~Yesterday~
He felt it that morning.
It was going to be a full moon tonight.
He always felt it, since the day he was born- this sudden energy that heightened his instincts. The way the sound of Vigor's heartbeat woke him; the way he could smell him from outside; the way he could see deep into his eyes from across a room…
Those eyes…
Ever since Vigor woke up crying, there was sorrow in his eyes. Even when he didn't have nightmares recently, sadness still lingered in his gaze. He would try to put on a mask, act like everything was fine- do his chores, do some exercises, read a book, give a smile or make a smart remark when they spoke… but he could still see the grief in his eyes.
He could see it clearly today, but the werewolf didn't prod. Vigor didn't want to talk about it? Alright. He could understand.
The werewolf had his own memories he didn't want to share.
They went through their usual routine- breakfast, chores, exercise, reading- before Mandible took Vigor upstairs at 5:00 in the afternoon.
He told him to stay in his room, keep the door locked, and to stay in there no matter what.
When the sun began to set and the urge was drawing near… he went down to the cellar.
He grabbed a bottle of wine. His fridge was stocked, thanks to Biff- the rookie wanted to make sure his old friend's cravings kept low.
He drank half a bottle, before heading up the stairs…
He could smell Vigor.
Back to the cellar; he drank the rest of the bottle before going back up.
No good, he could still smell him. He returned to the cellar, drinking another bottle, this time full.
He walked through the kitchen, his eyes on the floor… remembering the night Vigor pissed himself the first time he saw the werewolf. He sensed his fear clearly that night, how fast his heart was beating…
Then he cut his hand… he still remembered the sight of blood, how red it was, how close he was to tasting-
More wine. This time he drank two bottles, and at this point his mind was growing fuzzy.
'Stop… over-doing… drunk off your…' the voice in his head was garbled, unable to distract him.
His senses were blurred…
He couldn't smell Vigor...
But he still knew where he was.
…
He wanted to eat him.
For some reason… he hated him.
He had been living in solitude before that little shit came into his life.
If it wasn't for him, Biff and Kim wouldn't have come back. Fangpuss wouldn't have found him. They would all be out of danger.
But now. Vigor just HAD to charm them, didn't he? They brought him books, clothes, anything he asked for!
Did anyone ask the werewolf how he felt? Did anyone respect his opinion?
NO!
…
He wanted him dead.
He kills Vigor, then all his problems would be over.
Maybe Biff would finally kill him.
Then the nightmare would be over for good.
…
He ran up the stairs…
He pounded on the door…
…
There was sound of wood breaking.
…
…
…
Mandible opened his eyes.
His head ached like a bitch. What happened last night…? He wondered.
'You got drunk off your ass and destroyed the house, you fuckass!' the voice in his head snapped.
Mandible looked around. The living room was a wreck- furniture was smashed and overturned, books were ripped and scattered, the railing upstairs was broken…
The door upstairs was open.
Vigor!
He ran in… freezing in his tracks.
The room was in shambles.
The mattress had been torn to pieces, clothes were shredded...
Vigor was nowhere in sight.
The werewolf began to hyperventilate. No… this can't be happening… not again… not again!
"VIGOR!" Mandible hollered, searching the room. "Vigor! Answer me! …fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!"
He ran down the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen…
Oh, shit…
There was red all over the floor.
Mandible knelt to smell it, to double check…
He felt a pounding in his head. His hangover was acting up.
He winced, looking around…
"Vigor… please…"
He entered the living room once more, checking the bathroom, the closet…
Nothing.
He fell on his knees, covering his face.
Silence lingered in the air, the only sound was a howling wind outside.
*Clack! Clack! Clack!*
He looked up…
The upstairs porch door!
It was open…?
The wind was blowing it open.
He ran up, looking out on the deck…
There were tracks, slightly covered due to the blizzard last night. He tried to sniff them, but his hangover acted up every time he tried to use his wolf-instincts. Alright, track like a human then…
He followed the trail… the footprints went down the stairs, around the house…
There was a mound of snow beneath the deck. Shit! Did he sleep outside?! In this condition, he could have frostbite!
Mandible dug…
Only some logs.
He looked over, seeing the cellar doors… the lock broken off.
He ran into the cellar…
…
Damn, he really got wasted last night, didn't he?
Wine bottles, at least 7, were lying around… and another two were shattered on the stairs.
He searched around, seeing no sign of Vigor. He climbed the stairs, careful of the broken glass.
Another wine bottle had rolled under the wood stove… there was still some left inside.
Well that explains the red stained floor… Mandible thought with relief. But where's Vigor?
He kept walking, wondering where he could be…
He looked upstairs.
The only room he hadn't checked was the forbidden one.
Of course. He had to be in there…
He walked towards the stairs, pausing.
No. Vigor wouldn't be in there. It was locked tight. Even if it wasn't…
The way Mandible acted, he was long gone… one way or another…
The werewolf gripped the railing, kneeling and clenching his fist…
…
Something moved underneath the stairs.
Mandible gasped, looking beneath them…
Curled up in a thick blanket, the axe beside him, was Vigor.
"Vigor…? Vigor!" Mandible reached forth and shook him. "Wake up…"
Vigor groaned, opening his eyes…
And screamed.