Of Wolf

Hans has no idea how but he has made it back to his cabin without issue. As soon as he stumbles inside he slams and bolts the door cshut. It’s a reflex he is pleased he has as every cell in his body is in pain. Excruciating pain that Hans’ is sure will soon see him die. He can’t imagine he can survive it as he collapses onto all fours. If he were not in pain he’d find it funny that he is yet again in this position on his cabin floor.

Hans howls and roars. His eyes watch as copious amounts of thick dark fur sprout from his itching skin and then his fingers stretch and grow claws. The transformation so painful Hans continues to roar and howl with a voice that he would never have guessed he was capable of if he weren’t bearing witness to it at this very moment.

Then suddenly the pain is gone but in Hans’ place is a human sized wolf whose head turns left and right. It drinks in the sights and sounds of the world around it, while a primal hunger grumbles angrily just below the surface. It’s a hunger that needs to be satiated but everything the wolf sees and smells elicits no stirs of interest. Then there is a knocking at the cabin door behind the beast.

The wolf turns a hundred and eighty degrees and glares at the thick solid wood of the door before sniffing. As it sniffs repeatedly the wolf hears a voice ask, “Hans, are you ok? What is going on in there?”

Patrice! Hans screams his friends name hoping he can get his attention and warn him that he needs to run. However, the only sound that leaves the wolfs’ mouth is an angry growl that echoes loudly in the confines of the cabin.

The knocking immediately stops and Patrice on the outside of the cabin begins to back away from the door. He heard the noise and it is unmistakably the growl of a wolf. Patrice doesn’t understand what is going on but he’s heard stories. It’s one of the reasons he has begged over the years for Hans to move into the town. His friend had always refused, reminding Patrice that the cabin has been in his family for generations. Now it seems these tales, that he thought were impossible but still feared, may actually be true.

But Patrice gets only as far as descending the three shallow wooden steps that link Hans’ cabin to the floor of the moss covered clearing, when the wooden door explodes into a hail of splinters that are sent out in every direction.

Patrice shields his face as he stumbles backward screaming and begging for mercy. He doesn’t know why he begs and even if he were aware of his actions would not be able to provide an answer. Not that it matters as Wolf Hans throws himself at the cowering man.

Patrice tries to move and wriggle away but Wolf Hans is faster and bites down on Patrice’s thigh with precision. Patrice roars at the top of his lungs in the moments before the chunk of flesh at the top of his leg is viciously torn away. Blood spills onto the once green moss staining it a deep red, while Patrice babbles almost feverishly for mercy. But mercy will not come, even as the man tries to batter and bash the wolf away from him. Not that the desperate actions work as Wolf Hans takes another bite out of Patrice, this time from his flailing right arm.

Patrice belches mucus in response as tears stream down his face in response to the loss of his right forearm, which is now little more than a bloody ragged stump and the exposed bone of his elbow.

Stop! I have to stop, Hans demands.

His orders are met with silence and only more brutality as Wolf Hans grips the exposed bone of Patrice’s arm and pulls angrily at it. In response, Patrice cries and stutters attempting to beg for the torture to end. But the beast has no intention of stopping. It is feeding its baser instincts and Hans, the man, has no control over its actions. He is simply a passenger, forced to watch as the wolf tears the remains of Patrice’s right arm away from his shoulder. Blood spurts jets of crimson in wide arcs that cover a good metre and a half distance before staining a collection of flat worn grey rocks.

Before much more time passes Patrice stops making any sound. He’s lost too much blood. Not that such a thing stops the beast who continues to consume the blood soaked remains of Patrice until there is little left but a wet carcass.

Hans, the man, can barely believe his eyes as he has been forced to watch the consumption of his friend by whatever his body has now become a vessel of. It sickens him and he hopes death will come soon. Though, it is clear that Wolf Hans has thoroughly enjoyed feasting on what had minutes earlier been a good decent man.

Then both Hans’ hear a sound and for the first time they react in unison as they both instinctively turn toward the source of the noise.

Neither of them sees anything, which is no surprise as they are sharing the same pair of eyes. Though, they are without question looking in the right direction, the tree line of the forest.

That is why they instead begin to listen. At first Hans, both wolf and man, hear nothing. Suddenly that changes as they catch glimpses of sound, footsteps and a franticly racing heart. Before Hans, the man, can think anything the wolf side of him leaps into action.

Hans screams angrily for the wolf to give pause. To think and not just act, but it is too late. The wolf side of Hans has already broken through the tree line and is now racing between the trees in pursuit of whoever has dared stalk them.

Hans can feel the thoughts of the wolf, but at the same time he can’t quite say they are his own. They are definitely in his head, as there is only a single head for them to share. Though, something about the way the wolf thinks is alien to him. Still, he can’t help but be impressed with the ease and speed at which the wolf blazes forward, shifting direction as the scent of the prey fills their nostrils. Hans catches himself smile. Immediately he is sickened by his reaction and chastises himself because of it. This isn’t him. He isn’t a violent man. Yet, he has just killed his oldest friend. Can he still say that? He doesn’t know. He just wishes he didn’t feel this ravenous hunger in his gut. There is no doubt that the hunger is what is driving the wolf part of him and if he were stronger he might be able to fight it, but he can’t. It’s strength is overwhelming and so he is simply as passenger along for the journey, forced to watch as the wolf darts around a small outcropping of rocks through which a small fir has sprouted.

Before long the Hans’ catch sight of something. It is little more than a shape, but it brings toothy fanged smiles to their faces. That is why moments later Wolf Hans lunges open maw first toward the target. But the shape ducks and stumbles away just in time for Hans to go shooting past and then into a recovery roll.

Both Hans’ growl in frustration as they spin around only to find that the shape, their prey, has shockingly vanished. What’s worse is that the scent is gone too. In response to these failures they unleash a long ear-splitting howl of frustration that sends birds, who had been nesting merrily in the canopy of the forest, up into the sky. The birds are in a panicked frenzy and quickly depart the area as swiftly as their swings will allow.

A part of Hans, the man, is relieved they never caught up to their second target. Surprisingly it is only a very small part and that worries him as they head back toward the cabin.

Hans doesn’t know what will come next, or whether he will be allowed control of his body again. He intends to struggle until he has, but thus far it is clear that the wolf is much stronger than he and that concerns him deeply.