The Wolf's Song

The Watchful Protector

Diana

I gasped as I barely stopped myself from colliding with the creature. And I was right to call it such, for it was less a man and more a mixture of human and beast. His human features were still visible but exaggerated--two arms, but they were longer, the joints more pronounced, his chest was elongated, with what I assumed were ribs rippling down the front, hair piercing through what’s left of his sweater.

The legs mirrored that of a dog standing on its hind legs, but it was his face that settled the debate in my mind, for his jaw protruded outward, snout-like, his canines dripping thick creamy saliva and his breathing more of a gravel growl.

I was shaking, willing myself to move, or at the very least call for help, but seeing wasn’t really believing, because I believed what stood before I was a werewolf, and the impossibility of that prevented me from having rational life-saving actions.

In my peripheral view, people were veering from my direction, knocking into each other to avoid this thing. I noticed none come to my aid, but I could hardly blame them. I took a step back, and the creature c****d his head to the side and sniffed the air. This time its growl was unmistakably unreal.

A hand wrapped around my arm but instead of Michael, it was Maya. She yanked me aside just as the creature lashed out. It barely misses us, and we ducked under its arm, then hopped over the fence toward the instrument room.

“Are you mad! Who just stands there?!” she yelled as she continued to guide me away, but he followed, the screams of the townspeople ebbing, getting louder after we approached and dimming as the distance grew again, the creature fixated on us, on me.

I didn’t know what it wanted, or why it was coming after me, but where the hell was Michael? I heard him call me, but I lost him once I left the stage. So much for not always needing his protection.

I had no idea where we were going, but as long as the creature was following us, we had no choice but to keep going. Maya stopped and looked around, torn as to where to go next. I couldn’t help her as I had no idea where we even were.

“There is a turn a way back. Maybe we can reach it before it catches up,” she panted, out of breath. I let her lead the way but just before we reached the opening, the creature closed the gap.

I anticipated his arms swinging and knew it would hit Maya, ripping her in half. I yanked her back, avoiding most of the blow, but we caught the tail end of it and it sent us flying back and sliding across the thick snow.

Blood gushed from Maya’s shoulder, but before I could check for other wounds, the werewolf swiped again, hitting mostly the snow bank, but the force behind it was enough to send us tumbling over the side, sliding down a makeshift mound of shoveled snow.

Maya’s outcry was short as I was seconds too late from blocking her head from hitting a chunk of icy snow. She went limp in my arms. My fingers were sticky with her blood, but her being out made it easier as I didn’t have to worry about her sobs. I gripped her shoulder to try to drag her off the rest of the snow bank, but I didn’t get far as the creature topped the mound.

He threw his head back and howled into the air, his version of a final cord. My chest burned from the excretion, but I couldn’t leave Maya, then I realize it was not what he wanted. I lowered her to the ground as gently as I could. Was it possible to reason with a werewolf? He was just a man moment ago, right? I scanned the skies, and though not fully dark, there was no moon. Didn’t they only turn during a full moon? For the love of me, I couldn’t remember what Michael had told me.

“Please,” I sobbed; my voice trembled with fear, but it triggered him into action and he was pursuing me again. Hating to leave Maya, I knew she was safer away from me. I spotted a parking lot and headed for it, hoping to use the cars for concealment. I darted in between the cars, trying to lose him, but his precision was keen as he never lost sight of me. Knocking cars aside like flies, they rained down before me, blocking my escape, and forcing me to alter course. It was not long before there was only one way out and it had passed him. He huffed and blocked the path to safety and stared me down, knowing I had run out of options.

I gasped as air fought to enter me quickly as I breathed it out. Tears erupted as once again I faced death, though this was different; these eyes were intent on murder. Only now, seeing it do I recognized the difference. The yellow eyes from the forest bore into me with intention as if my death had more meaning than what this creature promised me.

Either way, my odds weren’t good. I thought of Michael and what my death would do to him. I hated that I was about to hurt him, the last person I would ever want to hurt.

The werewolf growled and made his final advance, having given me enough time to relive my greatest moments and my biggest regrets.

He neared me when a figure soared over the mound of piled-up cars. Damien leaped onto the werewolf, knocking him back. He slammed against the ground hard, while Damien landed gracefully behind him, before launching himself again toward the werewolf. Their dance was cumbersome as Damien was dwarfed beside it but still managed to gain the upper hand.

He came to the side of the werewolf and wrapped his arms as best he could around its center and it roared in pain. That was when I noticed the small dagger in his hand. He pulled his arm back and a long gash spread across the werewolf’s middle.

He roared, his attacks getting sloppy. Damien used his rage to climb its hunched back and stabbed his bloody knife into its neck several times, then the werewolf managed to shake Damien off. He got away from the howling werewolf.

I could only gawk as he began to shrink and turned back into a human form. He dropped to his knees, the knife that started in his neck now more in his shoulder, but the gash across his middle remained.

Damien waited to make sure that the now-bleeding man wasn’t going to continue his attack, but he was down for the count. Still, I couldn’t look away, trapped in fear. There was no denying it now, right? Are werewolves real? Hands suddenly grabbed my shoulders and jerked me hard.

“Diana! Diana, are you hurt?” Damien’s voice reached me. I moved out of his embrace and bumped into a car behind me. I rested against it, needing support. I couldn’t speak yet, so I nodded my reply.

That was enough for him, and he wiped the blood from his face as he turned back to the werewolf. He was breathing heavily as well but otherwise seemed unhurt. Why did he save me? I wondered. From the way Michael told it, Damien would take pleasure in anything that would cause him pain, and my death would have been on that list. Or maybe, Michael didn’t know the full extent of Damien’s hatred, rather instead of hatred, it was just twisted pain that needed a vessel instead of damning the universe for his loss.

“Thank you,” I stammered out, my voice broken. He twirled to me, green eyes usually full of mischief now slanted in disgust and confusion.

“What did you do?” he hissed. Me? What was he talking about?

“I… nothing. It just kept following me,” I stammered out. He crossed the space between us and grabbed me again.

“Not to him!” He jerked me. “To me!” he roared.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but what found its way through my haze of fear and confusion was he was blaming me for this thing and by association his actions in helping me.