting her hand into the uncovered saucepan. She screamed as she yanked her hand out. The pan slid off the stove and spilled boiling contents onto the floor.

The baby’s screams intensified.

“Clean that up!”

The rage in the woman’s eyes was evident. With disregard, she grabbed the pan’s handle with her uninjured hand and swung it upward. The man leaned back and the hot iron passed by inches from his face.

“Bitch!”

He backhanded the woman and she slipped in the mess on the floor. The back of her head hit the edge of the counter and the wolf heard the familiar sound of bone snapping. The woman’s body fell to the floor.

“Hey, get up! Stop fooling around. Michelle?”

The man knelt beside the woman and appeared to have realized what he had done.

Seeing the man coldly eye his screaming daughter, the wolf leapt through the glass and landed inside the room. Glass stuck in her hide, blood matted her fur, but with only one thing on her mind she pushed the pain aside.

“Grrrrr.”

“Where the hell did you come from?”

She maneuvered toward the baby, trying to put herself between her and the madman.

“You’re not getting my daughter.”

The man turned and pulled a knife out of a wooden block on the counter, but the wolf dashed forward and clamped her jaws onto his wrist as he turned back around. He screamed and grabbed the knife out of his hand with the other while she pulled and ripped at his flesh. Before he could cut into her hide with his uninjured hand, she released her grip and jumped back, mindful of the baby.

“Is that all you got?”

She crouched, ready to attack, snarling as her fur bristled. She was ready to protect the baby with her own life, ready to die a mother.

The man lunged forward with the knife out before him. She jumped to the left and clamped her barred teeth into his hand. He screamed and dropped the knife. She released her bite and stood upright, slamming her front paws into his chest and knocking him over the woman’s body.

Wasting no time, the wolf lunged for the man’s throat. Blood filled her mouth as her long, pointed cuspids broke through skin and penetrated arteries. The man choked on the flowing blood before the wolf leaned back, ripping out his throat. The body convulsed, then lay still.

The wolf turned toward the screaming baby. She wanted to tell the child it was all right, that she was safe now; wanted to pick her up and lie down and lay the baby on her paws—be her mother. But she was ill equipped.

A sudden burst of heat radiated from within the wolf’s chest. Her fur shimmered a hot blinding light. Her ears tucked back and her tail recoiled between her legs. The light filled her vision, then faded.

“What happened?” she asked, quickly putting her hand to her mouth as she could not believe she had spoken. As she did, she saw bare skin and five fingers rather than a furred paw.

BOOK: Animal Behavior and Other Tales of Lycanthropy
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