By Oboroten
"Wolf in the City"
Once upon a time, a wolf named Dennis lived in a dark forest, high on a hill overlooking the big city. Dennis was a strong, mature animal, with thick black fur and big red eyes. Indeed, those eyes had brought him to live in this place, for he loved to watch the cars climb the steep slope. He would often watch as the powerful machines raced like the wind, speeding along the shining highway. The road was even more attractive to him when it rained, for its olive shade almost matched the shade of the nearby trees.
On warm summer evenings, Dennis enjoyed roaming through the bushes on the edge of the park, for he was intrigued by the odd rituals the humans would perform there. Pairs would come out from the town, after the sun had set, and wander off into the brush. There, the male would start to remove the clothing from the female, struggling with the elastic bands around her body. The wolf found these struggles to be quite amusing, for they almost always ended with a lot of moaning and groaning. At times, he would leap in front of the pair, interrupting their tryst at a climactic moment. He shook his head as they ran away, wondering why humans acted in such a strange manner.
Being an educated wolf, he wondered why the humans only seemed to perform these peculiar activities in summer. Perhaps it was the time when the females came into heat? Or maybe it was because they were defective, not having any fur.
For Dennis, the park was even more interesting as a food source. In the fall, he could eat mushrooms which grew amidst the fields of blue hyacinths. The area was even attractive in winter, for delivery trucks would rumble up the hill, occasionally littering cans or boxes of food onto the road's shoulder. The stuff they dumped sometimes made him sick to the stomach, but it was easier to get a meal this way than to go hunting.
Not far from a rocky path in the park, the wolf dug a hole deep into the earth, burrowing far enough down to be warm even in January. He pawed the soil like a gold-miner, desperate to make enough room to hold all the treasures he'd found by the road. Knowing something of the way the humans lived, he'd collected scrap metal from the side of the highway, carrying hubcaps, screws, and other car parts back to his snug lair. There, he could make good use of them.
He loved to stare at his precious trophies, neatly arranged on the outer walls of his burrow. Imitating something he'd seen through the window of a nearby house, the wolf propped up four pistons of alloyed metal on the lid of a torn suitcase. Then, he'd grabbed a leather seat-cushion from a wrecked car, dragging into his lair to make a nice bed. To him, it was precious, and surely as good as anything the humans possessed.
When the warm weather returned, the wolf resumed his pattern of roaming the park after dark, looking for scraps of food or other things left by the humans. He also wondered if they would start their courtship rituals again, for summer was nigh. Walking beneath a grape arbor, he noticed the silvery light of the full moon made the shadows cast by the new leaves look like braided lace. Then, he heard a strange sound coming from behind an oak tree. Moving over to investigate, he saw a pair of two smelly humans walking up the path. Were they here for a tryst?
The female wore a uniform, which he recognized from a restaurant just outside the park. What did the humans call her job? Oh yes, she must be a waitress. Or was she something else?
Would her male companion try to tear her clothes off? To the wolf's surprise, he didn't make any moves toward her, but instead opened a duffel bag on a rock. Removing its contents, he began to chant, interspersing his words with peculiar howling sounds.
The woman then dumped some odd leaves on the stone and set them on fire with a match. The wolf smelled the smoke for a moment, and found that his head seemed to be spinning. Backing away, Dennis sat under a bush, letting his mind clear. They must be using something which the humans called narcotics. Perhaps such plants were helpful in their mating rituals.
As the wolf emerged from the bush, to see what was going on, the moon was nearly overhead. The man had covered the stone with various animal parts, such as rabbits' feet and lizard legs, while his female partner was clearing away the burnt leaves. Then, just as the chime from a distant clock tower signaled it was midnight, the man began removing his clothes.
The wolf decided to have some fun, for Dennis hadn't had a chance to surprise amorous humans since last summer. He'd wait until the man had stripped naked and then leap out of the bushes. But something was different this time, for the woman didn't seem to be doing anything. Perhaps she was not attracted to her partner? But then, why would he take everything off?
As the wolf ran out into the field, he heard the woman say to her naked companion, "Isn't the magic spell supposed to start at midnight? Nothing's . . ."
The man interrupted her complaint by growling deep in his throat and dropping to the ground, landing on all fours next to his pile of clothes. As the wolf walked by him, Dennis noticed that the man's eyes were glowing red, shining with an eerie fire. Suddenly, to the wolf's surprise, he lunged forward, seizing the tip of the wolf's tail with his pointed teeth.
Feeling a sharp burst of pain, Dennis yelped, scampering backwards. His attacker howled loudly and then slunk off into the park, trotting on all fours just like a wolf. With a look of panic, his female companion ran back down the hill as fast as she could.
Bitten by a human? The wolf could hardly believe it, still feeling pain from his injured tail. But at least he'd get something out of it. Returning to the empty field a few minutes later, Dennis saw the man's discarded clothes. He'd drag them back to his lair, for he thought there was nothing wrong with stealing from a man who'd attacked him.
Heading back into his burrow with the man's shoes, the wolf felt unusually tired. Was it because he'd been carrying so many things in his mouth? No, this was something else. He no longer felt the pain in his tail, but that's because Dennis couldn't feel anything there at all.
Settling down on the seat cushion in his lair, he felt very queasy. Was it something he'd eaten? Dennis started to shake, like he was stricken by fever. Could he have caught a disease from the human? Surely, no illness, not even rabies, would start this soon after being bitten. Perhaps if he got to sleep for a bit, it would get better.
Late in the morning, rays of sunlight illuminated the front of the wolf's lair. He woke abruptly, feeling very cold. Where was his fur? Staring into his reflection on a hubcap, he saw pale skin, with only a few hairs at the top of his head.
No! How could this happen? Dennis now looked just like the man who'd attacked him during the night. His short, blunt teeth chattered from the cold. Even worse, his muzzle was gone, pushed in flat nearly to his eyes.
Glancing at the image in the shiny metal ring again, he tried to wiggle his ears, but found it wasn't possible. Was he really a human now? It was a horrible curse! Dennis looked exactly like one of them, except that his eyes shone with a ruby-red color.
Thinking about his predicament, he looked at the pile of clothes on the floor of his lair. Perhaps he could go into the city and find out what had happened to him. Attempting to pull the jeans on his legs, he tumbled to the ground, shocked by how much longer his limbs had grown. After a few more tries, he managed to get into the human garment without falling over.
Uneasily stepping out of his lair on two feet, the former wolf put the shoes and socks on. What had he become? Dennis vaguely remembered stories about men who turned into wolves on the night of the full moon. That's what must have happened. He'd been attacked by a werewolf, and was now cursed to be human on the day of the full moon. How awful! He couldn't think of any creature he'd less like to become than a human.
Still, the humans might be the solution to his problem. He'd seen the waitress through the restaurant window a number of times. Perhaps she could help him. After all, she'd been with the werewolf on the previous evening, so she must know something about lycanthropy.
Heading out into the field, he sniffed the morning air and was dismayed to find that it was nearly empty of odor. Humans must live in a world empty of feeling, for he realized they were unable to appreciate all the smells of nature loved by wolves. How Dennis wished he could have his own form back!
Passing the scene of the attack, he saw a bicycle lying next to the oak tree. That's how the werewolf must have arrived in the park! He'd seen many humans riding these vehicles, and figured it must be more enjoyable to sit on one than to plod about on two feet.
After an hour or two, he managed to get his balance on the unwieldy device. Of course, going on two wheels was hardly stranger to him than walking on two legs, like some awkward bird. But it was much better to move in this manner, for the wheels allowed him to careen down the field, making him remember how fast he could run on all fours.
Late in the afternoon, he arrived at the restaurant, getting of the bicycle by the door. Was the waitress there? Would she explain what had happened? Uneasily staggering in the door, he realized that all of the patrons were staring at him.
The waitress approached him, and suddenly grabbed something from the pocket of his jacket. "Wear your sunglasses," she whispered. "With those bloodshot eyes, folks will think you're drunk again. I've even heard there might be some undercover cops around here. The vice squad's supposed to be cracking down on drugs and prostitution."
She then helped him walk to a table in the back of the restaurant, for he found it very hard to keep his balance. How could humans stay upright? The woman seemed very concerned about him, glancing at him every few seconds. Perhaps she was the werewolf's mate.
As they sat down at the back room, the woman asked, "Where have you been all day? I was so worried! After you went after that poor dog, snarling like a beast, I thought the dealer had given you some bad drugs. How do you feel?"
Uncertain how to answer, Dennis replied, "I'm not myself right now."
"Let's head off to my place," she said. "You better move quick or someone might steal your bike. I'll meet you by the front door once I finish some things here."
An hour later, the woman appeared at the door, showing surprise that he was actually waiting there for her. But where else could he go? He'd eaten some of the human food at the restaurant, but found it disagreeable. There was no point in returning to the park, not until he found out what had happened to him.
"What happened then?" she asked. "I thought you were just high on some bad weed, but for a moment I really believed that you were transforming into an animal, like a wolf."
Struggling to understand her words, Dennis answered, "I'm a real wolf."
"Sure. I bet that's what you've told all the other girls. Maybe we can discuss this in my place this evening. Normally, I'd charge, but I'll make an exception tonight."
"Do you have a lover there? Do I have to fight the alpha male to mate with you?" he asked, baring his teeth, under the assumption she was starting a human mating ritual. Where had those words come from? He wasn't sure how he could speak her language.
"What? This wolf stuff must have really gotten to you! We really need to talk."
After sunset, they arrived in her dingy building. Dennis walked up the staircase, seeing shabby red-plush rugs littered about the halls. The woman had already headed up into the room, eager to do something with him there.
Reaching the top of the flight, he saw a naked thigh protruding from the half-open door to the room. He immediately understood this. She wanted to mate right now! He wondered if he could put his observations of human lovers in the forest to practical use.
"I want to see what kind of beast you are," she said coyly. "Did you bring the stuff?"
"What stuff?"
"You know, the stuff you used in the woods last night," she said, removing her bra. "This time, we'll do it together."
Thinking quickly, Dennis replied, "Let's do it now. I want to be a wolf again."
"What about me," she said, rolling over on the bed. "What do you want me to be? What would you call me?"
A stream of human words came unbidden into his mind. Most of them he'd heard in the forest on previous summer nights. "A dirty slut. A filthy whore. A bimbo."
"I didn't know you liked to talk dirty," she said with a smirk. "Let's just do it now, ‘cause I can't believe those drugs would last all day."
She sank onto the bed, moaning and thrusting her buttocks up into the air. As she wailed, he moved forward, trying to recall what the humans did together in the park. It was so peculiar. Then, the clock tower suddenly chimed, tolling ten times.
The noise from the bells reverberated in his ears, making him want to howl. He lifted his head back and bayed, making as much sound as possible. His sunglasses slipped down as he tilted his jaw back, revealing eyes rimmed with blazing fire.
Nervous, the woman moved back, grabbing her clothes together. Why was she doing that? As he stopped howling, he realized that he should show her he was in charge here.
"Stop that!" she yelled. "What are you doing!"
"I'm just marking my territory. Only alphas in the pack are allowed to mate."
"It's disgusting! I've had enough of your crazy wolf ideas. If you start howling again, the cops might show up. The madam said the vice squad came by earlier today."
"Should I mount you now? Humans seem to be much quicker than wolves . . ."
Before he finished speaking, the woman hastily put on her clothing and rushed to the door. Dennis followed slowly, dropping to all fours and pointing his nose at her rear end. With a look of disgust, the woman raced down the stairs and bolted outside.
Somewhat disappointed, the wolf-man put his sunglasses back on and followed her outside. What had he done wrong? Humans were so hard to figure out.
Once he entered the street, he saw no trace of the wench, but found that three men were rapidly approaching him. Was it a human pack? They all wore expensive, flashy clothes, studded with jewelry. Their hats and shoes also looked pricey.
The three men surrounded him, attempting to look menacing. "Let's talk," said the most seedy looking of the three, a swarthy man with a big mustache.
"About what?" Dennis replied, wondering if they were friends of the woman.
"Don't be foolish," replied an angry man to his left, who had a beet-red nose and square shoulders. His breath stank of alcohol.
"Head in there," added the swarthy man, as they passed a bar. "Right now!"
The former wolf went into the tavern, curious at what he might find there. This adventure was becoming more and more curious. You could never what humans might do.
Trying to recall what they did in such places, something jumped into his mind, "Do you want to play a card game? How about poker?," Dennis asked, sitting down on a stool.
"Cards!" grunted the red-nosed man. "I'd throw ‘em in your face and shove your jaw in!"
"Oh? My jaw's already been shoved in today. Perhaps you could shove it out."
"Enough!" exclaimed the swarthy man. "I wanna talk about what you did with that girl. You pissed all over her room! Is that any way to treat a lady? I heard you didn't even pay!"
"Oh? I guess you must be her pimps. I'm afraid I don't really know how treat your women, for I've never been with a human female before," he said, laughing for a moment.
"That faggot's makin' fun of us," said the red nosed man. "Let's show him!"
"First, we've got business," continued the swarthy man. "We've really gotta talk about your dealings with our whore. You're gonna pay for what you did."
"So, I need to beat up your pack," Dennis concluded, putting his sunglasses in his pocket. Glaring back at them with red eyes, he growled deep in his throat.
The third man in the group, who had been silent while the swarthy and red-nosed men talked, began to crack his knuckles. He then lifted his hand and extended his middle finger. Dennis tried to figure out what this might mean, concluding it was some form of human greeting.
He better respond in kind. Imitating the gesture, he pointed his finger at the swarthy man. However, before he could say anything, a bottle came flying across a bench, hurled by the red-nosed man at his head. Ducking quickly, he saw the glass shatter as the bottle crashed into a wall. The bar quickly emptied, as the three men began to attack him.
A brawl soon developed, but the human pack was incompetent, hitting each other with shards of glass more often than him. The battle continued for a while, but he found it was easy to dodge their blows, for all three seemed to be quite drunk. Or perhaps they were on drugs?
A little while later, he heard the clock tower chiming again, for it was eleven at night. The three men were sprawled under a bench, for he'd pushed them there after knocking them out in the fight. Looking in the broken mirror, he saw that his collar was torn, deep cuts dripped blood on his cheeks, and black-and-blue marks shone beneath his eyes. Not good to look at, but Dennis recalled how much he hated looking like a human even when uninjured.
Hearing the eleventh chime, he wondered what would happen if he got back to the park by midnight. Perhaps he could become a wolf again! Throwing his sunglasses back on, so as not to alarm any humans he might meet, he grabbed a bicycle lying by the bar's entrance and sped off.
Half an hour later, he raced up to a bridge over the river, in the middle of the worst part of the city. He hurried onward, eager to get back to the park. Even though many of the streetlights were broken, he had no trouble seeing, due to the full moon and his keen eyesight.
On the far side of the bridge, a policeman on a motorcycle stopped him, saying "Why don't you have a light on your vehicle."
"What?" Dennis replied, perplexed by the human's question. "Why should I have one? I can see just fine at night."
"How can you see?" asked the officer. "It's the middle of the night and you're wearing dark sunglasses! Why are you in such a hurry? One would think you were in a bike race."
"I am in a race! I need to get to the park really fast. You're slowing me down!"
"You're trying to make fun of me!" exclaimed the cop. "You're not going anywhere until I find out what you've been doing. Take off those glasses so I can see your eyes."
"I'm not making jokes. I'm really in a rush, because I must get there before midnight."
"You think I'm arresting you for speeding?" asked the bewildered cop. "That you can just leave after paying a fine? I want you to tell me what's going on here. Are drugs . . ."
"I could tell you about a lot of things. Whores. Pimps . . ."
"So, you are ready to cooperate," said the policeman, "I'll write down all the details."
The officer lowered his head for a moment, as he took a notepad out of a tray with a ball-point pen. Once he was ready to write, he started, "Tell me your first name . . . "
But the suspect was gone! Dennis was speeding away on the bicycle, racing into a storm drain by the river. Before vanishing into the drain, he raised his right hand, extending his middle finger at the policeman, for Dennis had concluded this was the normal way to greet humans.
Ignoring the water flowing at the bottom of the drain, he pedaled frantically, desperate to get to the park by midnight. In record time, Dennis zoomed across town, for his bicycle could pass under all the big roads in the storm drain. Before long, he emerged next to the restaurant, not far from the park. Could he get back to the field by midnight?
Heading up the bumpy path at top speed, he heard sirens beyond him, as several police cars and motorcycles arrived in front of the restaurant. Why was the sound so clear? His hearing seemed to be growing more acute. Then, he saw black fur erupting on his arms. He was reverting into lupine form!
Far away, down in the city, the clock tower began to chime. It was midnight! His legs began to shorten, so they could no longer reach the pedals of the bicycle. Still, the wheels continued to spin from inertia, rolling up the rocky road through the park.
Passing a small pond, he saw his image in the water. As his muzzle pushed out and ears became pointed, he was overjoyed to no longer be human. However, Dennis could not keep his balance on the bicycle, tumbling off into a thicket as he rounded a curve.
As the wolf moved into the bushes, glad to be free of the uncomfortable human clothing, a police motorcycle raced up the park road. With a loud clang, it smashed into the bicycle, now sitting empty on the gravel path. As Dennis trotted back to his lair, relieved to have his own form back, he could hear the policeman cursing, angry at the damage to his vehicle.
The next morning, Dennis awoke, glad to find that all of his black fur was back. It was so awful to be a human! They were so violent, fighting each other for no good reason. He remembered what he'd done in the bar, assuming that the rage must have been produced by the curse, for no sensible wolf would get involved in a squabble with a deranged pack of humans.
Looking outside, he saw a number of men in uniforms. Several police cars were still parked near the restaurant, while a banged-up motorcycle sat in the middle of the field. Dennis ducked back into his lair as an officer walked nearby, talking into a device:
"Narcotics Division reporting. We finally caught him! He must have run off into the woods after he ditched the bike. But that's not all. He was naked and growling, just like a dog. I hate to think what would happen if some kids got those drugs his friends were selling. The hooker says it wrecked his mind, so she's willing to testify. I just hope it doesn't happen . . . "
Moving away, Dennis lost interest in what the humans were saying. Would it happen again? When the full moon arrived next month, would he become a human again? The prospect of undergoing such a terrible metamorphosis again caused him to shake with fear. How could he continue to live, cursed to transform into a foul creature so dominated by rage and madness?