Taking Down the Alpha King

Mr. Black

“WAKE UP POPPET. Come on.” The man named Harry was grabbing me by the hair, raising me from the slab I had been laid out on. Hoisting me up to sit, he examined me, his ear on my chest as he commanded me to breathe.

“Well done,” he was saying, scratching notes onto a clipboard with a ballpoint pen. “Mr. Black will be pleased to ‘ear how well you took the bite. He’s been working ‘ard on building up ‘is army. I’ll give him the good news; you sit tight.” His small lumpy frame was waddling out the door, no clothing covering his body except for the ripped jeans that hung precariously around his ample waist. Rubbing my blurry eyes, I looked again at his exiting backside, certain that I had seen two horns poking from the sides of his head.

I have to still be dreaming, I thought to myself. I was seeing some weird stuff.

My hand lifted to touch the sore spot on the back of my neck. There were tiny ridges under my skin, my finger tracing the shape as my brain tried to decipher what it could be.

My body was exhausted, the past twenty-four hours having been some of the most harrowing of my life. I had laid in here for God knows how long, continually being knocked out by something these rough dudes were calling Fairy Dust, the whole while my body was working overtime to reject what they were putting in me, causing me to vomit without stop. I wanted to roll over and lay back down, but I knew that Harry would be back any minute to get me. He had been promising to do so for days, waiting to show me off to Mr. Black, whoever that was.

I examined my arms for the first time since I had tried to run. Holding my forearm up, I touched my skin, thinking I must have imagined what I had seen. There was no hair in sight now, just my regular mildly browned arm. Confused, I gave the same glance at my nail beds, wondering if Fairy Dust was a hallucinogen to make me see what I saw. Whatever was in it did its job making me feel sleepy, but rationally I could assume that there were other effects that went with it.

Like seeing bushy black hair crawling on your arms, or talon-like fingernails projecting out of your fingers.

Shuddering at the memory, I hopped down from the table, ready to give my legs a stretch inside the tent. There hadn’t been anyone but me in here the past few days, leaving no one to answer the multitude of questions that I had.

I had no idea where I was. I had no idea how long I had really been here. I still had no idea about my dad. And I was really hungry.

I skirted around the inside of the flaps of the tent, paying notice to every detail. There were crates upon crates with the medical sign painted on them along the back, flanked by crates of hay that had nothing but bandages in them. I wanted to lift the lid on the medical box, to see if there were any of the mentioned Fairy Dust inside, but just as I was reaching for the Velcro strip that kept everything shut, I heard Harry clearing his throat.

“Looking for something?” He grinned, his beard moving with his cheeks.

“No,” I said, dropping my arm to my side. Sniffing the air, I turned a quizzical brow to him. “Something—”

“Yes,” he cut me off. “You’ll do that endlessly the first couple of days. You’ll smell things you never thought a person could smell before. Some o’ it good, some bad. It’s all part of the process.” He scribbled on his clipboard, his head dipping down.

I took the opportunity to look at his balding head, sure now that I had been correct. On the sides of Harry’s head were two tiny, spiraled horns. My eyes bugging from my head, I took a step closer to him to inspect what I was seeing. I was coming closer, still not believing, when Harry looked up from his writing.

“Ready to go?” His eyebrows hitched up, a grave expression painting his face. Gulping hard, I nodded, following him out of the tent.

Outside was much like the last time I had seen it. Trying to get my bearings, I was amazed at how much dialog was happening. What seemed like hundreds of men were flowing in different patterns across the muddy ground, flying in and out of tents that were popped up mere feet from one another. Harry’s waddle was deceiving, ‘cause it took all I had to keep up with him. My legs were screaming at me, still tired compared to the rest of my body.

We wove in and out of the endless swarm. Every few seconds, there were questions that I felt were directed at me.

Who’s he?

When did he get here?

Another new mutt to train.

Gah, Rowland. Where’d you dig this one up?

I was confused, not able to distinguish where the questions were coming from, since no one had come and directly spoken to me. I was stumbling forward, my brain failing to process my feet and my ears all at once.

Harry stopped in front of a larger tent, letting out a heavy breath before standing to the side. His hand came up, making a sweeping motion to let me know he wanted me to go inside. I ducked under the plastic, my eyes adjusting to the darker interior.

“Step forward,” was the gruff greeting bellowed by another shirtless man in front of me. His grim expression and full beard framed in a rough face, one that showed no compassion or care. “This way!” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to the center of the room before walking away.

Shrinking into myself, I cast a quick peek about the room, shocked at how much weaponry littered the walls.

“So,” came a velvet voice, belonging to a man standing feet in front of me. “You’re the one that made it. Interesting.” He picked up a single white object from his table, scooting it forward until satisfied, never looking at me.

“Y-yes, sir.” I gulped, my tongue coming to lick my lips. My tongue felt thick, swallowing impossible on account of my dry mouth. I moved nervously from side to side, unsure what I should be doing.

“Harry?” Came the velvet man’s voice.

“Yes, sire?” The potbellied man bowed low, his eyes slowly raised up to face the man who’d asked the question.

“What’s your opinion?” He asked, his eyes still glued to his table.

“Very viable option, sir. Took the fever well, came frough it faster ‘an most. Was lucid hours after the first change. All good signs, I think.” He tapped his pen on the board, clearly proud.

“And you?” He asked, his turning slightly to the side. His eyes were studying me, narrowing as he made eye contact. What do you think?

“About what, sir?” I asked.

A hush fell over the room, all eyes turning to pin themselves onto me.

Looking around, I was self-conscious, wondering what I had done to earn that kind of a reaction. Immediately backing up, I started to apologize. “I-I’m so sorry,” I stuttered. “I didn’t mean to…” Stopping short, my eyes fell to the ground, my hands clamping to each other behind my back. Puffing my chest out, I waited for the man to speak again, noticing now the amusement behind his eyes.

Looking at Harry, his tongue poked through his cheek. Giving a small chuckle, all he said was, “Perfect.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Harry, what was that?” I had been following the man back through the crowded paths back to the tent we had come from. “Answer me! You’ve been stone quiet this whole time!”

Harry didn’t pause his step until he had us both tucked back into the tent. My head was pounding from all of the talking outside, the incessant noise in my head giving me a headache. I rubbed my temples, wishing more than anything to get to sleep.

Harry pushed me until I was back on the slab table, picking my wrist up in his fingers. Testing my pulse, he wrote with his pen, his lips set in a thin line.

“Well?” I asked, my strength waning.

“You, lad, are, well... How do I put it?” He looked about the inside of our tent, making sure no one was around to hear him. “A mind linker.” The words he spoke were quiet, reverent. His fluffy eyebrows had pulled down over his face, his bottom lip chewed between his teeth.

“A mind linker?” I repeated back to him, not able to hide my incredulity. “What the heck is that?” I rubbed the raised skin on the back of my neck, the throbbing between it and my head causing my eyes to try to close.

“Oh, you’re a special breed, that’s what. Something the master ‘imself is. That’s what’s made him so powerful. He can read the thought of those around him, those of all kinds. I have to be careful what I let my mind do in the presence of linkers, as I don’t want to get beheaded for having a joke wit’ me self from time t’ time.”

The words coming out of his mouth made no sense to me. Stifling a yawn, I let out frustrated huff. “Breed of what? Human?” My head rolled back, the pain making my neck stiff.

“Human?” He hummed, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, you haven’t figured out yet, have ye? You’re stronger than I thought.” He made a quick jot on his clipboard, moving it to the table before coming to stand in front of me.

“Lad, what do ye think I am?” He asked, his mouth opening with a wide smile.

“Uhhhh…” I thought hard for a second, considering I still felt like I was dreaming. “Based on my book and movie knowledge, I’d saw you were some kind of hobbit?” My face twisted up, already embarrassed by my answer.

“A HOBBIT?!” He howled, his hand slapping his knee as tears fell from his eyes. His large chest was wheezing with strained laughter, every time he opened his eyes to see my face, another round of heaving commenced. Straightening himself at long last, he wiped his face, his hands coming to brace him on the slab where I sat.

“Nay, lad.” He chuckled. “I’m what ye’d call a satyr.” He lifted the pant of his leg, revealing hooves. “And you,” he continued. “Are now part of the Were’ community. You lad, are a Werewolf now.” His face and tone were serious, his eyes twinkling with fatherly pride as he looked at me fondly.

Bursting into laughter of my own, I wiped my own eyes, thinking that this was more comical than any movie I’d ever seen. Sitting straight up on the table when I was done with my row of laughter, I rubbed my eyes, hoping that this dream never ended.

“You’re a funny man, Harry.” I smiled, hopping off the table. “This has all been fun, and kind of weird, but I have some very pressing things to get to. Like finding my dad.”

“And you’re not understanding me, lad.” Harry came waddling beside me. “I think ye better look out at where ye are. You’re behind the veil now, and Rowland thinks of ye as his. Better be careful, and start accepting things now, or it could get real difficult when it wouldn’t have to be.”

Stunned by his words, I looked down at my arm. Pinching my skin as hard as I could, I looked around, noticing nothing had changed. Pinching again, I grunted as I squeezed with all my might.

“What are you doing?” Harry quizzed me, his face contorting in amusement.

“Waking myself up,” I quipped, straining to pinch myself harder.

“You don’t believe me still.” He licked his lips, taking a few steps back from me. “All right, I’ll prove it to ya.” Taking a running leap, he crashed his hooves into me, knocking me back.

“Hey!” I yelled, launching forward, surprised by the heat of the temper that flared in me.

Pulling back, he landed a punch square in my jaw, my face absorbing it with little movement. “What’s that for??” I bellowed.

Chuckling, Harry walked away from me, standing near the edge of the tent. “I’m proving it to ye.” He stated, pulling a black sheet down from over the top of a mirror. “Have a look yeself. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Walking to where he pointed, I stopped, my breath exploding in my lungs. What stood before me was the most terrifying creature I’d ever seen.

My teeth had grown fangs, my lower ones jutting from my chin. That hair that I had thought I had imagined was covering the upper half of my body. That fierce forehead that I had noticed on the face of my captor was now MY forehead. Lifting my arm, I looked again at my claws, the viscous weapons attached to the ends of my arms. My muscles were more pronounced, my stance rigid and off center as I held my hands to my face.

“No…” I growled, shocked at the sound coming from my chest. “NO!” The growl rang from the deep of my stomach, shaking the ground where I stood. “This can’t be,” I said as my hands clawed at my face.

“It is, and it is now forever.” Harry muttered, standing off to the side. “Once you cool off, you’ll be back to your old self. You only take that shape when you’re in danger or when you’re angry. You’ll have to learn to control that if Mr. Black wants to merge you back in with society.” He puffed his chest, a huge sigh flapping his jowls.

“My dad,” I wailed in a deep howl, more hopeless now than I’d ever been. “What will he think?”

“You’re dad,” Harry cut in. “Is no concern of yours now. Let that go.”

Anger boiling like I’d never felt before raced through my veins. “I have to find him! What did you do to him?!” Springing forward, I took Harry’s shoulders into my hands, forcing him to the ground. “Tell ME!” I screeched, the burst of my voice silencing everything around us.

“Lad, yer dad is—”

“Your father is where he needs to be…for now.” That velvet-smooth voice came from the edge of the tent. My body, heaving with hate, hesitantly peered up at the figurehead of this fantasy. “Remove yourself from the top of that gentleman.” His sickly-sweet voice wafted over the air. “I do not tolerate outbursts like that, Logan. It would be best for you to remind yourself of your role here. Until two days ago, you were nothing. A nobody. A child, wandering around the wilderness on a hopeless quest that you were never meant to finish. Now, get up. Let Harry assign you to sleeping quarters, and we’ll have a chat, nice and early tomorrow, about how you’re going to be of use to me.”

Grunting, I could feel my teeth breaking the skin around my mouth, my rage not in check. I wanted to raise up and s***h the room to bits, thinking that would pacify the hurricane of emotion behind my ribcage.

“Now, now.” Mr. Black laughed. “That’s a little overkill, don’t you think?” He turned on his heel, ready to exit the tent, when he suddenly stood still in his tracks. “Logan?” He twisted back to look at me. “Have Harry tell you what happens to people that I no longer find useful. I think you would find that helpful information.” A menacing grin spread across his mouth, a black look covering his face.

Standing to my feet, I helped up Harry, who was more flustered than mad. “I’ve had my tumbles with fighters much more advanced than you, no worry. I’d ‘ave had ye if I had another moment.” He chuckled, walking to lead me out of the tent. Watching him, I couldn’t find the strength to move.

“Harry,” I begged, my soul ready to break in two if I didn’t know. “Please tell me if my dad is alive.”

A solemn sigh left his lungs, a sorrowful bow of his head tilting towards me as he answered. “Lad, I don’t know. I’m not even sure who your father was.” His words were careful, deliberate. Something about the way he said it made me wonder if he was telling the whole truth.

“You’ll tell me, Harry.” I gritted through my clamped teeth, my body temperature dropping back. “If it’s the last thing I do, I will get out of here, and find my father. I have to.”

And then, with new fury, I lashed out, “Where’s my dog?”