Disclaimer: I only own Nicole. Sowwy.
This is the final installment of Weretiger. Enjoy. Stay tuned for my next great adventure. You'll love it as it goes above and beyond the conventional fan fiction series. Well, not really, but it does for this section, that I know of…
A word of the wise, this last chapter ends sort of on a Stephen King genre than a Calvin and Hobbes. It doesn't exactly fit, but I was caught up in the moment.
* ** *
Hobbes ran his tongue over his fangs for the final time to grasp that it was indeed going to happen.
"Okay, let's do this thing. Time for the werewolf to get into his cage."
To Hobbes' surprise, Calvin stepped forward and into the empty shed. "Calvin, get out, I'm coming in." Calvin shook his head. "You don't need to. Now, make sure that the lock gets pushed in all the way. Sometimes it will pop out of it isn't depressed fully-"
"Wait, what do you mean I don't need to get in. I'm the werewo-" again, Calvin shook his head. "Sorry buddy, not you. Me." Hobbes felt his draw unhinge slightly as Calvin began to fiddle with the lock again to make sure it wouldn't pop open.
The edge on his voice, his irritation to Stacy the newsperson's stupid joke, the avoiding of the subject. It all made sense on half of the subject. But…the rest of it didn't.
"What do you mean? I have to be the werewolf, my fangs, the bloody taste in my mouth the morning of the murder, the blood on the sheets-" Calvin put up a hand to stop him. "Let me explain first." Hobbes shut his mouth and watched Calvin clear his throat.
"It all happened two months before, when we were out in the woods that one night trying to salvage the wagon from the river. Do you remember? It had gotten dark, ironically, on the full moon, and although nature was providing us light, it wasn't enough. 'I'll go grab us a flashlight' I said, and started up the path to the house while you were searching the river. Halfway up the path, the clouds parted and the moon's rays sliced overhead and minutes later I heard rustling in the woods. I began to walk faster, then jogging, then sprinting, and soon I was flat-out running for the house as the rustling began to grow louder and closer. Almost in sight of the house, something jumped from the bushes and knocked me down. The look of murder was in its eyes, I could see, and it ripped into my arm, bringing blood, and yet did not kill me. I do not know why. When I got back to you, I merely claimed I fell on a sharp rock. As a week later I was the only werewolf out a month later, I'm sure he only spared me to relieve himself of the curse
"A month later, I left the house at night, having transformed, and killed the girl." Hobbes frowned. "That doesn't explain the fangs or the blood. I don't believe you, Cal-"
Calvin put up his hand again. "When I came back from killing the girl, I could not use the door, so I had to leap up twenty-feet and into the window. There is only a small window, literally, of space to jump into. I remember I leapt up, and, before painfully coming down, found you had shifted positions on the bed. I could not maneuver as I came down hard on your face. Luckily, you didn't wake up. Feel your fangs again. They feel as if their chipped, not elongate, right?" They did. "And that blood was your own, not Alicia Chambers'. The blood, however, on the sheet was Alicia's."
A light bulb somewhere in Hobbes clicked on. It all fits. It was never me at all. "Alright, Calvin," said Hobbes, nodding his head down "I'll lock you up…Calvin? Calvin?"
Hobbes looked up. Calvin was gone, as were the clouds.
* ** *
The moon began to shine down on Nicole, illuminating her young beauty. The kids had all left, were all inside, and Nicole was a little on edge. Was the murderer creeping up on her right now, perhaps licking his chops, deciding what he was going to nibble on first, her legs, the arms, or maybe even chew a little tongue for a while. Nicole shuddered and kept walking.
* ** *
I. Smell. Blood. was the thought as Calvin crept into the bushes, watching the young beauty before him.
* ** *
Hobbes sprinted down the road on all fours, tracking Calvin. Calvin's smell was in the air, that sweet sweaty odor that kids possessed, and yet it wasn't that smell. It seemed to change in midair as he followed it. From kid to…something else. Hobbes sprinted as hard as he could, and managed to find a little more energy to run faster.
* ** *
Did something just rustle in the bushes? Nicole shifted, but it was probably just a hallucination, but then again, do sane people hallucinate? No, there it was again. There was something in the bush…
* ** *
Closer, oh yes come closer my fine looking beauty, I want to chew on your leg, get a taste of your nice meat. Come closer, oh yes. Calvin's muscles tensed, and as Nicole came closer to inspect the bush, something inside him snapped. He felt his knees go off and found himself midair between his hiding place and the girl.
Nicole screamed as the thing in the bush exploded outwards. Nicole stumbled back and over onto her back. She could hear snarling and claws tak-ing on the concrete. No, please, not into the light. I don't want to die, but I'd rather be killed without seeing the Thing, please Lord no.
Calvin stepped into the light and Nicole tried to scream, but nothing came. Not a shriek of fear, not even an eep.
* ** *
Hobbes bounded down the street, into the suburbs, were the strong smell was leading him. Toward the end of transformation, Calvin smelled something like a musty old house that was stained with the crimson fluids of its past residents.
In the street, about a block ahead, lay a girl in the moonlight beams, on her back. Her eyes bulged outwards and she seemed to be shielding herself with her hands. She was a beauty, but alas she was only human. What was scaring her, but Hobbes already knew.
Into the moonbeams came out a hulking beast. Silver white fur that formed a shaggy coat over him, Calvin resembled a taller, muscular Hobbes. Claws the thickness of quarters and a rope of saliva that hung from the mouth made the transformation bound back down to Earth for Hobbes. The hair on the nape of his head stood up on end, and he found out it was indeed him who had committed the murders.
* ** *
Please God, kill, strike it down dead for me, quickly, it's going to kill me. The beast took a step forward. A thick rope of saliva slid off of its maw and splattered against the sidewalk, but this was the least of Nicole's worries. Instead, she concentrated on the rather large and exaggerated claws and teeth.
It seemed to be gurgling, trying to growl but only managed to gurgle instead. But as Nicole listened, it sounded almost human. "You are looking tasty tonight, my young friend." it almost said. Nicole shook her had and backed up.
The creature took another long and seemingly slow step toward Nicole, almost mocking her in the fact he could take as long as he wanted and still she would die.
Where the hell is everyone? This is a suburb! Nicole whimpered as the finally backed into the curb, and her worst fear was realized: she had nowhere to go. The beast-thing had sidled up next to her, and another long strand of saliva splattered next to her.
Oh God, I need someone to save me now-
* ** *
Hobbes bound into the moonbeams and uttered-
* ** *
…a piercing roar. Nicole turned in time to see the yellow-ochre blur in the full light of the pregnant moon. The blur turned and-
* ** *
…slammed into Calvin. Hobbes brought his paw and brought it down across Calvin's face, not as forceful as he wanted to, but enough to knock him from the girl.
It wasn't that he wanted to hurt Calvin, he really wanted to help him, honest to God, but there was still a little bit of tiger buried deep inside of him. You can take the tiger out of the jungle, but you can't take the jungle out of the tiger.
But partially it was Calvin's fault, and although he was fighting Hobbes against his free will, he still attacked first, bringing his weighty paw across Hobbes' jaw, making sure something cracked, not only physically, but mentally too.
The Tiger was released.
Nicole remembered only watching the blur (not quite sure what it was; it was very fast) jumping around the beast, hissing and snarling, and in a brief, slow minute second, Nicole was almost certain it was another Thing, and then something said tiger, and something said it would be alright. She watched it dance around and slash at the Thing and smack it to the ground, and suddenly, without almost no warning, three parallel slashes of crimson fluid appeared across the Thing's chest.
The final blow, the final batting of paw against paw, and Hobbes looked up into the eyes, and the werewolf had been drained from them. All that was left was the young innocence that only a six year old could posses. And all at once, at that same moment, the Jungle left the Tiger, and Hobbes saw Calvin in those eyes. He realized that he had to do this, had to kill him, `cuz that's the only way to kill a werewolf, and as he saw Calvin gleaming in those beady dots, he was unaware of the fact that his paw was in midswing toward the werewolf's frail neck.
* ** *
As soon as Calvin entered, he was gone. All that was left was the werewolf. Tiger, pretty tiger, you will make a nice dessert after my…oh shi-
* ** *
As claw met neck, all in the world of both werewolf and weretiger want dark.
* ** *
Nicole remembered nothing of the battle, and certainly remembered not fainting, but as she awoke she found herself surrounded by police and firefighters, forming a closer shroud around her. No, not around her, around the scene, where the
(werewolf, weretiger)
Murderer had been. Imagine, Nicole Jones almost a victim of the Nightly Knife, a victim of the same murderer who had taken her friend Alicia a month ago. What a tale that will be when it circulates around the high school on Monday.
"Are you alright?" asked a young handsome police officer, maybe no more than twenty-two. Nicole looked up, realized she had just been sitting, thinking, for about five minutes having woken up, and broke her gaze. "Why, yes, thank you." The officer looked at her oddly. She had just been through a horrible ordeal, almost died, and she was "just alright."
"Yes, I am fine. Someone told me it would be alright." The officer nodded. Delirium. He helped her up and guided her to an ambulance that seemed to have magically appeared in the last five minutes. She looked down to see the ground was covered in a sticky coat of blood, none of it her own.
She found a blanket and was soon wrapped up, and somebody from one of the houses had conjured her some hot chocolate, which she had thanked him for. The officer was securing the scene from the suburbians who only wanted a closer look. She nodded silently, and began her gaze again. Almost killed, by the Nightly Knife, by the Manibal, and she felt a-ok. She would be up and about tomorrow, not even remembering what happened most likely.
Something in the back of her mind was clicking. It wasn't the Nightly Knife, though. Who had it been? Who had been wanting to kill her, who had tak-ed across the pavement, who had drooled like an animal and said in a gurgling, animal voice "You are looking tasty," and had gleamed off of the moonlight. And who had saved her again, and looked into the Thing's eyes with a look of contempt, then friendship, then a deep loathing, not at the Thing, but in himself. Who had it been?
Down on the ground, almost at her feet, was an animal. A stuffed animal, a tiger to be exact. How had that gotten there? It shouldn't be. It was just out of place. Stuffed tigers don't just appear at crime scenes.
Nicole picked up the tiger and looked at its scratched bead eyes. Inside her, something clicked. "Did you save me? Were you friends with the murderer?" The eyes stared back at her with no human intelligence. Nicole nodded and hugged the stuffed animal, and a wave of nostalgia waved over her.
Before she put the tiger in her lap, she would swear she had seen a gleam in its eyes.