Rejection My a*s

To Know the Truth

Chapter 2

After 30 minutes of walking through the forest I finally reached my home. In Front of me stood a log cabin built around an ancient tree surrounded by the thick forest. I drag the deer from the sled and started to strip him with a knife. It’s a tough job but I do it with no fuss.

After I finish, I hop onto the porch and drop a bucket full of b****y tools by the door as I enter my cabin. Inside the cabin, it's very primitive, almost cave like. Everything we own, we have built ourselves. There are few “modern” items, old and worn.

Amoux sits in the dark, the fading sunlight just barely illuminating him. He restrings a bow and watches Accalia.

I remove my coat and hang it near the hearth. I am a bit stiff, either from cold or the early beating I took.

“what's wrong, are you hurt” Amoux asked

I ignore him as I grab the shutter and begin closing up the cabin for the night. Amoux strides across the room for his knife.

“ you were half asleep” continued Amoux

I grab another shutter, put it in place a little too hard.

“Always be ready. Even when you’re sleeping. Think on your feet. Adapt …”

“ or die. I get it, I’ll do better next time” I cut him off

The room gets darker and darker as I close up the last few openings to the outside world.

Amoux picks up the bow again, pulls the string taught and slices the excess away

“How much did you pull off the deer”

“A hundred and twenty, counting the scraps” I replied not looking at him

“ About 200 pounds in total” he continued

“I think so”

“that explains it” making me look him the eye

“what does” I asked, not understanding what he meant

“how you beat me, you are getting stronger”

I put the final shutter in place, the room at its darkest.

“I am glad you didn’t snap my neck” Amoux said before putting the bow down on the floor

I sit cross legged, back straight, on the floor. I poke a stick in the glowing logs of the fire and tiny embers float into the darkness and disappear. It's one of my most favourite things.

Amoux sits in the chair and reads from a large encyclopedia, everything I know is taught by Amoux. I have never been to school, you could say I am homeschooled. Amoux is very intelligent. Because of him, I know several languages, English, Italian, Spanish, german and Russian.

He also taught me how to fight, hand to hand combat, how to fight with knives and guns. Once I asked him why  I need to learn how to fight, why do we live in forest away from anyone, away from civilisation, he said because I need to learn to defend myself, but I know there is more to the story, I know it has something to do with my mom Kiyiya’s (meaning howling wolf) death.

After insisting several times over the years to know the truth, he promised to tell me on my sixteen birthday, which is tomorrow.

“Dad, tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday”

“yes I know”

“you do remember the promise right, that you will tell me everything”, I stare up at him, but he did not say anything

“I am ready” I continued, not breaking eye contact

I can see him weighing it up in his mind but lets it go.

“go to sleep, we have an early day tomorrow”

He closes the book, pushes himself out of the chair and picks up the used dishes from an earlier meal. My eyes follow him around the room. I lay the stick in the fire and stand up and go to my room.

Once in bed, I cover myself in animal skin blankets, straightens them and make sure they are covering my feet. I lay back, pull the cover up to my neck as a test. My feet stay covered.

I sit back up, peer over the edge of my loft. Below, Amoux rinses the dishes in the bucket. I reach under my bed and pull out a copy of GRIMM’S FAIRY TALES. It has a noticeable gap where pages have been ripped out. It’s bruised and battered and splattered brown with old blood

I open it to the book mark and inside is a photo, taken in a photo booth, I stare it, in the picture is my mom, holding a small baby with Amoux right beside her. Both were smiling in the photo. I have never seen Amoux smile outside the photo. Its like he has forgotten how to smile after my mom’s death.

Through the window I can see Amoux walk through trees, a pistol in his hand before disappearing into the forest.

Now alone in the cabin, with the photo still in my hands. I stare up at the ceiling waiting for the morning to arrive, waiting to know the truth.

Oh and one more thing I forgot to tell you, I am a Werewolf or better yet

a Rogue werewolf.