Chapter 5
Flashback - Hope's first turning. Really hope I've done my
job right on this. If it makes you cringe, I'm happy ;P
-oOo-
In the past she'd had no end of people say, always in a sickeningly unconvincing kindly tone, 'Hope dear, change is always hard.' But nobody, not one damn person, had ever stated 'Hope, change is fucking excruciating! Especially unwanted, unasked for, unwelcome and seriously unbelievable change.'
She would've screamed the stars out of the sky, had her neck and jaw not been so inexorably, and mercilessly, fixed on cramping, grinding, crunching and elongating into the neck of something inhuman.
Brightly painted false nails catapulted off her finger ends ejected by thick black sharply pointed claws that thrust through tender flesh that split and ripped away from fingers that cracked and splintered as they lengthened to fit hands that grated twisted and melded until they had re-formed into paws. She fell forward digging her claws into the loose soil her head hung wishing she could die taking deep ragged and wheezing breaths while feeling her skull fracture fuse fracture fuse fracture fuse she watched her own teeth bloody and rooted fall amongst the grass forced out by things that pierced and grew through ruined gums eager to fill an over stretched mouth now edged by ripping and tearing lips.
At last she was able to clutch some inadequate and feeble relief by expressing the mind scouring hurt in a sound. Terror and trauma combined within her tormented high pitched howl. She raised her strangely heavy head, preparing to spear the night with her anguish again when her breath her reason and her soul were suddenly viciously snatched from her by the searing white hot agony of her back snapping sending a volcanic shock wave throughout her body that turned to a searing explosion of brilliant white lightning behind her eyes.
The violence inflicted throughout her fragile human form during the turning stole the last vestiges of strength and muscle tone from the remnants of Hope, she collapsed completely onto ground sodden with her sweat and blood. Nothing of her was within her control. Helpless, she was only vaguely aware of her bowels emptying and urine soaking between her hind legs as her body continued to jerk, writhe and twist it's way through the final stages of her transition into a werewolf. The last aspects of Hope Pebblestone to transform and complete her mutation into monster occurred within her brain. Those parts responsible for higher functioning grew numb, becoming muffled as though buried under deep snow; leaving this version of Hope primarily a creature of instinct. Her emotions, behaviours and thought processes were left revolving around and responsive to much more basic needs and wants than her fully human self. And what she had first wanted in her new, supernatural, form was very basic indeed...Hungry. Hunt. Eat.
Slowly rising up from the ground and onto all fours feet, her nostrils flared as she tuned into a powerful, and familiar scent. The scent was male, but somehow there was a thread of her own scent woven within and around the male's scent. It translated into one thing, that the female werewolf was scenting kin. Her hackles raised, she turned silver grey eyes towards the sound of a soft whine. Lifting her snout she breathed in deeply, testing and tasting the watching large, dark grey male through his smell. She knew him. 'Is Alpha kin, is proper to submit.' The female carefully squatted before lowering herself fully to the ground and, very deliberately, rolling onto her back. There, she revealed her unprotected stomach and throat to the bigger creature and waited for him to decide whether he was going to attack.
xxxxxx
Dean grinned at manager who's own expression was grave.
"Why? You gonna tell me this place's haunted? What is it? A grey lady? White lady?"
The manager shook his head.
"No, although we do get a lot of residents who book the tower room that you're in complaining to me about 'Strange noises' and manage to convince themselves the room is haunted. I can assure you it's not. If you hear anything during the night it's just the occasional clanking of the hot water system, nothing to be concerned about...Oh, I'm sorry. Have I disappointed you?"
"Might've been fun but no, not really, and no way noises in one room explains why folks are stayin' away."
The manager gave Dean a wry smile.
"No, it doesn't. Actually that was me attempting to divert you away from the topic of dwindling bookings."
Dean raised his glass to the man, liking his honesty.
"An' now I'm even more curious. What am I missin' here?"
"Allow me to pour you another, on the house and, if you don't mind? I think I'll join you this time."
xxxxxx
Joel, as the adult werewolf, became Hope's teacher and guide during their periods of change. He taught her how to stalk, bring down and quickly kill wildlife. They ran together, hunted together, and they rutted together. In her human form however, Hope interacted with Joel as infrequently as possible. If for any reason she had to remain in the same room as him, she did so in silence. The meals he prepared she ate in her room, never commenting on the food or requesting something particular. Every night she locked her bedroom door, although Joel never acted inappropriately towards her in human form. She withdrew as much as she could from the family she had worked so hard to find. After that first change, Joel had tried to talk to her, to explain. He'd sat outside her locked door and spoke about how he'd been turned while in the Navy. He'd had a few days shore leave in Cuba, was 'befriended' by two women and a man, roofied, then turned, becoming a part of their small pack, learning how to live as man and monster. He spoke about the subsequent deaths of his pack mates, killed by humans calling themselves 'Cazador de demonios', daemon hunters. He related to Hope various snippets of his life and movements as a werewolf, of being alone and lonely, and of eventually making his way back to this township, the place that he had always known as home.
Hope had listened from her side of the door, but remained silent despite Joel's apologies and his pleas for forgiveness. She wasn't prepared to give him that. He was responsible for damning her to this dual life, for turning her into a killer, for making her a monster, for not giving her the chance to choose. She could never forgive him. He had turned her into two separate identities and, in doing so, he had left her less than half the person she once was.
Now, although she and Joel continued inhabiting the same house; Hope almost completely entombed herself in her own room. Her only real outings were during the change; and those occasions when she walked into town and visited the park. Always sitting on the same bench that she had been sat on when her uncle first responded to his recognition of a strong underlying familiarity within the scent of her and had made his approach, she would quietly watch the people living their lives around her. Over time she had become familiar with the faces of those who regularly used the park, she even made up names for them. Mrs Bump had her baby and Hope saw the newborn Bump Baby grow and show signs of getting close to taking it's first steps. She never saw a Mr Bump. She saw when old Ms Shaggy Dog suddenly began walking the park alone, a picture of sadness; and she noticed when the old woman stopped appearing. Mr and Mrs Perfect who brought the kids to the park together turned out not to be so perfect after all. The park turned into the designated neutral territory for Mrs Perfect to hand over the kids to Mr Perfect for his contact visits. She lost track of the partners Mr Gorgeous-And-Gay wandered hand in hand through the park with; but she noticed with sadness when he began to rapidly lose weight and start to look tired and weaker.
Then there were 'The Others'. Four so far who, for no apparent reason, simply stopped using the park. Except Hope always knew exactly the reason why. Each time her tears had lasted longer, and the anger towards her uncle had grown stronger. Hope felt like a captive animal in so many ways. But despite the want, she felt too afraid to leave behind her home and go her own way. It would mean carrying the monster within her to other places, and she wasn't willing to do that. However, by staying she already instinctively knew that, eventually, she would be driven to challenge the older werewolf in a bid to take over as Alpha. She had to assume that her uncle was fully aware of the fact too and, while she wondered how he felt about it, she had no desire to talk to him about it.
-oOo-
Chick xxxx
