My walk with Paul was a night of epic pandemonium, and it all began with an innocent game of rock, paper, scissors played by two vampires in a cave on the coast. Such a night should have been foretold by the ancients as one of the sure signs for an imminent apocalypse, but they were shortsighted in that respect.
The minute Paul lost to Marko I knew I was in for an unpredictable night. I should have been distraught, but that wouldn't get me anywhere, especially with the company I was keeping. Marko looked very happy when he went to join the others already slumbering and Paul was subdued or as close to subdued as he could get. He was bouncing around, releasing excess energy before retiring to the rear cave to sleep the sleep of contented vampires.
"I'll be seeing you later, Thorn. Sweet dreams!"
Sweet dreams my ass.
xXx
Dawn crept in slowly while the morning fog rolled back over the ocean. My sleep was dreamless. I would have welcomed a nightmare though, but the new day was beckoning. I stretched and walked to the entrance, enjoying the breeze that blew in. The tide was going out, leaving the tidal pools to dry and its denizens waiting for the next respite from the cruel heat of the sun. The rocks and pebbles scrunched beneath my paws; the sound they made was a delicious crackle that caused my ears to perk.
Sunny Santa Carla glistened in the sunlight like the dog shit left on an emerald lawn, bejeweled by the morning dew. I decided it was time to explore daytime Santa Carla on my own, and after spending most of my days cooped up in Max's yard, it would be a new and different experience. Max wasn't here to say no, and the Boys could care less about where I went during the day if they didn't find out. All I had to do was avoid the local pound and its agent of menace, the animal control officer.
No wonder the Boys flew into Santa Carla. It was quite a long walk from the cave, and by the time I reached the outskirts of town, it was nearing midmorning. I wasn't tired at all though, since it was that kind of day when the strange and eccentric denizens that lurked in the nooks and crannies of this coastal town came out to check each other out, and being one of those same denizens, it was a joy to be out. Downtown was actually an interesting place. A lot of free spirits were out today, and the majority of them were human. I met quite a few dogs in different shapes and sizes, but they were mostly on guard duty and had no time to chat with me.
I was trotting down the main drag when I caught the aroma of a familiar scent. The odor had a pungent, almost rank smell that reminded me of the wild woods and the animals that lurked in the underbrush. Whatever it was, it lingered in the doorway of a shop. Snuffling and licking the pavement to get a better gauge of the scent, I didn't notice the big fellow dressed in a loud shirt covered with all kinds of tropical fishes, denim shorts, and bright orange flip flops standing just inside, looking at me with a strange grin on his face.
"You're a nice looking dog. What are you doing here?" asked Fish Shirt. His eyes had a certain gleam that I found a bit disconcerting, and the smell was all over him. "Why don't you come inside and see if we can find out whom you belong to." He crouched down, his hulking form dominating the entrance, thrusting his face closer to mine with his large nostrils quivering like he was smelling me too. The thick eyebrows that sat above his eyes were like dark wooly caterpillars that seemed to inch up and down as he looked me over, and the hair on his head looked more like fur than human hair because it was so abundant. Long, coarse black hairs covered his arms. I could have sworn his teeth were a bit too big for his mouth when he grinned again. The books and magazines he held in his arms had pictures of people in various states of undress on their covers, and some of them had couples in positions I've seen mating dogs get into while in the throes of breeding.
I wanted to ignore him, but the scent was addicting and powerful enough to get me to enter his shop. The guy let me in, chuckling as he stood up and stepped back, replacing some books in the shelves that lined one part of the wall and returning the magazines to the top of a glass display case that doubled as the counter for the register. It was also filled with strange paraphernalia only humans would find interesting. Videotapes occupied the rest of the store's shelves, and their covers also shared the same lurid photos as the books and magazines. This was quite a different video store, a place that wouldn't cater to the same clientele that visited Max's shop. I stepped over to where Fish Shirt was sitting down at the end of the counter, tapping his fingers on the glass case and smiling down at me. Settling down on my haunches, I sniffed at the air again. It soon came as a shock to me when I finally identified the smell that had me snorting at the floors and proprietor of a shop in downtown Santa Carla. The stench was unmistakable: a werewolf owned this shop.
"Found what you were looking for, hellhound?" asked Fish Shirt innocently.
Touché and I thought this was going to be a good day; I've never left a place so quickly in my life.
My flight from the werewolf's den of iniquity didn't last long as I leapt and ran along the sidewalk, avoiding pedestrians and the dog or cat that happened to be in my way. I managed to slow down enough to get my wits back. That was a close call, and I knew Max would be angry about this escapade; he was the kind who didn't fraternize with werewolves, and he made sure that I didn't too, but what he didn't know, won't hurt him. I'm just hoping Max and I never meet up with Fish Shirt in the future because I bet that dirty werewolf would remember me if he saw me again.
Imagine that, meeting with a werewolf who ran a video store just like Max. It was a small world after all. Maybe the Boys knew about the resident werewolves of Santa Carla or maybe not since they tend to keep to themselves most of the time. I had no recollection of them or Max preying on or harassing the werewolf population. Perhaps I'll keep this little bit of information; knowing who was who and what was what in and around Santa Carla would probably help during my explorations. I just hoped there wouldn't be any more surprises coming my way soon.
The Boardwalk was in full swing, and the swarm of visitors that milled around the area was overwhelming. All those bodies generated a powerful odor of sweat, bodily functions, and other assorted scents that made my head swim. Quite a few people called out to me, while others tried to lure me to them with food in order to pet me and check me out, but they shouldn't have bothered. I picked my way around the beach, avoiding the bodies that were splayed out on beach towels. The swimsuit crowd packed the beach, their bodies glistening like bikini clad sardines packed in oil and then scattered like confetti on the sandy strip that separated the ocean from the amusement park.
Walking around and enjoying the sights would have been enjoyable had it not been for a nagging feeling. My brain was screaming at me, telling me that I was being followed. Was it Fish Shirt? I pretended to sniff around a park bench where a family was having their lunch. While the children cooed over me, I cast a quick look backward to identify my pursuer. It wasn't Fish Shirt, but an animal control officer, and he was trying his best to sneak up on me. I guess the rest of my Santa Carla tour would have to be postponed for today. That werewolf purveyor of perversity must have tipped off the pound, and now their agent was after me. Well, it was time for me to leave anyways. I scampered away, weaving through the crowd, effectively losing my pursuer. The last I saw of the officer, he was red in the face and bent over, trying to catch his breath.
When I made it back to the cave, the late afternoon sun was slowly setting, its glowing descent a prelude to nightfall. I still had time for a quick drink and a nap before the Boys stirred from their sleep. After lapping at the water bowl, I snacked on a couple of mouthfuls of dried dog food, and then I hopped into bed. I wasn't looking forward to a night out with Paul, but compared to my previous night with David, perhaps this wouldn't be as bad.
I was never so wrong in my life.
xXx
Whooping and hollering preceded the Boys as they emerged from their sleep. I poked my head between the curtains and watched as the Boys entered the room. Paul was heading towards me with a wide grin on his face, and I did my best to keep from baring my teeth.
"Evenin' boy, are you ready to go for a walk? Uncle Paul's got a fun night planned!"
I had no idea why Paul was speaking to me in such an awfully weird voice. It annoyed me enough that I let out the tiniest whine. I hoped he wasn't going to use that tone of voice on our walk.
"Why are you speaking like that?" asked Marko. "Were you sucking on those helium balloons again?"
"Yeah, it's quite fun even when I'm just greeting Thorn with a bubbly good evening!" Paul's voice was back to normal now.
Dwayne appeared silently by my side. I quickly glanced up at him, but he was looking away. From his well-worn leather jacket, I caught the barest trace of a scent that was very familiar, but the sight of David emerging from the inky shadows distracted me. His clothing was immaculate, not tattered and soiled like it was the night before, and his hair was clean, styled into spikes once more. Puzzled, I looked around for something that would account for David's change of clothing and clean-cut appearance such as a wardrobe or a chest of extra clothing. I knew Max had a closet full of clothes for all occasions, but there was no sign of the Boys having a closet in the cave.
I must be staying with a bunch of slobs. Perhaps they stole the clothes that were left out to dry and not brought in during the night or they ransacked the secondhand clothing shops on the nights they didn't feed. As David came nearer, I noticed the cuffs of his black jeans stopped at mid-calf, showcasing his ankle boots and a swath of very pale, skinny calf. The rest of his ensemble was topped off by the shirt he wore. It had the horrendous picture of an adorable and cloyingly sweet silver kitten upon it with large, dark eyes staring plaintively from David's chest.
"Wow, you look like cute shit! Is that the style now?" Paul laughed as he sat down on the sofa. "Let me see if I can score a couple of bunny suits. I've always wanted to roam around Santa Carla dressed as a blood drinking bunny."
"Marko, the next time you steal clothes, make sure they're the right size and not decorated with kittens," said David.
"What do you mean? That shirt really suits you," Marko replied as he threw some articles of clothing at David. "Okay, try these on for size. They should go better with your Oh! I'm so sinister and evil-looking vibe."
"Keep talking, keep talking, you're this close to getting that sidecar for your bike, Marko," David growled as he went back to change his clothes.
"I actually thought he looked good in that shirt!" said Paul as he stood up from the sofa. "Alright, it's party time! We'll meet you guys back at the cave. Are you ready, Thorn?"
I leapt down from the bed and walked to Paul. Surprisingly, he wasn't holding the leash. The night was starting on a positive note already. We headed up the stairs and into twilight; the moon had yet to rise. I didn't know where he was leading me. Paul ambled along, glancing up at the sky now and then while I trotted ahead slightly. I still hadn't forgiven him for the spiked collar, but letting me walk without a leash was good enough for me to forget about it for the rest of the night. We were heading down the dirt road when we heard the others fly overhead, traveling towards the distant lights of Santa Carla and their hidden bikes.
Paul picked up the pace when we arrived at the outskirts of town. Foregoing the Boardwalk altogether, he followed a path that headed east, and soon we were hiking into the hills, up the wooded slopes, in an area adjacent to a state park. I stayed close, never letting the swift vampire out of my sight. He traveled silently, heading for a dense grove of redwoods mingled with pines and where the air was filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, ferns, and the distinct odor of growing marijuana. Now this was unexpected. I pictured Paul as the party animal of the group, easy-going and very playful. While he was alive and before he became a vampire, he probably indulged in various illegal pleasures, but I never expected him to be an active participant in the growth and maintenance of cannabis. Being undead may have its perks, but I doubt he could feel the effect of the weed unless there was a blood-based addictive drug I didn't know about.
As we entered a small clearing, the evening breeze picked up, carrying with it a hint of something that tickled my nostrils and the faint sounds of something traveling through dense undergrowth. In front of me, Paul stopped in his tracks, and then turned to his right and dropped into a crouch. He was staring down a crowded aisle of tall redwoods with their high canopies moving slightly in the breeze, listening to the same thing. I could hear it coming closer. It would be safer for us if we didn't meet up with whatever or whoever was coming, but I was curious to see what it was, and I noticed Paul had the same idea too. The undergrowth beneath the grove rustled with movement and a hush fell over the grove. I saw Paul quickly leap upwards, scrambling up the sheer trunk of a nearby redwood and into its high branches. That was very nice of him to leave me down here, waiting for whatever came loping into the clearing. Growling to myself, I hid behind a large rotting trunk that was covered in moss and fungus, nearly burrowing beneath it. We didn't have long to wait. A woman came running, her dark hair streaming behind her as she moved across the clearing. At first, I assumed she was a jogger, enjoying a lovely evening run through the dark woods, except for one thing: she was stark naked.
I heard Paul scramble down from the tree. Pausing at the base, he stood there with his hands on his hips, contemplating what he had just seen. There was a quizzical look on his face. He looked up when I emerged from behind the log. "Did you just see--?" he began, but the sight of a naked female tearing through the woods must have affected him a little bit. "What the fuck?" He grinned, shaking his head in disbelief. "I got to find out more about her! Heck, I'll probably end up eating her too!"
I found it hard to keep up with Paul when he began his mad pursuit of the naked prey. He flew after her, hoping to catch up to her pale form glowing strangely on the shadowed paths of the forest. The fleet-footed nude knew her way through the woods very well, especially in woods that were pretty dark. I knew something was strange when I noticed how easily the woman kept ahead of us, her speed going beyond that of an ordinary human. As I followed, I sniffed at her tracks just to make sure. The rank animal smell that I inhaled brought to mind dirty old Fish Shirt, but with a feminine undertone that countered the strong animal essence. I could also see how the tracks were distorted, altering from one set to the next; the woman was transforming as she ran. These woods must be a playground for werewolves.
Now fully aware of what we were chasing, I tried to yelp a warning to Paul. Unfortunately, the moron was oblivious to my call. I saw the woman turn her head and do a double-take when she realized she was being followed. Her face still retained its human visage, but I detected the changes to her body as her scent became stronger, wafting over me with its wild musk. I could see the full moon as it finally slipped from behind the surrounding peaks, bathing the slopes with its silvery light. The changing woman would be at the peak of her transformation. I knew we had to turn back or else we would become the pursued and the werewolf, the pursuer. So far, she was ignoring us for the most part. She looked to be preoccupied about something as she stopped briefly, sniffing the air around her.
Paul landed not too far from her. Instead of keeping a safe distance, he swaggered forward, intent on catching his prey. I believed he was intending to soften her up with some smooth talk too; either Paul was fearless or numbingly stupid because he uttered the most inappropriate pick-up line ever: "Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you wanna play pool? We could use my stick, my balls, and your hole." He didn't expect the answer to be a blood-curdling howl that erupted from the throat of the fully transformed werewolf. That quickly put a stop to Paul's sweet talk.
The moonlight highlighted the thick black pelt that covered the werewolf's sleek form, outlining her triangular ears with the cold light of the moon; her muzzle wrinkled, pulling back dark lips to reveal glistening canines. She slowly approached, her legs quivering with formidable strength and the thick fur at the nape of her neck standing on end, making her even larger. Bright yellow eyes glared at us hungrily. The sheer beauty and power emanating from her was starting to turn me on.
"Holy shit! That chick's a werewolf!" Paul finally figured everything out.
I've never seen a vampire take to the air so fast.
xXx
Author's Notes: Filing income taxes takes up a lot of time, especially when the deadline nears hence the minor delay in posting. What doesn't help is being slightly buzzed from a birthday party and trying to find the adjusted gross income and placing it in the right box. Also, work has been a bit busier than usual, and a drawing project had me preoccupied.
I'm going to have to make up for some lost time! And as always, many thanks to all who have read Thorn's misadventures!