Part 3: A man…

The forest was eerily quiet and she realized that she had forgotten to breath. Her eyes stared at the fallen creature. Through the fractured light of the moon through the tree leaves she couldn't make out much but it was enough to cause a whole new bombardment of fear to percolate through her brain. She could make out a chest, not one covered in fur but a chest covered in smooth pink flesh. A chest of a man, a chest that had six gaping holes seeping blood. Hearing Brute whimper at her feet broke her out of her temporary mental shut-down. She squatted and struggled lifting the hefty dog but the adrenaline in her system kicked into full gear. She stared at the fallen creature once more and then hurried to the cabin looking over her shoulder in fright. She fumbled with the door leaving blood caked on the doorknob. She placed Brute down on the nook table and stared at his wounds. He had slashes several inches long on his sides. Angry claw marks and bites of something ferocious and blood thirsty.

"That couldn't have been a man; no. a man can't do this..." She said. She ran to the kitchen and opened a draw. She hurriedly fished through its contents, spilling supplies on the floor until she found her field med kit. She knew how to dress a humans wounds and she hoped to god it would work on an animal. She sanitized the wound the best she could while not taking the time to shave the area. She went about the task of dressing the wound while quietly talking to the whimpering animal and telling him it'll be alright, she tried to be genuine enough to set her own fears aside. Once she was finished she watched his chest heave with each breath. Her hands shook violently and she stared at the coagulating blood that coated them.

"Brute…please hang in there…" She whispered. A chilling Wail of a whimper echoed through the forest and crept into her cabin. She whirled around at the sound but found nothing. She covered her mouth with her hand and blood smeared her tanned face. Fear had taken over her body. She ran her bloody hands through her hair and waited beside Brute, unsure of what to do. The same whimper erupted from the woods but this time it was more pleading, more sorrowful, desperate even. Her mind continued to reel. What if she was wrong, what if she was mistaken and something else had caused brutes wounds. What if she had killed a man in cold blood? What if he wasn't dead and she had left him to suffer?

"God..." she said in a rush. She shook her head and quickly grabbed the flash light next to the woodpile in the kitchen. She then rushed upstairs and grabbed the blanket off her bed. Bounding down the stairs she burst through the front door and ran for the tree line. Light rain erupted into a downpour shattering the light from her flashlight. Her adrenaline flooded brain couldn't remember the exact spot she had seen the man fall. She searched for a few minutes before she came across a foot sticking out from under some undergrowth. She froze, shivering as the cold rain finished the task of saturating every piece of clothes she had on. Swallowing hard she stepped closer. She shrunk back when she heard the shrilling whimper followed by a groan and a gargled intake. Hesitantly she parted the foliage and her eyes made there way up from his foot. It didn't take long for her to notice he was completely naked and covered in a thick layer of filth. Her eyes made its way up his hairy body to his chest. She watched as his chest shuddered and slowly moved up and down even with 6 bullets lodged inside. Her eyes moved past his chest and to its face. Long Jet black hair swirled around him and covered his features. Taking a deep breath she spread the blanket out on the ground beside him.

"Stay calm, please stay calm..." She whispered like a prayer then attempted to roll the forest man onto the spread blanket. Upon contact he immediately began to struggle, sluggishly flailing his arms and biting at the air. She scooted back but not before he grabbed a handful of her overalls in his massive fist. She stifled a scream replacing it with pleads for him to calm down.

"I just want to help…let me help you!" His hand shook and his grip lost its strength. His hand fell limp at his side and his body relaxed. She stared again and breathed, pushing her brown soaked hair out of her eyes. She tried again to roll him onto the blanket and this time he didn't put up a fight. Once on the blanket she walked to his feet and gathered up the excess blanket in her hands. She tugged aggressively but her heels sunk into the mud and she went nowhere.

"Come on!" She spat through gritted teeth. She pulled again this time using her whole body weight and digging her heels in. The blanket slowly began to slide in her direction and she continued back. The process was slow and she wondered how one man could be so heavy, but then again she wondered how one man could take so many bullets in the chest and still be alive. She tripped and fell a few times but she didn't stay down long. She made it to the front stairs and it took every ounce of her strength to drag and push him up the three stone steps. She drug him inside and in front of the fireplace. She'd never seen bullet wounds on a human but something in the back of her mind told her they shouldn't look so neat. She pushed that revelation to the farthest recesses of her mind and focused on cleaning and dressing his wounds.

"I...I think I have to remove the bullets first...right?" She said to herself but she was already up and searching for the med kit she left next to Brute. She hurried over to the fire place and squatted. She placed the fireplace poker into the flames mumbling about cauterizing the wounds when she heard something outside of the norm. Her back went ridged and she listened on. The sound wasn't too unfamiliar but was a sound that shouldn't be coming from behind her. The sound was indicative to the disgusting sound of gutting an animal. The wet retched sound of pushing the flesh back and removing it's innards before it's cooked. Her stomach lurched as the smell of blood and death crept up her nostrils. She slowly turned and by the flickering red and orange light of the fireplace she saw something outside of what science could explain. The skin on his chest had turned a deep shade of purple and was stretched tight. The six bullet holes puckered painfully while the veins spider-webbed just under the surface of his skin. She watched wide-eyed as bloody metal poked through the gaping holes one by one. The bullets pushed out by some force she couldn't explain, finally popping out of the cavernous holes in his chest and rolling down onto the blanket.

"What the hell..." She whispered falling back onto her rear and then scooting as far away from the fireplace and as far away from him as possible. She watched as his bruised flesh began to knit back together, the holes becoming smaller and smaller and the stringy severed nerves reaching out for each other before fusing. Her stomach lurched again but this time she couldn't keep it down and she vomited onto the floor. Breathing heavy and wiping her mouth she closed her eyes to the scene. She heard a throaty moan and a shuffle and her breath hitched. Was this demon awake? Was he really moving? She opened her eyes and watched the demon bury himself deeper into the blanket and then slothfully drag himself closer to the fire to curl up in a tight ball. Each breath was a whimper and his long dark hair where like tendrils splayed around his head. It wasn't long before he quieted and his only movement was his chest rising and falling. Heather had backed herself into the corner by the front door and she watched him with squinted eyes. She gripped her pistol so hard her knuckles were white. She bit her lip, wondering what to do and wiping away the frantic tears that sprang to her eyes. Should she get up and leave, run to her car and just leave? Could she leave after shooting a man? Was he a man? She had to take Brute with her but would he attack her if she got close? She shot someone…that's a crime right? Her mind wouldn't stop whirling.

A few hours slipped by and she hadn't moved. She was far too afraid to, far to scared of the consequences. She'd leave and go where? To the next town? It was an hour away and she didn't know anyone…who would she tell? Who would believe such a story?

The sun was rising and light was pouring into the old cabin. Light through the window shown directly on the table Brute was recovering on and he began to make a fuss as his slumber was disturbed. He whimpered and breathed heavy causing the demonic lump of man-creature on the floor to stir with agitation.

"Quiet Brute" She mumbled to herself. She had to act or Brute would wake that creature from his hibernation and god only knew what he'd do to them. She slowly stood and with hesitant steps tiptoed across the floor with her gun still gripped tight in her hand. She froze as the floor boards squealed. She could still hear him breathing but it had changed from deep and loud to quiet and reserved. She knew he was awake, she just hoped he'd keep pretending to be asleep. Maybe, just maybe he was just as scared of her as she was of him. She continued her trek to Brute even slower this time. She made it to the nook table and began to rub the distraught animal and he immediately hushed and fell back into a healing sleep. She was only a few feet away from the creature she had shot and then saved the night before. With hesitation and against her better judgment she unglued her hold on her pistol, engaged the safety and put the gun in her overall pocket. She gingerly lifted Brute never taking her eyes away from the motionless bundle on the floor. She wondered how she had run with such a heavy burden the night before seeing as how she could barely even walk with his weight this time. She breathed out, bit her lip and shuffled forward with brute limp in her arms. She quietly shuffled into the kitchen and frantically looked for her car keys. She spotted them on the cutting board against the wall. She awkwardly picked them up around the dead weight animal in her arms. Suddenly the floorboards behind her gave warning. She froze in place and hot moist breath blew against the back of her neck. His shadow loomed over her and the pungent musk of his body engulfed her. She closed her eyes waiting for the inevitable…but nothing happened. Opening her eyes she slowly turned around wishing she could reach for her gun but she couldn't hold brute with just one arm. Her eyes were chest level to the man and she noticed that the sour looking wounds from the night before were long gone and the only thing left were red whelps. She let her eyes rise beyond his powerful chest and to his face and she cried out at his immediate growl when their eyes connected. She immediately looked down but his face was a photograph in her mind. He had searing eyes the color of coal and long sharp canines that had become overgrown like a dogs. His breath stunk of rotting meat and his dark hair fanned around his shoulders like the mane of a lion. He had a stocky dense frame, broad barrel chest, wide set shoulders and a tapered waist. His legs looked powerful with every muscle well defined. His arms were thick and beefy with rippling muscle and his fingers were chunky and stumpy like sausages. He bent at the waist and roughly smelled her hair and then bent even further to smell Brute. He vehemently snorted out their scents then stood back to his full height eerily staring at her with unwavering eyes.

"I…I'm sorry I shot you…" She said quietly and he bent at the waist to watch her mouth move as she spoke. His head tilted to the side and a growl rumbled in his chest.

"You frightened me, I'm sorry…Please…" She said looking up but he immediately growled at her and snapped at her like a wild dog. She yelped and looked down again. Her slightly damp hair drooped forward into her face and she hoped her tangled bangs would hide the defiant raise of her eyes. She noticed something silver hanging around his neck. Dogtags? She read the name to herself.

"Wolverine?..." She whispered and he immediately froze. She meekly looked up to see his dark pupil's dilate and his lips curl back into a snarl. His features grew even more sinister and dangerous and he erupted into a blood curdling roar. He raised a balled fist to strike her, breath shot from his nostrils like an angry bull. She screamed at his sudden change of mood. He brought his powerful fist down but she lunged to the side and out of his reach. She landed heavy on her hip and Brute was jarred from her grasp. His heavy fist collided with the cast iron stove denting it. She looked up from the floor watching in dread as he pulled his mangled hand from the stove and watched it knit back together with not so much as a grimace. She shuffled on the floor hysterically reaching in her pocket for her pistol but it wasn't there. She looked to her left to find the gun had fallen out of her pocket and lay precariously by her attacker's hairy feet. She looked between the gun and the still unconscious Brute. She knew she had to make a decision, leave Brute behind of die trying to take him with her. She gave up on the gun and with her keys clutched tight in her hand she scrambled to her feet and ran out of the kitchen past the stairs and out the front door. She nearly tripped down the three stone stairs in her haste. The bottoms of her bare feet became bruised and lacerated on the sharp rocks as she ran. The sun was brutal and the heat nearly took her breath away. She ran as fast as she could but she could still feel his presence gaining on her and hear the primal rhythm of his controlled breathing. She speedily opened the door to her old Chevy pick up and hopped in slamming it shut. She promptly locked the door in a feeble attempt at protection. She fumbled with the keys trying to put the right one in the ignition but her hands shook making the simple task almost impossible. She looked up to find the creature only a few feet away but he looked hesitant to come any closer. He was foaming at the mouth and stalking the vehicle with caution. Seeing him so close caused her to shake even more violently but she finally found the right key. The Car stuttered to life and the beast shrunk back, confused and alarmed by the cars whirring engine. The car chugged forward, struggling to pick up speed. With animal fury the beast launched himself at the vehicle landing hard on the hood. She screamed and mashed the gas, sending the car flying over the uneven ground toward the tree line at an unheard of speed. He held onto the car with one hand, denting the car hood to make a grip. His hair swirled around him and his eyes turned stony and lifeless as he revved back his other burly fist. Time seemed to slow down as she watched with morbid fixation as the skin between his knuckles protrude and then split giving way to long pieces of sharp metal that glinted in the sun. Her memory flashed back to the claw marks on Brute. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets and her lips quivered. The claws finished slipping into place, long metal claws, like swords coming out of his fist. Several inches of cold death ready to shatter the windshield and skewer her. She pleaded with her eyes, hers staring into the steely black eyes of what her mind had aptly named "Wolverine the forest-man-thingy". He growled but she didn't look away. He cocked his head at her defiance and abruptly gathered his legs underneath himself and leapt off the speeding vehicle. With him out of the way she could see the tree she was about to wrap her car around. She screamed out covering her face with her arms and mashing on the break but it was far too late. Her life in Chicago flashed before her eyes before she hit.

To Be Continued---

Tell me what you think… J