This chapter is proudly sponsored by NEAS, the only place to buy newly-engineered antiques.

I don't think any of you would have noticed, but I am subjecting this story to a massive revamp. I've grown bored with the old way this has been written, so I have painstakingly written a new chapter plan and have, in short, changed this story completely from that in the notebook. I did this because I keep on getting great and new ideas for the story and want to use them. Nothing that you know of will change. It all still fallows the same plot of the materials already posted, but the one difference is that this story is now being actively written, not just copied down from a notebook. I'm open for suggestions now because nothing is written in stone, except for the top-secret chapter outlines that will determine the fate of Carter. (Ooh, spooky!) This is a new and exciting way to write the story, and I hope you notice as well as I the fresher writing, and improved plotlines. (So far I have outlined up to chapter 30, and there are some really super exciting awesome fantastic blow-your-mind-away sexy? things in store!) The only downside of this fresher-writing is that it hasn't been super-edited like the original in the notebook, so please expect some awkward passages and the occasional typo. (Typos are fun!)

I have a pet peeve everyone. People who chew their gum with their mouth open really piss me off. Not only does it make them look ugly, but it's absolutely disgusting. I mean, have their parents taught them any table manners at all! Jeebus, my first and second period classes I'm surrounded by girls that smack their lips when they chew gum. It drives me insane. But I still put up with it. It's kind of sad how they will never learn that doing that it is not really socially acceptable. (What's ironic is the girls that do it get French manicures and spend half the day applying makeup…but they do not consider chewing their gum like a cow on a cud ugly…go figure.)

Ok, enough is enough. ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

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Chapter 7

I'll Sing My Song of Sorrow, Pain, and Love

(Love Conquers All)

He woke up in a peaceful place. A place of sunshine, of flowers, of bees buzzing contently in the air. Of birds twittering, and a breeze rippling through the long grass. Carter sighed, sweet peace sinking his body down into the ground. The solitude and gentle silence of the clouds drifting above Mother's Hill soothing away all memories. He never wanted to leave that place. Nothing mattered anymore; nothing seemed to hold any gravity. He could almost feel the past emptying from his mind. But Carter knew it was all a dream. He remembered his reality. And all a sudden, the chirping birds turned vultures, the bumble bees to wasps, the clouds to heavy black shrouds. That gentle stirring breeze became a metallic banging and clanging.

Carter woke up for real.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up with a groan. All around him there were the tell-tale sounds of a smithy. He was in Siabara's shop. Carter flipped the blankets off his body and looked at his thigh. It was crudely dressed, but healing. He sighed. Why hadn't they just taken him to the clinic? The priest's answer came when the clanging stopped and there was a moment's rest. Respite on the inside, but outside the wind was screaming and wavering in a disserting howl. Won was right after all. The hurricane had hit.

Siabara shuffled into the bedroom. He was a short but well muscled old man, grizzled and rough from untold years in the smithy and military service. Behind him stood the man's grandson, Gray. Almost the complete opposite, Gray was tall and gaunt, almost gangly in appearance. Like his grandfather though, he too wore a thick leather apron. They both took a moment to stare at Carter, making the priest uneasy.

"You certainly slept a lot didn't you?" The blacksmith remarked gruffly. "Well, why don't you come on over and let me look at your cat scratch?"

Carter still sat there, wondering if he could even stand at all. Why didn't the man just come over to him?

"You gonna' move your ass youngin'?" Siabara grunted with annoyance. Gray's eyebrows arched disapprovingly of his grandfather, but he said nothing.

Submissively, Carter moved tenderly off of the bed and hobbled over to where the blacksmith was standing.

"Aw, suck it up you pansy." The old man said as he roughly pushed Carter into a chair. "In the core we got shot every day and were still expected to run for fifteen miles." He then forcefully ripped off the bandages and poked around in the wound.

The priest grimaced in pain as a blaze of agony burst through his leg. He jerked away from the blacksmith.

In response Siabara wrenched Carter's leg back over. "You sit still maggot." He hissed and continued prodding the gash.

Gray still stood there, as if undecided to say something to his elder. Finally making up his mind, the young man spoke. "Sir, I think you should be a little more careful with the injury."

Siabara dropped Carter's leg altogether and spun around on the apprentice. "What did you say to me you ungrateful son-of-a-bitch!"

Carter was grateful that Gray had distracted the old man and tried to move back across the room. Anywhere away from the blacksmith was paradise.

Meanwhile Siabara seemed to have grown taller than Gray and was proceeding to tear the boy to shreds.

"Little more careful with the injury." Siabara mocked Gray in a feminine voice. "Don't you think I know what I'm doing you unappreciative rat? Do you think you are wiser than me? Do you? Do you really think you can do a better job than a man like me you little boy! Why, you can't even make a wheelbarrow let alone dress a wound!"

"Sorry." Gray muttered, staring at the ground.

"What the hell did you say bird shit?"

"No sir, I could not do a better job than you sir."

"That's more like it." Siabara said with a spit into Gray's face. "Go sweep the shop."

"But-"

"NOW!" With that outrage the blacksmith once again turned to Carter, who was on the opposite end of the room. He stared at the priest for a moment. "Get back over here." He said menacingly. Carter had no choice but to be obedient to this mean Mr. Mustard.

From out in the lobby, Gray could hear spaced screams and yelps of anguish coming from the back room, quickly followed by a sharp reprimand after each one. Gray sighed. His grandfather didn't know the first thing about first aid. He wouldn't be surprised if Carter was dead on the morrow. But there was nothing Gray could do. And the apprentice continued to sweep away to the colorful symphony of howls and screeches. The man would just have to bear it.

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That evening the three sat around the table listening to the wind outside. Carter's leg was throbbing, but his the bandage had been replaced. He couldn't believe that he had actually lived through the ordeal. One thing was certain though. He did not like Siabara, and was very sure that the latter had no pleasant feelings for him either. The priest glanced over at the grizzly figure. It had almost seemed as if the blacksmith was enjoying his pain. Carter's mind flashed back to what the stalker had said.

"I want you to suffer."

Was it really Siabara? The priest studied the man before glancing away. It was either that or he just enjoyed misery. The misery theory seemed more likely. Why would a blacksmith ever attack him? They had barely said two words to each other the whole three years Carter had resided in Mineral Town.

Siabara seemed on the verge of speaking. "Y'know what pansy?"

Both Gray and Carter listened in. The blacksmith could be either of them.

"I hated you the moment I set eyes on you."

Gray and Carter still didn't know who Siabara was addressing.

"You always looked shifty. Like you couldn't be trusted. And all that crap you said about the Harvest Goddess is bullshit anyway."

Gray relaxed visibly, but Carter sucked in his breath. Maybe the stalker really was Siabara.

"Every sermon you ever gave seemed like a load of lies. Like a god damn cover-up. Like you're trying to prove you innocence by taking on the most law-abiding job you could find."

Carter's heart was pounding. Could he have found out? How could he though? No one knew where he had come from! Did they? But despite his inner turmoil, the priest kept a calm face, staring casually at the furnace.

"I see straight through you, bastard." Siabara took another sip from his tea. "I bet you're an ex-convict." He sat there for a moment, his hands tightening around the teacup. "And you know what that makes you? A God damn hypocrite, that's what." Siabara glared at Carter. "I don't think you have any place to talk about the righteous. You're probably dirtier than a pig on a carpet. I know I can't prove it, but I bet you are running from something. And if I ever find out what it is you can kiss your sorry church goodbye, because I'll make sure you never come near this town again."

Words could not possibly express how relieved Carter was at that moment. The old men was just blowing smoke. He didn't know anything. Gray stole a secret smile to the priest. Siabara ranted often.

The old blacksmith stood up. "You two get out of here, I'm going to bed."

Gray and Carter had no choice but to move out into the shop. Gray pulled out a couple of blankets and laid them on the floor. He then sat down and Carter fallowed suit.

"Father, I have something to confess."

"What is it?" Carter asked, remembering that he did have a job after all.

"I hate my grandfather."

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In the morning the hurricane had moved on, leaving a broken and battered town behind. Slowly the people of the town began to emerge from their cocoons to begin to asses the damage. Compared to other towns the storm had hit, Mineral Town was left as one of the least-damaged. But still there was work to do.

Carter limped out into the early morning light.

The stalker wasn't Siabara.

The bastard couldn't have reached up far enough to hang a body from the chicken farm roof.

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A horrible cliff hanger is your reward for reading this far. (Yam!) I'm very eager to see all of your reactions to this segment. Because, I have already told some of you that it will not be SUSPENSEFUL and EXCITING every chapter. (My reason still stands that moments are twice as scary, and twice as suspenseful if you actually care about the character.) C'mon, we've all had that movie experience where we're expected to be scared, but the characters are so poorly acted that you wish for them to die anyway. 

Well, there is another downside I found to this new way of writing the story. It takes twice as long to write chapters. But don't worry. I will be diligent about updating.

Until next time, be sure to REVIEW!

K. W. Lycan

(the werewolf born of rebellion)