1672.

After thoroughly washing his shirt out in the creek near the woods, Richard Graves quickly wrung the excess water out of it, slipped it back on, and bounded back down the hill into the town. His firm footing kept him from slipping as he rushed through the town, finally approaching the town hall. Making sure that everything was in its proper place, he heaved a deep breath in through his lungs and entered the building.

The Governor of this colony was currently seated at his desk, writing out a long manuscript for the town officials to carry out in the near future. Richard looked around the room before coming in—no one in sight; no one except him and the Governor. He smiled evilly.

Perfect.

Clearing his throat, he announced his presence. "Um…Mr. Governor, my liege?"

The Governor looked up from his paperwork, slightly startled, then immediately came to his senses. He was a round man, with a balding head, hair as white as snow and a thick, bushy mustache. He straightened the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose. "Yes?" he asked, his voice deep and official. "How may I help you, young man?"

"My name is Richard Graves, Sir," the young man replied, stepping into the room timidly. "I have recently come over on the ship Jonah and—"

"Ah, an immigrant!" The Governor rose from his seat and gestured Richard toward him. "Come, come, my boy, have a seat!" He sat back down in his chair. "I am ascertaining that you have come to fill our your legal documents, have you not?"

Richard nodded. "Indeed, Sir," he replied; his evil smile then returned as he slowly arose from his seat. "And I also come asking you a favor. Asking you…an opportunity."

The Governor laughed heartily. "Ho, ho! My dear boy, you have not yet been in this town a day and you're already demanding me offers? You apparently do not know how the government system works around these parts, young man."

"And you do not know how I work." Richard's eyes narrowed, their icy-blue color seeming to freeze the Governor where he sat. "I am making you an offer that cannot be refused. And I will not take 'no' for an answer. You are lucky that you are even worthy in the first place to become one of mine."

"This is intolerable!" The Governor rose in his seat, his face reddening in anger. "Who are you to give me orders? And what do you mean by becoming 'one of yours'?"

Richard crawled atop the desk on all fours; his eyes blinked, taking on a bright blue-ish glow. He stared directly into the Governor's eyes as he hissed, in a throaty voice: "You'll find out soon enough, Sir. Soon enough."

And with that, he opened his mouth, exposing rows upon rows of razor-sharp fangs, and prepared to plunge them down into the petrified Governor's neck…

THE PACK

By Grand High Idol

III.

"Wow," Bloo laughed as both boys climbed out of the lake, Mac wiping his wet and sandy hair with a beach-towel. "That was fun."

"Not as fun as going swimming back home, but it's still kinda fun nonetheless." Mac smiled at his best friend. "You know, Bloo, I have to admit that I'm glad you came along. This place would be really lonely without you."

Bloo's smile brightened. "Do you really mean that?"

"Really." Mac smiled in return.

"Really really?"

"Yes, really really." Mac looked toward the west side of town, where a bunch of lights were flickering on and off. "Huh…I wonder what's going on over there that's so important."

"I heard some kid on the beach say that there was something going on over there tonight," Bloo responded, swiping Mac's towel in order to dry himself off. "Some kind of popular rock concert or something. All the rage with the teens…or whatever."

"Speaking of teens…" Mac swiped the towel back from Bloo and wrapped it around his shoulders, still staring out at the flickering lights. "Where'd Terrence get to? Mom said to us that we should both be back before dark."

"I'll bet the idiot's already home," Bloo replied, shrugging carelessly. "At least you've got me, but that lunkhead's got no one." He smiled callously. "I guess it serves him right for all the times he's picked on you, Mac."

Mac's smile faded. "Bloo, that's being a little too harsh, don't you think?" he asked. "The only reason Terrence is mad at me is because I created you to begin with." He stopped to think for a moment. "At least, I think that was the cause. Now I'm not so sure." He sighed and placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Ever since Mom made me get rid of you, things have been so…well…confusing…"

Bloo placed a blobby hand on Mac's. "Yeah, I know," he replied, smiling weakly. "But things worked out in the end, didn't they? I mean, if it weren't for her, we'd never have met Wilt, Frankie, Ed, and all of our other new friends."

Mac returned the smile. "Yeah. I guess good things can come out of bad, can't they?"

Bloo nodded. "And no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend ever. Nothing could ever change that."

Mac sniffed a little, then reached out to hug his best friend—only to be abruptly and rather rudely pushed away. "Whoa! Okay, okay, I meant what I said, Mac, but that's getting waaaaaayyyy too close." He dusted himself off, then looked toward the cabin. "Wow…that really was a short walk."

Mac sighed, then shook his head and looked up toward the cabin along with Bloo. "Yeah…I guess time flies when you're having fun," he sighed. He began to head up toward the cabin steps. "Come on, Bloo, we've got to get you inside."

"But how?" Bloo asked. "Remember, I'm not exactly an invisible imaginary friend, you know!"

"I know," he exclaimed. "I'll think of something, just—quick—" He grabbed Bloo and, within a matter of seconds, had draped the blob-shaped imaginary friend over his shoulders. Steadying himself, he continued: "Okay, now just close your eyes and don't breathe at all. With luck, Mom will think that you're my beach towel or something."

"That, without a doubt, has to be the dumbest idea I've ever—" Bloo began to protest, but Mac quickly slapped his hand over his imaginary friend's mouth—and just in time, too; Mac's mother had appeared at the edge of the porch and was looking for her son; when she spotted him, she quickly ran toward him.

"Mac, sweetie!" she exclaimed, giving him a quick hug before persuading to look him over. "Oh, are you all right? I told you the consequences of going out after dark! Nothing attacked you? Nothing bit you or scratched you?"

Mac laughed and tried to pry out of her grasp. "Mom, I'm just fine, thanks," he replied. "Now, please, Mom, let me inside. It's cold and you're squishing my beach towel."

"Oh…your beach towel." Mac's mother immediately ended the hug, then straightened herself up. She eyed the little boy suspiciously. "That's funny…I could have been positive that I've seen a beach towel that color somewhere before…."

"Nope, you've never seen anything like this!" Mac exclaimed and, without no further ado, and before his mother could ask another question, he ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. Mac's mother was left befuddled.

"Bloo, I want you to stay here until all further notice."

The two best friends were now standing inside Mac's bedroom, Bloo sitting on the bed, Mac standing in front of him. The little boy had barely made his escape past his mother, and Terrence…he hadn't seen him since that afternoon when their mother told him to go out and make some new friends. He scoffed at this remark; Terrence making friends other than Rusty made just about as much sense as Herriman dealing out fair chores. The little boy was trying his hardest to keep Bloo a secret; the little blob, on the other hand, had other plans.

"Sure, okay—" The blob stopped, then his eyes narrowed in utmost annoyance. "What? Hey, wait a minute!"

"I'm sorry, Bloo, but it's the only way I know how. Mom could come up and see you, and then I'll get in seriously big trouble."

"Mac—!" Bloo began, but his words were drowned out when Mac threw the blanket on top of him. Heaving a sigh of relief, he began to change into his regular clothing and, still pulling his shirt on, began to run out the door to the stairs.

"Just keep quiet!" the little boy called out to him from the landing. "I'll be back really soon!"

Bloo yanked the blanket off his head, then, annoyed, jumped down from the bed and began to examine the room. Finally, bored to death, he got back up on the bed and presumed his evening of lounging.

Mac, meanwhile, had run down the stairs and had entered the kitchen, where his mother was busy preparing for dinner. It had been a long time since Mac had seen her cook—and with such good grace, too! He was glad that she was happier—so, he guessed, everyone won. Except Terrence, which led him to ask:

"Mom?"

Mac's mother looked up from the stove, where a pot of was supposedly beef stew was simmering. "Yes, what is it, hon?"

Mac looked around the kitchen, then finally asked, "Where's Terrence? I haven't seen him all evening. Shouldn't he have been home by now?"

"Oh, Terrence?" She sighed. "I got a call on my cell about an hour ago—he said he was going to a rock concert with some friends. And after I strictly told him not to go out after dark—" She growled. "He is going to be in so much trouble when he gets home."

"Why do I have a feeling he's in trouble already?" Mac asked himself, looking down at the floor…

"The Dead walk among us

Rising from the grave slowly, they become us

There is no escape

From the dead of yesterday!

D-d-d-d-dead of yes-tar-day!"

It had taken awhile, but Re-Animation had finally heated up, and the people in the audience—mostly people in their early to late teens—were beginning to really get wild. Amongst the crowd, Terrence, Rick, and the others were joining the "festivity", taking part in the known form of worship that was rock and roll.

"Man, these guys are off the hook!" Corey exclaimed over the roar of the music. He turned to the others. "See, I told you this would be fun! Never doubt it—Corey Alli is always right!"

"Amen, brotha!" Gary exclaimed; the two of them then slapped palms and howled.

Terrence was enjoying the concert as well, even though one thing seemed to bother him: Rodney was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he hadn't seen Rodney since he had caught him talking to Rick earlier, during the band warm-ups. There was no question; he had to know, and Rick seemed to be the only one who had any clue as to Rodney's whereabouts. Pushing his way through the crowd of excited teens, he approached Rick, who was dancing to the beat, his tongue hanging out to one side like a dog's. When Terrence tapped him on the shoulder, he ceased his dancing and immediately became serious.

"Yeah?" he asked, straightening his leather jacket. "What is it, Terr? This is my favorite song by these guys."

"Yeah, I know." Terrence rubbed the back of his head, then scanned the crowd one last time before asking: "Where the hell is Rodney? I thought he said he'd be here."

"Oh, Rodney?" Rick stopped for a moment to ponder, then nodded and pointed toward the woods. "He said he had to go use the facilities. Take a leak." He looked out toward the darkened forest, a concerned look creasing his brow. "Although…he was supposed to be back by now…"

"So why isn't he? What the fuck is going on?" Terrence folded his arms. "It doesn't take twenty minutes to take a leak, man."

"You think I don't know that?" Rick asked crossly. "Look, if you're so concerned about Rodney, why don't you go into the forest and check on him yourself?"

"No way!" Terrence replied crossly. "I'm not going out there! I wouldn't go out there if you paid me!"

Rick shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. "Well, then, if you're going to be all chicken-shit about it, then I guess there's really no reason for us to even care, now, huh?"

Terrence was taken aback. "I am not a chicken!" he exclaimed angrily. "I could go out into those damn woods anytime I friggin' wanted to!"

"Then go check on Rodney." Rick raised an eyebrow. "Go out there if you think you're so brave. Believe me, you won't miss a minute of the action."

"Rick—" Theo, who was standing in the crowd adjacent to them, began to protest, but Rick held up his hand, silencing her.

"Go on out," he told Terrence, giving Theo a gentle shove backward; she folded her arms and shot him an angry leer but did not bother to speak. "We'll fill you in on all the details once you and Rodney get back."

The raven-haired teen stood there for a moment, not sure of what exactly to do, then he finally threw his hands in the air. "Fine," he replied, the miffed tone still clearly recognizable in his voice. "I'll go out. But you owe me big time after this."

"I'll keep that in mind." Rick pointed toward the direction of the woods. "Now go on, go get Rodney. It'll only take a few minutes, I promise."

"Whatever," Terrence muttered; he then turned around and began to push his way through the crowd, heading toward the direction of the pitch-black woods that loomed over the empty lot.

"Rodney?"

Terrence's call echoed through the emptiness of the woods as he continued to walk through the area, looking for any sign of life. The full moon shone down overhead, illuminating the area; not a creature was present, not even a single bird. The teen found this very peculiar; usually at night there would at least be one raccoon about…

He cupped his hands to his mouth and called again. "Hey, Rodney!"

No response. He sighed, and then kicked a stray twig angrily. "Oh, what the hell is the use?" he muttered to himself. "The guy's obviously not going to answer me—these woods are freaking huge!" He thought for a moment. "But then again, he only needed to take a leak…it would've been stupid for him to go too far into the woods…"

He attempted one last call. "Rod—neeeeeee!"

Once again, there was no response; only the rustling of the leaves and the sound of his echo. Growling angrily, he called out, "Fine, man, if you want to be stupid, stay out there. See if I care." He turned around toward the direction of the lot. "Screw you. I'm going back."

He had only gone a few steps when he finally heard something other than his own footsteps—a low, threatening growling noise, and not one of human origin. A cold chill running down his spine like freezing water, he whipped around in hopes to locate the source of the noise.

He saw nothing. Biting his lower lip nervously, he rubbed his arm and slowly began to back up, keeping a close eye on the woodland in front of him. Unfortunately, this was proven to be a mistake, for no sooner had he begun to turn around then a monstrous creature lunged from the shadows, landing directly in front of him.

Terrence wanted to run, wanted to scream, but he was frozen in place. He backed up against a tree as the creature—an enormous wolf—approached him, head lowered, teeth bared menacingly. Its blue eyes flashed angrily, boring into his gray ones as it ran its tongue over its lips. Saliva dripped from its mouth like a leaky faucet, making dark impressions on the dirt below.

It took another step closer, still snarling; Terrence could now feel the creature's hot breath on his face. He whimpered and turned his head away, eyes closed, quaking like a leaf. For a select few moments he and the wolfen creature remained completely still, the area completely silent except for their breathing…

The wolf was the first to strike. Emitting a vicious barking sound, it lunged forward, knocking the teen away from the tree and to the ground, and opened its mouth, exposing rows of razor-sharp fangs—fangs that had a suspicious glint of silver on the upper row. Terrence was suspicious of this, but he didn't have much time to think, for no sooner had the wolf opened its mouth than it had plunged its teeth directly into the teen's back.

Terrence gave a scream of agony as the wolf began tearing at his flesh and clothing, clawing, biting, snarling, drooling…he quickly came to his senses and, despite the pain, scrambled out from under the monster's massive form and leapt to his feet. Without giving it any second thought, he began to run; he heard the creature's mighty howl of rage, followed by its pursuing footsteps as it charged after him. He gave a whine of fear and lowered his head, forcing himself to run faster—he had to if he ever hoped to lose the beast…

He would have succeeded, too, if it weren't for the fact that there was a small ravine not too far from the area where he had first encountered the beast and was too terrified to watch for anything. Yelping, he lost his balance and fell into the ravine, landing rather hard on his already flayed back. He gritted his teeth, several tears of pain escaping from his eyes, as the wolf approached the edge of the ravine, then leapt in after him.

"Oh God, NO!" Terrence screamed, frantically trying to claw his way out, but the wolf had pinned him down with a massive paw and was preparing to finish him off. Trembling, the teen shielded his eyes, preparing for the creature to deliver the coupe de gras—

BLAM!

A spray of hot blood splashed across his face; he opened his mouth in shock as the creature's eyes widened, and a weak cry escaped its lips. It swayed back and forth for a few seconds before finally collapsing to the ground; judging by the huge bullet-wound in its head, it was obviously dead. Gasping in a mixture of pain, fright, and relief, Terrence backed away from the dead animal as a lone figure appeared over the edge of the ravine, rifle in hand. Even though it was still quite dark, the teen could see the man's bright orange jacket: a hunter.

The man lowered his rifle and slid down into the ravine, then examined the cadaver before turning his attention on Terrence. His eyes widened in shock; he apparently hadn't noticed that the teen had been there to begin with.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed; he then ran over to the teen's side and knelt down beside him. "Are you okay, kid?"

Terrence was still quaking as the man reached over to help him up; he gave a cry of pain as the man's hands touched his torn back. "Gah!…Yeah, yeah, I—I'm okay. Actually, you…you saved my life back there." He shakily got to his feet, then dusted himself off. "I…well…thanks."

The man frowned as he caught sight of Terrence's back, along with the blood that had come off on his hand in his effort to help the teen up. "Are you positive that you're okay?" he asked, concerned. "You look pretty torn up back there. Maybe I should call the local hospital or something—"

"No!" Terrence blurted out, he then clapped his hand to his mouth before calmly continuing, "Look, I shouldn't have been out here in the first place. I was supposed to be at the Re-Animation concert near the empty lot…I was looking for a friend, is all. A tall guy with braces and dark brown hair. You…you haven't seen him around, have you?"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he replied, he then abruptly changed the subject. "Look, whether you like it or not, you need medical attention. If you don't want me to help, at least let me take you home." He began to climb out of the ravine, Terrence following behind. "Now, kid, where is it that you live?"

"The outskirts," the teen replied, heaving himself out of the ravine. "About a five-minute walk from the soda fountain. But…I don't exactly think that I can…"

"It's okay." The man immediately knew what he was getting at. "My truck isn't too far from here—I parked it over near one of the woodland paths. I can take you home in that, if that's okay with you."

"It's fine." Terrence followed the man, trying his best to ignore the pain that was shooting through his every nerve with each step he took. Damn wolves…

Mac and his mother were right in the middle of dinner when there was a knock on the door. Mac attempted to go up and get it, but his mother approached the door first. Gesturing Mac to go back to the dinner table, she opened the door.

The hunter and Terrence both stood on the steps, Terrence wrapped in a fleece throw blanket and shivering in fright, the hunter standing next to him, hands behind his back. Needless to say, the boys' mother didn't exactly remain calm over the situation.

"Oh, dear God!" she exclaimed, reaching out to pull her elder son into the house. She looked up toward the man. "What on Earth happened to him? Is he all right?"

The man shook his head. "'Fraid not, ma'am—he was attacked by a wild animal out in the woods a little while earlier. A wolf. Damn biggest wolf I've ever seen in my life, too." He sighed. "The damage isn't serious—I looked him over before we got into the truck—but his back's torn up pretty badly. You might want to treat him before his wounds get infected."

"I'll do that." She nodded her head. "And…thank you so much for bringing him back. It was a very kind gesture."

"No problem." The man nodded, then turned around. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a wolf cadaver to pick up in the woods. Hope your son turns out okay."

He then descended down the stairs and got into his truck. As he drove off, the boys' mother turned Terrence to face her, a cross expression on her face.

"Terrence Kraigen!" she snapped angrily. "I specifically told both you and Mac not to go out after dark! Yet you strictly disobeyed my orders, and now look where it's gotten you!" She sighed and shook her head. "Oh, Terrence…why can't you be more well-behaved like your brother is?"

Terrence was struck by these words, but did not show it. Instead, he merely glared at her and, throwing the fleece blanket off, began to ascend up the stairs to the second story. The boys' mother watched him as he departed, then sighed and placed a hand to her temples, shaking her head.

"I know that he didn't want to come here, but…" She sighed. "Oh, what am I going to do with him? Ever since his father died he's been acting like this…"

She then left in the direction of the living room—unaware that Mac, who had been hiding behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the front hall, had heard everything. Biting his lower lip nervously, he quickly rushed upstairs after his brother.