Chapter 6: In the Wolfs' Den

Ula-D

Today at 12:01 AM

Does anyone know anything about how to get rid of stalkers? Like, the kind that you can't get rid of just by ghosting? I'm having a real problem getting anyone to help me with this. PM me if you have any ideas.

Clawdeen Wolf

Reply to Ula-D: Today at 10:52 AM

Is everything okay? It's been days and you still won't tell us what's wrong. Come on. Get it together and tell your ghouls what's up.

Clawdeen pocketed her iCoffin, pressed her palms against her eyes and growled quietly. Draculaura had only given them a theme a couple of days ago. As it stood, she had done nothing else that would have facilitated the progression of their project. No matter how much she, Cleo, or any of the other ghouls tried to contact Draculaura, she didn't answer them. It was as if they were the ones who Draculaura was attempting to ghost. Along with being forced to wait at the gates of Monster High, it was sure to be another frustrating day.

"It's Draculaura, isn't it?" Frankie asked.

Clawdeen nodded, then answered, "She's publicly askin' for PM's about how to get rid o' someone. I mean, is she tryin' to get herself in trouble!?"

"That doesn't sound so bad. Maybe she just doesn't think any of us can help her."

Clawdeen bit her lips and sighed through her nose. "Frankie, honey, I know you're still kinda new around here, so I'll let it slide this once. Draculaura's invitin' anyone from anywhere to talk to her privately. Who knows what kind o' perverts an' weirdos are gonna bite?"

"Oh. I see," Frankie sheepishly said, having already learned the dangers of being too trusting, yet still falling into it whenever she didn't mean to. "So, who do you think she's trying to get rid of?"

"I don't know. You told us what she did at the maul. It's like that ghoul is tryin' to make her own problems."

"That sounds a bit harsh. I mean, nobody tries to make their own problems," Frankie said.

"You'd be surprised," Clawdeen shrugged.

She and Frankie waited some more by the gate, idling the seconds away by taking in the summer scenery. But there were still the little things that nagged them.

"How come the others ain't here yet?" Clawdeen asked

"I guess they had other plans," Frankie replied. "Lagoona went with Gill to some kind of market…fair…thing, I don't remember what it was exactly. Jackson already had plans with Deuce and Clawd. And Cleo's still supposed to be on her way with Mistress Bloodgood to get the gate open."

Clawdeen growled quietly to herself and leaned back against the wall. More than anything she wanted to get this leg of their project done with and move on to the more important things. So long as they had an area mapped out, they could begin negotiating the larger scale operations. How to get the materials to set up a stage. And then get the materials to manufacture the clothes to display. Set up a catering menu for the event. And finding enough help to pull it all off.

"Wait! I think I have an idea!" Frankie blurted out.

Before Clawdeen had a chance to ask, Frankie trotted over to the front gate and knelt down to the lock.

"I've seen this done before. Just give me a sec…" she said as she unscrewed her bolts from her neck.

Clawdeen raised an eyebrow as she watched Frankie rub her bolts together, then tapped them against the lock.

"Thing of the earth to thing of the earth, I twist you so," Frankie said

Clawdeen wanted to smirk, but didn't know if she wanted to grimace instead.

"Wait. Let me try it the other way," Frankie said. She touched her bolts to the lock again. "Portal made of iron and brass, open up and let us pass."

Nothing.

"Oh. Maybe the gate doesn't have any brass in it," Frankie said.

"I don't think it works like that," Clawdeen said.

"Why not?" Frankie wondered.

"'Cause you're not a witch, an' those ain't no athame," Clawdeen said, pointing to Frankie's bolts.

"Then how does it work?" Frankie asked, placing her bolts back on her neck.

"Dunno. I never tried it," Clawdeen replied, leaning back against the wall.

Clawdeen descended the stairs, ready to begin her last outing with Wolf before the next school year. She had made herself look her absolute best for their date. Her hair had turned out better than she could have thought, and she applied her makeup accordingly. Now that she was completely ready, she was going to give him the best time they ever had together since that fateful Christmas ball.

When she was halfway down the stairs, she heard a familiar voice.

"Come!"

There was no mistaking the voice of Pawla, her youngest sister. Clawdeen continued down the stairs until she was able to see into the den, where she saw Wolf knelt down on the floor next to Pawla, who was jabbing her finger at her favorite stuffed animal.

"Come!" Pawla repeated.

Despite her authoritative command, the little kangaroo remained still.

Over on the couch, Clawd and Howleen watched the spectacle their sister was making. Joining them was their father, Clawrk, who was watching with what could only be identified as morbid curiosity about what was going on. Down on the floor beside Pawla, Wolf smiled as he watched the little werewolf jab her finger again.

"Think about it like this, Pawla: what's that kangaroo to you, and what do you want it to do?," Wolf said.

"It's my dolly. An' I want it to come to me," Pawla plainly answered.'

"But you really need to know what it is. What it means to you and how it makes you feel. Why it makes you feel that way and why you want it to come to you."

Clawdeen smiled as she watched Pawla stare blankly at Wolf, his instructions going right over her young head.

"Well…go ahead and answer him, Pawla," Clawrk said as calmly as he could.

"It's alright, Mr. Wolf. I didn't get it when my dad explained it to me the first time," Wolf said.

Clawrk hadn't met Wolf directly before. He had seen him from a distance and heard about him endlessly from Clawdeen, as well as from his wife, who had been able to observe him more closely. Yet for all that secondhand knowledge, he still knew very little about the boy. Now as he sat mere feet from him, he began to understand the unease that his wife had described. Still, there was the chance to learn more.

"Your dad? Uh, what does he do?" Clawrk wondered.

"He was a musician. He taught me everything I know."

"I see. And he's also a…"

"A witch. He did witchcraft. He taught me that too," Wolf said.

Clawdeen groaned when she heard that exchange.

Clawrk collected himself and carried on as best he could, "I'm sure your dad is proud of you for getting the hang of his lessons."

Over on the couch, Clawd and Howleen quietly signaled for their father to abort that particular train of thought.

"I'm sure he would be. He's dead now, so I can't exactly ask him," Wolf said, almost dismissively.

"Well, I'd love to stick around, but I have some billing left to do," Clawrk said, quickly standing up and walking out of the room.

Clawdeen watched as her father hurried down the hall as soon as he was out of sight of the others. The first time they met face to face, they both blew their first impression. And Clawdeen couldn't decide which of them she was more disappointed in.

Back in the den, everyone there was watching the direction that Clawrk had left. In the wake of his departure, Wolf decided to take everyone's mind off of that ugly business.

"Hey, Pawla. Maybe your kangaroo will listen to you better if I draw a circle first. You know your shapes, don't you?" Wolf asked.

"Uh-huh. A circle's the one with no corners," Pawla proudly instructed.

"Really? That's not what I learned. I always thought they had four," Wolf said.

"That's a square, silly," Pawla giggled.

"You're blowing my mind here. I must have had some crappy teachers growing up."

Clawdeen tried not to laugh, then sat down on the stairs to watch through the banister what was unfolding. Perhaps things could get better still.

And it seemed that they were. From his seat on the couch, Clawd huffed quietly through his smirk as he watched his youngest sister play with his friend. His smirk faded immediately when he watched Wolf's raised fingertip begin swirling with his shadowy magic. Next to him, Howleen leaned forward in eager anticipation.

"I have an idea," Wolf said, "Why don't you show me a circle? Teach an old Wolf a new trick."

"You're not old," Pawla said.

"Am too. Do you have any idea how big sixteen is? I'm turning seventeen in November. I'll be ready for a wheelchair in another year or two. Now help me draw a circle before my memory starts to go and I forget my own name," Wolf said.

Clawd cautiously watched as Pawla grabbed Wolf by his wrist and moved his arm in a slow, circular motion. The whole time, he had his shadowy finger pointed at the stuffed kangaroo on the floor.

No matter how many times she saw it, Clawdeen was always in awe when she saw Wolf work his magic. On the floor around the toy, she watched as a circle of waving shadows appeared.

Pawla gasped as she watched the shadows appear, but she kept going until the circle was complete.

"Okay. Now try calling it. Don't break eye contact with it. Don't even blink. Just focus on it. Know what it means to you. Then tell it that you want it to come. And really mean it," Wolf said.

Pawla could feel a surge of confidence and unease as she watched the shadows which swayed like rows of wheat in the wind. With this little bit of magic, she knew would be able to pull off her first spell.

"Come!" she shouted, pointing at the toy.

Still, the kangaroo remained where it was.

Clawdeen shook her head, knowing that nothing else could have been expected.

Howleen watched as Pawla kept jabbing her finger at the stuffed toy. Then she looked at Wolf and nodded her head emphatically at the motionless kangaroo.

Wolf nodded in return and conjured his magic onto his fingertip once more. He pointed at the stuffed kangaroo and commanded it, "Hop to it!"

The kangaroo wobbled to its feet and turned to face Pawla, who smiled at the sight of her toy looking at her. With little hops, the kangaroo made its way to Pawla, who had her arms spread to receive it.

"Oh my ghoul," Clawdeen mouthed as she watched the kangaroo hop one last time into Pawla's waiting arms.

Pawla laughed happily as she squeezed her toy, which went limp once more as soon as she had a hold of it.

"She starts kindergarten when summer's over, ya know. Ya really want her to try castin' spells on the other kids there?" Clawd said.

"Sure. What if some little punk steals her crayons? Shouldn't she be able to get them back without hurting anyone?" Wolf asked.

"I don't want my crayons took!" Pawla said.

"That's why you don't let the other kids give you any crap," Wolf said to Pawla. His chain then started slithering around the floor, directing his shadow to pick up any loose toys, "I remember when I was in first grade. Some guy stole my milk. So I cursed it to curdle as he was drinking it."

"Gross!" Howleen laughed as she lifted her feet for the chain to snake beneath the couch she sat on.

Clawdeen felt a pang of nausea, remembering the first time Wolf had told her that story. Only he spared Pawla the worst details.

"How about turnin' a kid into a caterpillar?" Howleen asked.

"I can't teach Pawla that. I don't even know how to do it," Wolf said.

"You tryin' to get her kicked out o' school before she loses her first tooth?" Clawd asked.

"What's the big deal? I got kicked out of school lots of times and look how I turned out," Wolf dismissively said.

From the metal decorations that looked like monster fangs on his boots to the wild locks of blonde hair, Clawd had a pretty good picture of how Wolf had turned out. Blunt as a brick. Coarse as sandpaper. Belligerent. Violent. And completely resistant to changing any of that. But as he watched Pawla laugh as a castle made of building blocks was constructed around her by Wolf's shadow, and her kangaroo sprang to life once more and asked in Wolf's voice what game the princess would like to play, Clawd thought that maybe there was some reason he stayed friends with him.

"Clawdeen!"

A voice down the hall at the bottom of the stairs pulled Clawdeen's attention from the den.

"Comin', mom," Clawdeen answered.

Wolf barely had time to see Clawdeen as she hurried past the den. Any other time, he would have tried to catch her up. As it stood, he still had to concentrate on his spell to make Pawla's kangaroo play follow-the-leader.

Clawdeen placed her pocketbook on a halfmoon table in the hall, before she had to dodge two of her younger siblings who she couldn't tell if they were playing tag or wrestling. Past them, she made it to the kitchen where her mother, Hairriet, was busily cleaning up rows of dishes from the table.

"Clawdeen, when are you gonna get that bathroom cleaned?" she said, never stopping a moment.

"I took care of it, mom. I swept an' everything," Clawdeen said.

"But ya didn't unclog the drain," Hairriet said, turning the knob on the nearby sink, demonstrating the weak water pressure. "I swear, the rate you lose hair, you're gonna look like ya have mange. What's in that shampoo ya use?" she asked. "Don't just stand there! Get some o' these dishes! You ate too!"

"I had, like, one bite. I'm goin' out with Wolf for dinner," Clawdeen said, stacking up dishes as quickly as her mother. She then stepped out of the way of one of her younger brothers, who dashed out from under the table.

"You sat. You ate. You pay the bill. Since I don't see no cash, you work it off. Get busy," Hairriet said.

Clawdeen growled under her breath and hauled the dishes over to the sink.

"This better not make me late," she said.

"Late for what? What's that boy got ya doin' this time?" Hairriet asked.

"He doesn't got me doin' anything. This date was my idea."

"What're you doin?" Hairriet practically demanded.

"We're just goin' for dinner an' a walk in the park," Clawdeen said.

"Where in the park? Not anywhere where no one can see you? No wild animals around?" Hairriet said, yanking one of her pups by her collar away from the cookie jar on the counter. "You had your cookie already, Clawrissa! Go get your laundry in the dryer like I told you this mornin'! Now answer me, Clawdeen. Where in the park?"

"I don't know. The gazebo. The fountain," Clawdeen answered.

"There gonna be other people there?" Hairriet asked.

"It's the park, mom! Lot's o' people go there–" Clawdeen paused when a sudden realization hit her. "You still think he's gonna haul me to the woods an' get me doin' animal sacrifices, don't you?"

"Yeah! Catch a rabbit for me! I wanna have rabbit stew!" another one of Clawdeen's younger brothers said.

The back of the boy's head was slapped by his mother, before Hairriet turned back to Clawdeen.

"That's not what I'm sayin', Clawdeen," Hairriet tried to explain.

"What are you sayin'? Last time you made me wear a cross so I wouldn't catch any curses!" Clawdeen said, showing the crucifix necklace that was hidden beneath her shirt.

"I just think you should be careful–" Hairriet began.

"Why? What's he gonna do? Steal my voice? Make a tornado blow our house to the merry ol' land of Ooze?"

"I already tried that at home once, but the house ended up falling on me instead," Wolf said from the kitchen door.

The moment she heard his voice, Clawdeen hid the cross she was wearing. However struck Hairret was for being overheard, Clawdeen was moreso. It was never a secret that her mother didn't entirely approve of Wolf. She had seen him fight with other kids at school, heard the dark topics of the music he played, and didn't seem to want to understand the nature of his unorthodox discipline at all. Only, Wolf had never been so close to hear about it so blatantly.

"Pawla wanted me to try one of the cookies she helped you make," Wolf said.

"Can he, mommy? Please?" Pawla asked.

"Well–" Hairriet looked between her children. Then at Wolf, who simply waited in the doorway. She glanced at his shadow, which was pacing back and forth as it idled. "-Alright. Sure."

Pawla hurried to the cookie jar and produced a single snickerdoodle, which she delivered to Wolf. Once he had it, Wolf bit into one end, tasting next to nothing before he swallowed, then picked Pawla up so that she was perched on his forearm.

"That's good stuff. Did you put that extra sweetness in there?" Wolf asked Pawla.

"I just did what mommy said," Pawla answered.

"Good thing. There's a saying we have in Germany: 'Mutter weiß am besten.' And it's true, too. So always listen to what your mommy says," Wolf said, tapping the tip of Pawla's nose.

Pawla didn't speak a word of German, but Clawdeen thought she could guess after the brief language lessons she had with Wolf. But even if Pawla didn't understand, she still nodded.

"Looks like you need a hand," Wolf said as he looked over the messy kitchen. He raised his index finger, which began swirling with magic. "Pawla? Can you show me a circle again? Show me a really big one this time."

Pawla readily took hold of Wolf's wrist and traced the same shape as before. Once again a dark circle appeared, this time around the entire table. Wolf began to whisper a chant, sounding as if two different words were being layered on top of one another as if he had two different voices issuing from him.

The dishes on the table rattled slightly, before they all made their own way over to the sink. Plates set themselves up on their edges and rolled to the end of the table, where they hopped onto the counter beside the sink. Forks and knives followed suit, marching like a row of soldiers as they went, before diving into the sink.

Hairriet stood as far as she could from the animated dinnerware and the shadowy circle, never blinking even once as she watched everything set itself neatly in the sink down to the last fork. Once that was done, the circle disappeared with a swing of Wolf's chain.

"I think I heard you say you needed a drain snaked?" Wolf said, brandishing his chain.

"That's alright. Why don't you kids go get your date started? I'll take care o' the drain," Hairriet said.

"Alright," Wolf casually said, placing Pawla back on the floor. "Come on, Clawdeen. Let's get to the steakhouse. See you around, Mrs. Wolf."

Wolf left without another word. Nor did Clawdeen say anything, though she gave her mother a weary glance before she followed after her boyfriend and collected her pocketbook in the hall.

Clawd and Howleen were still sitting on the couch when they heard the others walking toward the den.

"Sorry about my mom," Clawdeen said, "she just doesn't get the whole…ya know…"

"It's okay. To her credit, she's been a lot nicer than some other moms I met," Wolf said. He then bumped his fist against Clawd's and said his goodbyes to him.

Even though it was probably nothing, something about what Wolf said struck Clawdeen in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Wolf opened his mouth to say something, when he heard a shout from above.

There was no measure to how fast Wolf dodged the young werewolf leaping from the second floor, caught him around his waist and hauled him over his shoulders.

"You gotta do better than that, Howlard. Don't you know wolves aren't ambush predators?" Wolf said, jabbing his finger between Howlard's eyes.

Howleen laughed hysterically while Clawd groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Suddenly a second attacker jumped from between him and Howleen at Wolf, whose chain moved on its own accord and caught Howlard's twin, Howlmilton, by his ankles.

"Pack tactics? You're learning," Wolf said.

Howlmilton growled ferociously as he wildly swung his claws, spinning himself around and getting tangled up in his own shirt as he hung suspended by the chain.

Wolf smirked and plopped the twins onto the floor.

"Sorry I can't stay to fight, kids. I have to go out and do weird things to your big sister," Wolf said.

"Wolf!" Clawdeen said, cuffing the back of Wolf's head with her pocketbook.

"Come on. We won't do anything worse than a little blood magic," Wolf said, waving his shadowy hands menacingly.

Clawdeen pushed his hand back to his side and pressed her pocketbook against his chest. "Baby, you're already pushin' your luck with that kitchen stunt."

"Psh. You're gonna treat bussing tables like it's necromancy?" Wolf scoffed.

"Clawdeen!" Clawrk called from down the hall.

They all watched as the Wolf household patriarch came trotting down the hall, reached into his pocket and produced a bill, which he offered to Clawdeen.

"Here's dinner. An' a little bit extra," he said.

"How much is that?" Howleen asked, trying to get a good look at the bill.

Clawd put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back down to the couch.

"Come on! I only get, like, ten bucks for lunch money!" Howleen protested.

Clawd slapped his hand over Howleen's mouth, silencing her.

"Clawd! Get your hand off your sister," Hairriet said as she walked into the room to see her daughter off. "You two go have fun now. But don't do anything…unnecessary."

"Okay, mom," Clawdeen said, turning to leave.

"An' please, try to get back home before midnight," Hairriet said.

"No problem, Mrs. Wolf. I'm german. You know? Punctuality über alles," Wolf said as he backpedaled toward the door. Clawdeen opened the door for them to leave, and Wolf raised his hand in that familiar horned gesture, making Clawdeen's parents flinch. "Segnen dies Wolfshöhle. Möge Ihr Fell bleiben glänzend und dick für immer."

Once he was past the door, Wolf's chain wrapped itself around the doorknob and closed the door.

"I wish he'd speak english when he does that," Hairriet sighed.

Unseen by all who were present, Pawla was tracing the shape of a circle and jabbing her finger at anything she could see.

From: Once_Everything

That Ghosting Problem?

Once_Everything

Today at 3:00 AM

Hey, I saw that post you put up about trying to ditch someone. Seems like kind of a douchey thing to publicly ask for ways to do it.

Ula-D

Today at 8:06 AM

It's not like that. I don't know how else to explain it, but it's like something has attached itself to me and won't leave me alone now. It's like a stalker, but it's also something worse than that. And unless you can do anything to help me, don't bother talking to me anymore.

Once_Everything

Today at 8:21 AM

I bet there's a story about that. Tell it to me, and I might be able to help.

A/N: It looks like Clawdeen was right about Draculaura inviting any weirdo to talk to her. Seems like Draculaura just keeps getting herself into deeper and deeper trouble. Who knows what will happen to her next?

This was a fun chapter to write. How Wolf has meshed in with Clawdeen's family was something I wondered about. I figured that a lot of the kids would get along with him, but a few are probably afraid of him as well. For obvious reasons, I also supposed that Clawdeen's parents wouldn't really like their daughter dating Wolf. Their attitude toward Wolf is not unlike how regular people thought of witches in the olden days, where they would stay at arm's length and keep the witch appeased with offerings, or else suffer a curse from witchcraft. Also, which one of you would want your daughter dating a thuggish loner?

More than that, this chapter was written as a way of explaining why Clawd and the other guys are still friends with Wolf. Realistically speaking, nobody would want to be around a guy who gets in fights and seems like he's going to curse your clothes to shrink if you breathe at him wrong. That is unless there was more to him than just being gruff and mean.

Hairriet's concerns about having her daughter home before midnight stem from the superstition that this is considered 'the witching hour,' when a witch's powers are supposedly the strongest. This is not true. In real life folklore, the witching hour is believed to be 3:00 AM.

I'm sure a lot of you are familiar with Clawdeen's mom, but less so with her dad. That's because he's only mentioned in Clawdeen's merchandise. Aside from that, he's only mentioned in passing in some of the literature.

You probably already guessed it, but the reference to a house falling on Wolf is a reference to The Wizard of Oz, wherein a wicked witch is killed by having a house fall on her. It was bound to come up sooner or later, so why not now?

Last time, I pointed out how when Wolf writes his letters to the others, he uses European grammar. Did you notice that when he speaks german, it's written using german grammar? Specifically, how all nouns, not just proper nouns, are capitalized. That and the use of umlauts to signify a change in pronunciation of certain vowels.

Some of you probably noticed that in this chapter, witchcraft is referred to as a discipline instead of a religion. This is because that's actually what witchcraft is. Real witchcraft is not a religion where you worship anything. It's a set of disciplinary guidelines that you practice, a lot like Buddhism (although a lot of people conflate the Buddha with a deity). Like, if anyone tells you that 'wicca' is the same as witchcraft, it isn't and they're lying (or at least misinformed).

I bet a lot of you think that I myself might be a witch. I am not. But my aunt is a practicing witch, and she has been a great help with providing me with knowledge about witches and witchcraft, both the history and the practices.

Finally, I wrote a book. It's called Secret Seekers: The Hidden girl, and you can buy it on the Lulu website. I recommend it for fans of fantasy, slice of life, humor, and for audiences of things like Monster High and Thea Stilton.