Hunter of the Shadows
Title taken from a line in Metallica's 'The Thing That Should Not Be'
Chapter 3
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A short cough. The room comes back into focus bringing with it Dean's worried face. He looks tired, worn out, almost a completely different person to the last time he was on camera.
"Sammy's pretty sick. I thought he was doing better, but he developed a fever last night. A bad one." He shakes his head in despair. "Like this life don't suck enough..."
The look on Dean's face gives the impression he's close to breaking until he smiles suddenly.
"Still, coulda been worse huh? Least he's in one piece." But the smile just as quickly darkens to sadness. Running a shaky hand through his spiky hair, Dean fixes sad, bloodshot eyes on the camera lens. "Sorry. I'm just so damn tired, but there's no way I'm gonna sleep just yet. And besides, there's more to tell, so much more you need to know..."
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The Past...
It took me three months to track him down by scent alone. His trail led me into some real downtown squalor and back alleys, the lingering smell of urine, sweat, dried vomit and faeces still not strong enough to hide him. I'd know his scent anywhere; he ruined my life, I'd lost my father and I'd never see my kid brother again. Oh yeah, the Big Bad Wolf was gonna pay.
I padded silently through the back streets, ignoring the terrified yowls of stray cats and the frightened snarls of wandering dogs. They wouldn't bother me, knew all too well I could tear them limb from limb without raising a sweat. Gotta admit, that kind of strength scared me shitless at first, not really knowing what I was capable of, but I soon got used to it, learned how to use it.
That's survival for ya.
Changing form had been painful, both physically and mentally. At first it happened spontaneously; it would be days, sometimes weeks, and then suddenly I'd have no choice but to go with it. To my surprise, human thought and instinct still took priority. I was still in control. As I practiced and my confidence grew, I learned to change at will and the process was no longer quite so painful.
I slowly began to understand that I wasn't just a hairy looking human with extra large teeth. No. It was way cooler than that.
The result? One very big, powerful and intelligent dog.
The low growl was unnecessary but, suddenly, he was right in front of me. Yeah, it was the same wolf all right, but if anything, he seemed bigger, more menacing than ever. I quickly realised why and followed suit, my hackles rising as I snarled angrily.
My anger grew when the bastard appeared to be laughing at me. We began to circle each other slowly, teeth bared, lips curled.
And then something happened, something he did that completely threw me.
So you found me at last...my son. I knew you would survive. Counted on it in fact.
I blinked.
What the fuck...? How's he doing that?
The circling stopped and he almost looked disappointed.
Such language; the result of being raised by humans no doubt...
His voice was actually a deep pleasant timbre in my head, but that didn't mean I trusted him. The wolf's eyes sparkled and shone and I backed up a little until my tail was brushing against hard concrete. I sat back on my haunches and watched in confusion as he slowly approached. He no longer seemed so threatening, looking almost kindly in fact. The big wolf cocked his head slightly, then that smooth deep voice in my head...
But you are my son now.
I stared at him stupidly. Huh?
He suddenly sprang forward and before I knew what was happening his jaws locked round the back of my neck, his weight pushing me down to a submissive crouch.
Fuck that! I submit to no one!
I fought back, tried to turn and bite, jaws snapping, paws scrabbling for freedom, but the bastard was too strong.
Stop that you idiot child! Do you want them to catch us?
As I stilled, he used his grip to turn my head slightly.
See...
I stared along my muzzle, using it like a gun sight, nose twitching. A cop car was slowly passing us on the road, flashlight cutting a wide beam through the darkness of our alley from the front passenger window. The scent of stale doughnuts and coffee made my mouth water and my stomach churn; wolf and human instincts in direct conflict. Reluctantly, I ducked down and we both waited it out. Once the danger had moved on, the wolf released his hold on me and stepped back, glossy coat catching the dull streetlight from ahead, and it struck me again what a magnificent animal he was. Unlike me, I hadn't been looking after myself, so intent on finding the man –wolf- who had destroyed my life.
Destroyed? You think so? The wolf tilted his head again. Your life has only just begun.
He padded forward, eyes shining and I shivered involuntarily, tail drooping, head lowered like a chastised puppy. I couldn't understand the power this guy had over me.
I sired you, therefore I am your father, but you may call me Tobius.If you wish to survive in this world, pup, you will listen to my every word and pay attention! His voice softened, almost affectionate when he continued. Not everything is so black and white, now follow me my son. You have much to learn.
Feeling kinda foolish, and not really knowing what else to do, I complied. By choice. No one was forcing me, let me make that clear. Once he told me all he knew, then I would slaughter the bastard.
I ignored the faint chuckling and we'll see young pup, we'll see in my head and trailed after Tobius, growling softly.
In the coming months, I grew to respect Tobius, albeit reluctantly at first. There was still the pressing issue of him being a ruthless killer but that was soon solved.
Ya see, turned out Tobius was a hunter, but a hunter of his own kind. He hunted non-lunars that crossed the line or drew too much attention to themselves, as well as the poor bastard lunar-dependents who had no idea what they became by the light of the silvery moon. Naturally, Tobius had quite the heart for the latter; they were innocent but couldn't be controlled, so putting them down was always a hard move for him. He'd explained that the lunar-dependents were the result of an unnatural union between a wolf-demon and a human, and, in spite of the tales of myth and legend, weren't really considered to be true werewolves.
The upshot being any werewolf that murdered humans was fair game for Tobius. And he'd been on the trail of one the night he turned me. It was act of instant anger; we'd got in his way and ruined a hunt four months in the making. Four solid months of tracking and tracing, of near misses and false clues, only for three humans to step in and fuck things up completely. Yeah, his reaction was extreme by human standards, but I understood his frustration, and let's face it. He could have killed me outright, had every opportunity in fact.
Tobius was an excellent and patient mentor, and taught me to hunt like a wolf and to live by wolf lore. I learned to understand myself better, to realise that I was a wolf, no longer fully human and things had to change.
I grew to love running and hunting in perfect darkness, learned to feed properly. He taught me that, just like humans, health conscious werewolves choose only the best cuts of meat but never skimp on the fat. Dietary fat is an important energy source and means of keeping warm for werewolves, regardless of which form we may favour. Like Tobius, I spent equal time in human and wolf form, 'cos I'm a good looking guy and it's a shame to waste it.
Daylight was the time for the human form but by night we were truly free as we hunted the murderers amongst our own kind. Tobius referred to them as 'strays'. He explained that non-lunars kept themselves to themselves, preferring to stay off the human radar, but a stray that turned man-eater out of hunger and desperation, or through pleasure, became a threat to our anonymity and must be destroyed.
It was a lot to take in and I ain't the best student, but I soon had it figured out, and I accepted that, by blood, Tobius was my sire and father. I still wasn't sure I understood it, but I believed it. Or felt it.
One major near-disaster solidified our relationship. A human hunter began tracking us; for one crazy moment there I wondered if it was John, but thankfully it wasn't. It was someone far crazier.
His name was Gordon Walker; John had mentioned him a few times, claimed he was a great hunter but definitely not one that played well with the other puppies. We confronted him, told him to back off, but somehow he knew what we were. Usually, it's something only other werewolves can spot, but he knew all right. Gordon didn't seem to realise just who I was but he sure was curious 'cos he attacked me first. He would have been no match for me had it not been for the weapon he carried, and my sire gave me no time to react.
Tobius had grabbed my arm and thrown me clear just as the silver blade buried itself in his left shoulder, and I can honestly say I have never heard anyone or anything howl like that; sure hope never to again. The left shoulder's a damn dangerous place to take a silver hit, being so near the heart, and Tobius was real sick for days after. Gordon Walker got away, but I knew he'd be back.
As time passed an ache grew inside and I knew what or rather who it was.
I missed my family, the one that raised me, and I desperately wanted to see them if only from a distance. I had to know they were ok, but Tobius had made it clear the humans were no longer my family, no longer a part of me. That was a hellish bitter pill to swallow. We were there to protect humans, not befriend them.
I guess I was a little angry at that point; by turning me Tobius made me his and that bond was virtually unbreakable, but losing Dad? Losing Sam? That made him a selfish, uncaring bastard in my eyes, and we argued about it more than once.
I once asked him why me? He just stared at me and his answer really wasn't helpful. Because.
Wow, now that was an inspiration that kept me up at night. Gee thanks Pa!
It was times like this I wondered why I hadn't killed him yet.
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Unlike John, Tobius insisted on breaks between hunts. These short vacations usually took place in the next town or two over, but not this time. He loaded us up in our latest rental, a non-descript, puke-brown sedan - which didn't make me miss the Impala at all – and drove us clear across to the other side of the country.
Tobius remained silent for most of the journey and I wondered if I'd pissed him off somehow. I studied him cautiously in my peripheral vision. Even in human form, Tobius was handsome in a surprisingly thin kinda way; he looked at least ten years younger than John, but I knew looks were deceptive on werewolves. Tobius originally came from the province of Anjou in France, though he spent most of his life in Northern England before coming here, and even he couldn't remember when he was born. But he mentioned watching the young aristocrats with disdain as they eagerly joined the crusades before Jerusalem was sacked by Saladin.
Now I'm no history buff, that was more Sam's thing, but I knew that had to put him at over eight hundred years old!
Guess that proved the immortality theory huh?
Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but contrary to what my little brother thinks (doesn't matter what Tobius told me, Sam was still my little brother) my school years weren't all spent under the bleachers making out with some cheerleader.
Ok some. But not all.
Besides, Sammy once did a school paper on the Knights Templar and asked me to read it through for him. Some of it kinda stuck.
Tobius pulled the car over into the parking lot of a real fancy hotel, handed the keys over to the valet then grinned at me. I must have looked pretty shocked because he started laughing.
Tell me we aint stayin' here?
Why not? I do own the place!
Huh? There I go bein' all intellectual again. But seriously! Guy keeps doing that, just when I think I got him pegged he throws me for another loop.
"You grab the bags and I'll check us in." He spoke aloud this time, presumably for the benefit of the valet.
"Why didn't you tell me about this place?" I winced at the petulant whine.
He just shrugged at me, looking genuinely bewildered by the question.
"I never thought of it 'til now, didn't think it was important." Tobius shrugged again and got out of the car leaving the door open for the valet.
"Didn't think..." I sat there for a long moment, shaking my head, before dragging myself out and trailing after him. I knew that my Sire wasn't short on cash – I hadn't needed to work or hustle in between hunts since I joined him, except for pleasure, and we never stayed in rat infested shitholes, but compared to some of the hovels Dad could afford this was a damn palace!
Crystal chandeliers adorned the lobby casting tiny shards of light on the beautiful ornate staircase directly ahead. Someone in uniform tried to take our bags and Tobius shot me a sharp look when I backed up slightly, hugging our personal belongings protectively.
"Let the fellow take your duffle son." Tobius spoke politely enough but there was an underlying edge to his soft European accent. At first I thought he was annoyed, a silent warning not to embarrass him, but the twinkle in his eyes told me differently. I just grinned back, and let the guy carry my bag. Following Tobius to the lift I had a good look round and couldn't help but stare at the plush surroundings, but it was when we got to our rooms that I was truly stunned.
That's what I said. Rooms. Not room. As in, more than one.
Tobius had a fucking luxury suite of his own at the top of the furthest wing. Decorated in deep reds and dark blues offset by a white tiled floor that sparkled like quartz in the low intimate lighting, and covered with a few thick rugs that my feet just sank into. There were at least two bedrooms, one double, one twin and both with en suite bathrooms. Both bedrooms were lavishly decorated with high ceilings.
I was given the twin, which caused a sharp pang of loneliness deep inside. Since leaving Sam I'd often shared a twin with Tobius, but tonight my sire would have his own room.
I admired everything from the complementary bar to the cathedral sized bathrooms, stared in awe at the fifty inch plasma screen. At that time plasma screens were just starting to emerge and only the very rich could afford them.
Tobius chuckled lightly and swatted me over the head.
"Don't get used to it pup. We're only here for a few nights, and besides, such a life would soften you."
I stared at him.
"You could live like this all the time..."
He merely shrugged.
"Once in a while doesn't hurt and to rest somewhere a little more comfortable is ample reward for our work. Don't you think?"
I didn't know exactly what to think, especially with a little brother out there, somewhere in the world living off cheap and shitty fast food.
"Now!" Tobius pointed at the en suite. "Hit the shower." He wrinkled his nose in mild disgust "You stink young pup!"
The guy had a point. With a glare that only made my sire laugh at me, I stomped into the bathroom to get cleaned up.
When we later headed on down to the restaurant, I was feeling on top of the world – fresh jeans, clean dress shirt and the concierge had virtually spit'n'polished my biker boots. Tobius may have cleaned up my act a little, but it was obviously an annoyance to him that I hadn't graduated from scruffy faded jeans to dress slacks for the evening.
The ladies behind the plush bar didn't seem to mind though and pretty soon I was overwhelmed with offers to serve as our personal bar tenders. Tobius just smiled knowingly, used to all the attention, yet his manner was that of a gentleman when dealing with his staff. That was something else I liked about the guy; in spite of his inherent arrogance he treated everyone he met with respect unless they proved they otherwise deserved it, and he always rewarded hard work and good effort. But that wasn't the reason the ladies were practically fawning over him.
Yeah, there's something about werewolves. Most humans don't believe we exist but they're often drawn to us anyhow, without even realising it.
I could bullshit you into oblivion and claim some mystical crap, but I've told you so much already it wouldn't be fair to tease you about this. Put it this way, ever wondered why you're drawn to certain people, complete strangers you've only just met for the first time, yet feel instantly aware of in a very primal way?
Well, you better sit down for this one folks, 'cos the chances are you just met a werewolf.
Surprised? There are more of us out there than you'd think, and some of us are dangerous. Like I said before, a man-eater or stray wouldn't think twice about gutting you like a pig, and lunar-dependent has no choice about it.
And the password is? Pheromones.
We each give off our own individual set of pheromones and each species of werewolf has its own unique scent. Humans can't smell it in the same way we can but they pick up something, and it either turns them on or scares 'em.
We rarely use aftershave unless we need to cover our tracks; we find it easy enough to get what we want or need, but it also helps that our species of werewolf in human form are naturally extremely charming and attractive.
So when Tobius sired me, he pretty much did the damn impossible: improved on perfection. Hey! Don't look at me in that tone of voice huh? I'm just telling it how it is!
Ain't my fault I'm damn gorgeous.
That evening, with the waitresses smiling and nodding as they poured wine and water, Tobius had introduced me to the concept of steak tartare, which ain't just rare it's downright raw. Good quality minced steak with spices and brown sugar. At first, I was sceptical but the smell... oh boy!
We ate in a companionable silence, ignoring the vegetables and French fries but savouring our double order of steak. Tobius smiled at me affectionately when my stomach growled even after two large steaks, and immediately ordered another.
Another big change. A werewolf's metabolic rate is damn high and requires constant attention; Tobius soon had me settled into a routine of ten full meals a day, and that didn't include any fresh kills made at night in wolf form. We may be immortal, but we can still get sick if not eating properly and that puts us at risk.
Oh, and another thing to note; werewolves don't require much sleep if eating properly, unless of course wounded. Usually, we do most of our resting during the mini-vacations; that's often enough to see us through the month.
Tobius passed on dessert but ordered me a slice of chocolate fudge cake with French vanilla ice cream and hot fudge sauce. It was the best I'd ever tasted and within a matter of a few minutes I was pretty much licking the bowl clean.
"Dean," a soft firm voice made me look up into an amused face. "Do at least try to remember where you are." Tobius drawled, mouth twitching.
I self-consciously placed the crystal dessert bowl back on the table but couldn't help smirking at some of the shocked faces on the other guests.
Tobius tapped my arm gently.
"Come on let's go. We have somewhere very special to be tonight."
I followed him to the car, occasionally glancing over in bewilderment. I'm sure he knew I was dying to ask but said nothing, just left me to stew.
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An hour or so into the journey and the car slowed, eventually pulling into the parking lot of a motel. It was a run down, seedy joint that a plague rat wouldn't have been seen dead in... and it was at this point I tried to remember when these places started bothering me. John hadn't cared much, so long as we had a roof over our heads, but then I guess beggars can't be choosers.
"What are we doing here?" I glanced around. Perhaps we were going to meet some fellow hunters after months of it just being me and my sire.
Tobius smiled sadly and pointed to the block of rooms furthest away. I felt my eyes widen as I took in the familiar black car, but it was the equally familiar figure standing nearby, dumping a bag of trash in the garbage bin, that really caught my attention.
"Sammy?" I whispered, almost afraid he would vanish into thin air if I so much as moved.
"I've been tracking them for some time." Tobius offered quietly. "Keeping an eye on them both for you, but, well...I couldn't leave it alone when I realised what was happening to him. I'm only sorry it took me so long to figure it out." I felt his intense eyes on me as I stared out the window. "I've managed to distract John for approximately forty five minutes, so go on. Go get your Sammy."
I was barely paying attention and if I had I might have moved sooner. Tobius was bringing me here just for a visit, right? But he was still looking at me strangely.
Stepping out of the rental I could feel my hands shaking with nerves and stuffed them into my jacket pockets.
Sam had grown taller since I last saw him over sixth months ago, his hair longer and a worrying hunch to his shoulders that I didn't recall ever seeing on him before. As I moved closer, I also noticed how thin and frail he'd become, baby fat completely gone replaced with lank, poorly defined muscles.
"Hey kiddo." My call stayed soft, trying not to scare him. "Long time no see."
Sam's head snapped up and both of us received a shock. His eyes widened in instant recognition and suddenly I had a trembling Sammy in my arms. My shock was for a very different, darker reason. The kid's face was a mess of cuts and bruises, accompanied by a broken nose and a long scar stretching from the right eyebrow down to his chin.
"I can't believe you're here. Thought I'd never see you again," he sobbed over and over, and I realised Sam was broken in more ways than one.
Someone had broken him.
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Author's notes:
Our poor Sam has obviously been hurt and Dean's about to find out the why and who...Be prepared for fireworks in more ways than one boys and girls!
Kind regards,
ST xxx