Chapter 12:
-Pity?-
"What the hell are you, Michael?" he whispered, hardly dared to breath.
Then suddenly, he could hear a ponderous moan which went over to a snarl behind him. His blood had solidified and he dared not to turn around. He swallowed empty and got his weapon ready. It was his only chance to defend against such beasts and he hoped not to miss it, even if he wanted to injure Michael only unwillingly, but he had no other choice. On three, the sheriff turned around so fast he could and fired all his shots towards the shape behind him. Michael only yelled angrily, as the bullets drilled into his breast and also hit his heart. The magazine of the pistol was empty and Grey Wolf had to realize horrified that this thing showed no indications of weakens and injuries, instead it became only more irritated. The last thing he saw was a mighty claw came towards him. Michael hurled the helpless Native American at a tree, where he remained unconscious. Maybe after a half hour or for Grey Wolf it seemed to be hours as he awakened with vehement headaches, backaches and as he wanted to rise, he noticed that he couldn't move his right leg.
"Damn it."
He couldn't even crawl away. Strange was why he wasn't dead. What had happened actually? No time to answer these questions; just get away from here as fast as possible. He should be glad that he was still alive. As he could find a somewhat strong long stick few meters away, he tried to reach it with all his strength. With all his strength and with pains he tried to rest on it. As he managed it and wanted to hobble away, the shadow stood again in front of him. First, he thought, it would be a grizzly bear, so mighty from shape was this thing. When the cold beaming of the moon illuminated that part of the forest, Grey Wolf stumbled fully horrified and fear and felled backwards to the ground again, as he saw the true ego of the nearly harmless boy.
"Ah... my... God! Have pity." he begged Michael, however he showed his teeth snarling. "Michael, fight against it."
"What makes you so sure, that I won't kill you right now?" growled the deep voice of Michael.
"Y... y... you don't want this a... at all. Remember, w... what you told me." he stuttered.
"I cannot deny what I am."
"No, but do you not care about your son? You wanted to change yourself for him that fore he can live a normal life as possible, so that he doesn't end up like... like yourself." he was careful what he said and the last words faded. Michael hissed threaten, seized the one lying on the ground by the collar and his face approached his.
"No, it isn't and I cannot change myself." he let him loosely.
"What are you suppose to do now?"
"Go away…go home, before I change my mind. We will talk later."
Michael still sensed in the inner hate and fury however for the first he became again somewhat calmer and vanished so fast he had appeared. Grey Wolf snatched the stick, pilled on it up and hobbled back into the village. In his house was light on. He had turned out the as he left? Ah what the heck, definitely he had forgotten it in the hurry.The door also wasn't locked. As he entered, he saw Ivanhoe sit on his chair.
"How long are you already here, son?"
"Not that long. I was worried and as it doesn't seem about otherwise." he pointed at the leg.
"Nothing happened. I heard something in the forest and pursued it, I stepped in one hole and unfortunately broke my leg."
"Ah and what shall this mixture composition?" he held up a notice. "Bone flour and herbs. Do you try to drive out a werewolf once again. What do you keep secret from me?"
"Nothing at all. What this mixture tackles, it's not in your concern, it was only an experiment, nothing further. If you have nothing on the other hand, I'd like to lay down."
"You need a doctor."
"This can wait until tomorrow, I only want to rest."
"Well then... good night. I will come round in the morning."
"You can do this."
That night was one single nightmare. Grey Wolf swallowed a few painkillers against his pains in his leg and against the fever which spread slowly. Frankly, he found no sleep in this night.
The sun began again to rise and her warm beams warmed up this room. There was a knock at the door. The sheriff didn't answer. It knocked a second time, however the door was opened and Ivanhoe entered.
"Dad? Dad! It's me."
Grey Wolf had fallen asleep finally, however, he had no deep sleep. He moaned, yawned and tried to sit upright.
"Come in."
Ivanhoe opened the room door.
"I propose that we go to the doctor, immediately. My car is outside. Can you walk?"
"Hey, not too fast. I need help, but first, I want to put on something and a coffee."
On the fastest way they left the small village and drove to the next situated city. Michael had watched them when they drove away. It was his fault that the sheriff will be most likely a cripple and can never walk again right.