Chapter 11:

-Out of Control-

As promised Michael appeared at the next night exactly by twelve by the stone-circle. The Native American wasn't there yet. Possibly, he had still work to take care of, like usual, or... he had shit. If one couldn't blame him. While Michael waited for all that for the Native American, he looked at the firmament. It was the night after full moon bur he slowly crawled forth from behind the clouds and still shone in his splendour. Sounds of cracking branches and gnashing moss let his attention hike over his shoulders.

"I already thought that you come no more, Grey Wolf."

"I wasn't either, if my feeling hadn't told me, that you mean it honestly... and I do it for your son."

Michael smiled. Today, he didn't wear any sunglasses only his T-shirt.

"Can we start?"

"Only one moment. We need firewood. And you? Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Both collected some wood and put it on a pile in the middle of the circle. Grey Wolf threw in some newspaper and ignited one piece of paper and also threw it onto the pile. During the flames tried to devour the wood, stood Michael beside him and stared into the climbing flames.

"Do you have a pair of handcuffs by chance and chain with you, sheriff?"

"Yes, why? For what do you need them?"

"Only for your security. If I consider how I was in a mood the last time, I won't risk it. However, handcuffs don't last for all too long, but it would give you more time."

"Of what do you speak? Do you intend to kill me!"

"I intend nothing, but its better to prevent."

"If you want, I am able to go back again, to get go some chains."

"Good idea, I will wait."

While Grey Wolf went again back to get about the matters, Michael sat down before the fire and threw again and again fresh wood into the flames to keep it upright. Approximately 45 minutes passed as Grey Wolf returned, full-laden with chains, all this he only could find. He threw them to the ground and tried to breathe again normally. He was completely done. He had done as fast as he could and had nearly forgotten to breathes.

"Give me one minute, please. I am no more the most recent."

Michael grinned agreeing and got up. "Where should I stand?"

"It doesn't matter. You have the choice: do you want to tie up at one of the stones or you could lie down beside the fire?"

"The stone."

„So will it be. Please stand yourself with your back against this stone over there. I will tie your hands with the handcuffs to the back."

Michael did what it has been told and let itself thigh up without resisting. First his hands, then his whole body they was chained up to the stone, so that he couldn't move anymore, anyway, not with big strives. But he knew then, if it should fail, the steel chains and stone would no more detain. Grey Wolf threw a few branches again in the fire, then, he caught to prepare for the rite at itself.He canceled, two short lines on both of his cheek and a horizontal one of his forehead up to the nose downward. Michael's nose fluttered when he could perceive the smell of blood.He tried again to relaxed and closed the eyes, then, he asked quietly:

"Has it to be blood?"

"I'm sorry, my friend however it must be. Blood is the connection to the living one. Its only rabbit-blood. That is a reason why the old Native Americans lost the tradition, nobody dares to sacrifice a harmless animal."

"I can imagine only too well."

"Are you ready?

"How often should I say it: do it, before I change my mind."

"Then, now its gonna be serious." the Native American sighed.

The Native American went to Michael with a small vial, in which he had blood and drew a straight line on the forehead, then, he laid the vial aside on a tree trunk and got a small leather baggy from his left jacket pocket. He opened it and took a handful of the powder, that was in it and threw it into the fire. A little explosion originated and one strangely smelling smoke originated. Bone flour and dried herbs, strong mixture, because Michael caught and became restless. Grey Wolf looked at the young troubled man.

"Do you want really get through this, Michael? We can still stop?"

"There's no going back."

The Native American nodded. He took another handful from the baggy and threw it into the fire and he started this to hum, what went over then to a singing. However, he couldn't understand the words and they started to penetrate in mind. Dancing and singing with a rattle in the right hand rattling to the melody, he revolved around the fire and now and then, he threw the strange mixture into the fire. First, Michael refused unintentionally against the Indian- magic, then suddenly, he lost for short moment his consciousness, so it seemed, but the shaman didn't stop, because he knew it wasn't done yet. His chant became louder to tame and expel the bad spirits in Michael's soul. The moon shone direct on Michael. Michael seemed to be into a type of trance. He now struggled with itself internally. Good against evil. Human being against beast. Externally, he could slowly see changes on him. He was sweating, was cramped up and caught to give a noise of him. Sounds, which rather resembled a torture. however, grey wolf heard continue it he/it as Michael had said it. in Michael's understood Memories suddenly awakened of Markus and Viktor's past, such he saw again and again, then suddenly, the memories changed and he could see a little crying girl standing alone between debris and fires. Selene. He clenched his fists and a deep growl slipped him. He felt so much hate for Viktor for what he had done to Selene, even if he was dead. He immediately would have better killed her at that time, so that she could be together with her family and doesn't have to live centuries long with a lie. Long Michael tried to fight his fury, during Grey Wolf, started to repeat the words, but still rattled with the rattles and threw the powder into the fire, until he had nothing left. That long, Michael had to stand it. He didn't feel really well whatever it caused. He cramped up, panted heavily and drops of sweat formed itself on his forehead. These memories of the girl fixated into his thoughts and he could forget her no more. If he couldn't get her out of his head... then it is too late. And actually, as hard he strained himself to drive away these memories, he failed. His eyes opened and stared to the moon. Michael awakened unceremoniously from the trance, what probably was a tests and he hadn't done it. His muscles in his body stretched and he pulled at the handcuffs. As Grey Wolf heard metallic noises, he felt queasy in his stomach and he looked immediately to Michael. However, he became even more uncomfortable as he heard that the handcuffs... were simply torn. He already had stopped to sing and stopped shocked. He had gained the pure opposite again, but this once was clearly more badly, because he couldn't help that poor boy anymore and that told him Michael also. Michael's cold looks stung in Grey Wolf's eyes. As heavily he also panted, so he tries to rescue still the old man.

"Go away! Damn it, go away!"

Grey Wolf remained solidified until he understood that he was in grave danger and then he run as fast as possible into the forest and while he ran, he loaded his pistol.

Michael growled and moaned. All inside of him began to change again after years. he couldn't say, that he/ was glad to unfold himself once again, however, he had not missed it but he felt free and stronger. His muscles stretched and tightened themselves and as they didn't find any more space within his binds, so he exploded the chains with his physical strength. He fell on his knees and moaned redemptive. Then, he got up…his T-shirt was torn in pieces and the low part of his trousers also. The blood raced through his veins and his heart hammered in his breast. The bloodthirstiness awakened in him, as he still could smell the cold rabbit-blood. He could hear a second racing heart, far in the forest inner. It was human. Noiselessly he wandered through the dark and chased his prey.

Grey Wolf suddenly stopped behind a thicket and tried to hide. He kneeled down on the ground, trembled at his whole body and tried to hold his breath slowly and inattentively. All about him around was quiet, too quiet. Not even an owl or other night-birds whistled and did their usual sounds. Grey Wolf became restless and with trembling hands he controlled again the bullets in his pistol. Twelve bullets were loaded and were ready to fire. He was careful and watchful and had got ready the weapon. He still could hear nothing, any cracks from branches at the ground, no whirls up from leaves. It was uncanny. He knew he was chased by something but he groped in the dark. Every moment, he could be attacked and he wouldn't notice it or if its too late. He was scared stiff. Even a werewolf did more noises, this thing, he was like a ubiquitous shadow.