This chapter contains themes some may find disturbing…
Reader discretion is advised :)
Cover Art: Kirire
Chapter 56
Tomorrow's Promise. That was the flowery and fanciful name they'd come up with to describe the temporal anomaly they'd been sucked into. It was just a little threatening, a warning, and Blake spent the following night and day double-guessing herself at odd times, asking herself if she was going the right way through time, or if they were even in the right timeline at all. She'd spent hours awake at night on her scroll checking recent events and big moments in history, expecting with dread to come across some radical change that would reveal she was in the wrong place.
Nothing like that happened but it drove home just how terrifying the concept was. Anything could have changed, or everything, and they'd have had no way of knowing. What would have happened if Jaune was left in there but she escaped? If he was erased then she'd have never been hired by ARC Corp, so presumably her bank accounts would cease to exist and she'd be homeless. Would she remember? Would she be the only one to remember? Or would her mind be altered as well, leaving her roaming the streets in a suit too expensive for her, trying to make sense of where she was and what she was doing? It might have gone further and removed her reconciliation with her parents, undone every case they solved, and resurrected Winter Schnee.
It was all too much to consider and yet she couldn't do anything but consider. Hours spent awake, a red-eyed morning breakfast at her diner hunched over a coffee and a hot meal stabbing her fork woodenly into her eggs and toast. It haunted her. It was ironic, in a way, that she feared this more than she did huge monstrosities and actively aggressive creatures that would have hunted her as prey. At least she could fight those.
Finishing her meal and downing her coffee, she tipped generously as a silent apology for her week of being an emotionless monster and trudged back to their office. Her body craved sleep but her mind wouldn't let her. She wondered how Jaune was coping as she knocked once and let herself in. Timothy made a pleased sound but didn't leave his bowl of dried crickets; Jaune, on the other hand, looked up from his laptop with bloodshot eyes.
Blake grunted. "Up all night making sure this is the correct timeline?"
"After several interviews with Saphron and a grilling interrogation from my father, I am convinced we are in our timeline. At the very least there isn't another pair of us out on a job somewhere that are going to come back and run into us."
"That's good." Blake took to her nest, the comfortable sofa, and swung her feet up onto the coffee table. "And there's no news of the house appearing again? No news of it ever doing that?"
"None. The history I found of it was accurate, but what I missed – and I don't know how; anomalous shenanigans I think – is that it was condemned and sold, to be torn down and replaced with a restaurant. The house hasn't been standing for four months now. I'm also not sure if it came from the past or the future. Common sense says past, but we can't be sure what happens in the future. Maybe the restaurant is knocked down and another house is built."
"Or maybe it exists in a time where it was never knocked down."
"Or that," agreed Jaune. "If we think of timelines as threads running parallel to ours then having one timeline where it wasn't demolished would, in a sense, create a paradox. I think." He waved a hand. "It's all very theoretical to be honest. All you need to know is ARC Corp are watching us to make sure we don't go all crazy or incorporeal."
"And they'll kill us if we do?"
"They probably won't have to…"
"Joy." Blake groaned and covered her eyes with one arm. "And I was just thinking how lovely today is."
"It's about to get worse, I'm afraid. We have a job." Blake's groan was loud, miserable and drawn out longer than it had any right to be. Jaune nodded and continued. "I'm afraid so. When it rains, it pours. And hey, you were complaining a while ago about things being boring."
"Shut up."
"Ahah." He scratched his cheek. "On the bright side, we can't really begin the job until night-time so you can have the rest of the day off to sleep. I know I'll be taking it." That was a relief. "But the job, ah, it's… well… you like reading. How much do you like the dark fantasy genre?"
Blake glared at him. "I've a feeling I'm about to like it a lot less. Please not vampires."
"Not vampires," he said, nodding. "We've had no news of Blood that Feeds in the last three years, which is a very good thing. Trust me, being a vampire hunter is neither as fun nor as sexy as those books of yours makes it out to be."
"That's good-"
"This is werewolves."
"Damn it, Jaune…" Blake sighed. "Okay, right. So, werewolves are an actual thing now?"
"They've always been a thing, we think. But if you're talking about the book and movie idea of them? Yeah, no. They're not much like that. Some of that was us, but not all. Turns out people have been writing fiction of humans turning into monsters for thousands of years – though it's only in the last ten or so that those stories turned sexy. Which, by the way, is really freaking creepy. I get the allure of a dangerous character with a wild side, but what's with all those stories where they literally have sex as werewolves?"
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Don't you read-"
"Not that kind of material!" Blake's face was bright red. Romance, yes, and the occasional smut, but Blake was very much in the camp of liking it when the characters were in a human form when they had sex, thank you very much. Vanilla, the more feral online community might have called her. "And hang on a second. Humans to monsters. Couldn't that be our anomalous transformations?"
"It absolutely could be." Jaune snapped his fingers at pointed at her. "But it could also be other things – the most anticlimactic of which is idiots getting killed by normal wolves in the wild and coming back to blame it on huge, monstrous creatures because fear made them see things that weren't there. There are also suggestions these early cases might just have been murders, and the killer blamed it on local folklore. Anyway, we're digressing. Point is, we're hunting werewolves."
"Can we digress just a little more? Specifically, to explaining exactly what werewolves are. Do they transform? Is it a full moon? Are they wild creatures or normal people who lose their minds? Are we hunting them to capture or kill?"
"Do you want that talk now, or later on the transport after a full day's sleep?"
Blake chose sleep.
/-/
It was nine in the evening when a Bullhead carried their two-man ATV on steel cables into the wilderness south-west of Vale and dropped them off in a clearing next to a frankly gargantuan forest. The cables detached and the Bullhead wheeled away, leaving the two of them alone in a truck with the headlights blasting toward the trees.
"So," said Blake. "Werewolves…"
"You really have no patience."
"I'd like to be informed before I run into one."
"Fine. Fine. So, werewolves are… let's start by saying what they're not. They're absolutely not humans who turn into wolves under the full moon. In fact, they're not humans at all – never have been and never will be. What we're looking at here is something we're not even fully sure is an anomaly at all; it could be evolution. Course, it's anomalous in the strange definition, so we work with it all the same. The only difference is we're surprisingly hands-off with this one."
"Even your father and sisters?"
"Even them. There are probably close to half a million of them. Don't call them werewolves by the way – they've seen the movies and hate that."
"What do I call them?"
"Nothing. They don't have a word for it. Just use pronouns. You, he, she, them. It's all fine. And in case that didn't clue you in, they're intelligent." He winced. "Sort of."
Blake's eyebrows rose. "Sort of…?"
"There's intelligent and then there's smart. They're not both. Look, basically we're looking at a race of wolf-human hybrids that are a cross between wild animal and furry's wet dream, except less yiffing and more tearing flesh open with their teeth."
Blake had to know. "Was ARC Corp responsible for furries?"
Jaune's grimace was legendary. "No comment. A-Anyway," he looked away from her judging gaze. "They are effectively a civilisation and society all of their own, but that doesn't mean they're humanlike. They may walk like us, and they can talk like us, but their thought processes and society are wildly different. The two species aren't going to be able to live together peacefully. Believe us, we've seen what happens when they try. They operate in large pack-like groups and are very focused on physical strength and intimidation. Wolflike behaviour."
"Do the Grimm attack them?"
"Yes – and they fight back quite well, so keep that in mind. You might be stronger than them as a huntress, but on average they are much more physically capable than us. They also have a thing for fighting."
"A thing?"
"Honestly, you could call it a way of life. They love fighting. Like, all the time. That's part of why cooperation with humans is a bad idea is. They have a raiding and pillaging mentality, except that it's considered deeply honourable to raid a village, kill its defenders, steal their women and… well…" He looked away. "You get the picture. The worst part is it goes both ways. If a werewolf female has her home attacked, her husband slain and her children killed, well, she's probably going to be A-okay with mating with the one who did it."
Blake grimaced. The rest, she could have explained away as violent human behaviour but this was beyond that. It was animalistic and quite frankly horrible. Worst of all, it wasn't unseen in animals. It was common for some predatory animals to kill the young of other males and then mate with the female, and while the female would obviously try and defend its young, they would still mate with the alpha afterwards. She was all for cooperation and peace but this really didn't sound like the kind of thing you could ignore, not when mingling humans with them. If the werewolves decided they wanted something, then they might just kill the person who had it and take it for themselves. Then kill anyone who came by to demand justice.
"Great." Blake sighed. "How hard is keeping the existence of super-violent werewolves under wraps?"
"Actually, it's super easy. Barely an inconvenience."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. See, they also don't really like us because of how soft we are, and they prefer nature – so they're more than happy to stick to their own parts of the world and avoid us. Sure, a few people probably run into them and die – which isn't ideal – but they do a good job of keeping themselves secret so that we don't have to. Also, humanity is kind of already screwed by the Grimm and trapped inside cities, towns and villages. There are huge swathes of land that they just assume is infested by the Grimm." He shrugged. "We're not going to tell them otherwise."
That was a lot to take in but not unreasonable. There was a lot of land unexplored and she shouldn't be surprised anomalies had taken advantage of the chaos to carve out little parts of the world for themselves. As long as they didn't encroach on human land, that was fine. Blake assumed that was the problem in this case.
"So, this group we're looking for. They're fairly close to Vale. Are they threatening to attack villages around here or something? Is that why we're here – to warn them to turn back or face the wrath of ARC Corp?"
Jaune sighed and turned on the ignition. "I fucking wish…"
He wouldn't answer beyond that, only grumbling that she should "wait and see" and that she "wouldn't believe it if I explained it". He didn't look immediately fearful of an attack however, so she sat back and watched as he navigated slowly between the trees.
They weren't that far from Vale, only about an hour by flight. It wasn't close enough that anyone would be out here, but they could get this far out if they really wanted to. It was also close enough that any denizens could, if they so desired, make the trek to Vale in under a day. That would be problematic, she expected, because a young werewolf who didn't know better could easily stray close to Vale and be spotted. The people there might assume them a Grimm and open fire, but their body wouldn't fade like a Grimm's did. It would hit the news and be talked about everywhere. ARC Corp could probably obfuscate that as a rare capturing of a Grimm corpse, but even that would raise eyebrows among the huntsman communities. They knew more than anyone what a Grimm was, and what a Grimm wasn't. If the werewolves lacked bone plates and red eyes then they'd start realising this was something else.
And huntsmen could travel these parts of the world. Huntsmen absolutely could go out and explore and reveal things ARC Corp would rather stay hidden. It was really for the best if no one got a whiff of this. That any disappearances in the woods be blamed on Grimm or wild animals.
"We're close," said Jaune, gripping the wheel tight. "Prepare yourself – and remember, they're not human. Different culture, different rules, different values. Don't try and force ours on them. We're the foreigners here."
"And what's our job exactly here?"
"To make sure that they don't become a Reality-Class anomaly. Look, you'll understand once we get there. If I explain it now then you'll have millions of questions and we'll never get started. Just keep in mind the extremes ARC Corp will go to in order to keep things secret. Remember that, Blake. No sacrifice is too great." He brought the car to a stop. "We're close. We'll enter on foot. They don't like vehicles. The sounds hurt their ears and the smell their noses. Makes them aggressive out of discomfort."
Blake opened the door and hopped out. The second she did, a stinging stench assaulted both her nose and her eyes. "Ack!" Blake clapped a hand over her nose and mouth and buckled over. "Gah. T-That smell! It smells like… like…"
"Ammonia," said Jaune, "Urine. They mark their territory. I'm told that to a wolf the smell is like reading an email – it contains all sorts of information. It's not at all unpleasant to them so acting like that might offend them."
"But it reeks!"
"They say the same about our car exhausts and aftershaves and perfumes. Breathe through your mouth."
The smell didn't abate as they moved further toward the camp, but her body began to adapt – namely by making her nostrils burn so bad that she functionally lost her sense of smell after a few minutes. There were clear markings of territory here and there, reminiscent of how the White Fang had done things. Claw marks on trees, broken branches pointing a certain way, and poop. Quite a lot of poop always kept off the path, but visible and smellable.
"They don't have toilets, do they?"
"Wolves, Blake. Wolves."
"The erotica never spoke of this…"
Not the mainstream stuff anyway; there was probably a subgenre of absolute sickos who enjoyed content involving bodily fluids. About the only "marking of territory" she was used to reading was bites during passionate trysts. And I need to burn all those books when I get back. Great. I was just in the middle of a series too.
Ahead, she could already hear the sounds of people – or, well, not people but wolf-people. It didn't sound unlike a normal camp, with chatter and laughter and the hustle-bustle of everyday life. At a distance she might have assumed it just a bunch of normal people, and she was sure many an unwary traveller had thought the same before stumbling upon them. If they'd somehow ignored the rank stench of bodily fluids, that was. Beside her, Jaune took a deep, fortifying breath and pushed on. It was that which clued her into what was about to come. That it would be very, very bad.
But even then she could not possibly have expected this.
The camp was not a clearing but more of an opening in the trees. There was even a full canopy above but for shafts of moonlight coming down. Inside, trees had been cleared away to create a large, circular area of patted-down soil and mud, upon which were dotted numerous animal-skin tents. In the centre was a pyre, but it was smaller than you'd have expected. A typical camp would have a massive fire for cooking or warmth. Maybe they just didn't need it with fur to better regulate temperature.
The exterior was marked by rickety wooden fencing that was little more than sticks and twigs bent and interlocked into a crude approximation of a fence, and an even cruder approximation of an archway made of tree boughs, sticks, and tied together with twine and tough weeds. It was all very au natural, except for one thing. A clearly processed and human-manufactured banner that was strung on normal rope between the two vertical poles of the archway. It was bright red, with bold white lettering spelling out a phrase.
"Welcome to Wolf-Con Vale" and beneath that, in smaller font, "Let your inner wolf run free."
Blake stopped and gripped Jaune's arm. "I want to go home."
"Me too, Blake." sighed Jaune, tugging her along. "Me too."
"Why? How? When? I thought you said they hated humans!"
"They do." He winced. "Mostly. Turns out there's only so many hundreds of years you can keep two societies segregated for. A little cultural bleed over was bound to happen eventually, especially with the internet and scrolls that can access it. Most of their kind frown on this; they'll even war with one another over it. It's practically forbidden. But… well…" He sighed again. "You know how it goes when you forbid something. It just makes them want it all the more."
"Yes but… but… but…" Blake turned to him and threw her hand out toward the sign. "This!?"
"Humanity opened the door. The wolves walked through it. We can try and close it, but they'll just find a window. Both sides, that is. The uh… The furries will sneak out to meet them, and the wolves will enable it. This…" He sighed, giving up on trying to explain it as a reasonable thing. "Look, it's just not something we can stop anymore. We've tried threats, we've tried bribery, we've even tried driving them away. There are too many and you'd be amazed – and horrified – at the lengths enthusiasts will go to if it means attending wolf-con. It's practically the event of the year in the community. At least in the adult side of the community. Thank goodness they share our values when it comes to children."
"But not killing them," groused Blake.
"I'll take what I can get."
"Jaune, what are we doing here? I assumed it was to drive them away or caution them but this… if this is happening, then what are we doing?"
"We, Blake…" He drew a deep breath. "We are event security."
Blake turned on her heel. "I'm going home."
"You can't." He caught her arm. "Look, Blake, I know this is ridiculous but shockingly awful or not, it is still a very dangerous thing. We're lucky that the people who will come here believe they're just men and women in hyper-realistic fursuits. If they find out the truth then boom – reality class anomaly. I said before we have to be prepared to make sacrifices. I meant it. We have to do this. We have to be here to take care of any problems and evict anyone who tries to cause them."
Blake waited for the punchline, she really did. Jaune would laugh and say it was a joke and they were running the werewolves out, or "wolf-con" would actually be short for "wolf conservation efforts" or something. A literal bipedal wolf in a string bikini posing with ridiculous muscles, abs and – to her horror – rather more than two sets of breasts, quickly dissuaded her of that notion. "W-Why can't we just kill them all?"
"Blake. Wasn't it you who said ARC Corp should avoid genocidal measures…?"
"I'd make an exception." He stared at her. Blake looked away. "Okay, I wouldn't, but why hasn't your father tried to kill them all!"
"He has. Many times. He's banned from the event after… well… he agreed to house one as security but used it as an excuse to gather everyone together in one spot so he could bomb the event." He winced as Blake's jaw dropped open. "Yeah, that was bad. The news ran with it as an extremist attack by an intolerant madman. ARC Corp as a whole wasn't allowed to attend the next five events, and the secret of anomalies almost got out each time. When we were finally allowed back, father had learned his lesson. Better to be here and allowed to control things then let them do as they want. Plus, his attempt to get rid of them all both: a) didn't work and b) caused so much publicity that celebrities and brands were rushing to defend the furry community and reach out to the victims, which could have gotten really bad really fast if they'd met an actual wolfman!"
"Ever since then we've decided to play along," he continued. "It's one event a year, two nights, and then they go back to their forests and keep themselves away from humans for the rest of the year. All things considered, the world would be in a much better place if more anomalies did this." He scratched his cheek. "But preferably without the copious amounts of bodily fluids, matted fur and howling." He winced. "It's the humans who do all the howling, too. It's kind of embarrassing…"
Blake crossed her arms. "I'm not wearing a fursuit."
"Oh, we won't have to. Security needs to be visibly distinguishable. Our uniforms are fine. I think we've been spotted." He sighed. "Let me do the talking but take notes. Their culture is… well… it's a thing. That's for sure."
A male werewolf – or wolf, she supposed would be the safest way to describe him – approached. His gait was human-like, but not human. Human-adjacent, maybe. A wolf's legs weren't bent the same way a human's were, and not really designed for walking on two legs like this one was. He was covered from paw to ears in a thick coat of grey and black fur, with a long snout, rows of teeth, an ear dotted with crude stone earrings, and a painfully tight pair of swimming bottoms that did perilously little to hide his…
His wolfhood…? Was that the term? Manhood didn't seem applicable. Blake didn't want to know, nor did she want to know where he'd bought branded swimming trunks from, or how he'd managed to fit himself inside. Despite being functionally naked, the coat of fur made him feel like he was clothed. It might honestly have been less disturbing if he'd just been fully naked. Jaune stood tall and approached the wolf, then paused a short distance away. The wolf did the same, sizing Jaune up.
Then it growled.
Blake tensed up.
But when Jaune growled back, she went slack. The two men snarled at one another like dogs, before pausing on some unspoken command and leaning in close – to kiss…? Blake watched, in horror, as Jaune licked the man's furry cheek, and as he licked Jaune's in return. Then they separated with a nod.
"Jaune Arc. ARC Corp. This is Blake Belladonna. We're here as security."
"I thought you were a little smooth-skinned to be a guest," said the wolfman. His voice was odd. Human, sort of, but a little scratchy and rumbly like his throat wasn't fully formed to speaking it. "I have no name, but my fursona is Paddleclaw the Magnificent."
Blake tried hard not to snort. Jaune kept a straight face. "Well met, Paddlefax. We need to speak with the… uh… organisers of Wolf-Con. Make sure we're all on the same page before the attendees arrive. I trust everyone here knows they're not to kill and eat any of the guests."
"They know. It has been made clear any that do shall be banished from the pack."
Would that be enough? Blake couldn't say she knew much about their culture (and given what she'd seen, she didn't want to) but emotions could ride high in… the… uh… moment. She worried that someone might bite down a little too hard, though she supposed a well-made suit from the guests would go a long way to blunting the damage. And Blake grimaced again, realising she was now visualising how a wolf-person and a normal human in a suit might… mate…
Definitely burning all those books.
"Wolf-Con begins tomorrow," explained the wolf. "The first buses will arrive when the sun reaches its highest. There will be party, and mingling, and lots and lots of rutting." The wolf laughed at that, ignoring the way both Jaune and Blake cringed. "Worry not, our costumes will stay on the whole time. Our brothers and sisters in our packs would chase us out if we exposed ourselves. We're already dishonouring them enough." The wolf chuffed out a laugh, as if poking fun at such stuffy wolves. "But you're not here to rut. Unless…?"
"No," said Blake.
"We're not," agreed Jaune. "So, can we go on and meet the one elected as chief for this year's Wolf-Con?"
Paddlefax grunted. "This year's event is run by Steamysack the Insatiable."
"Steamy… sack… I see…"
They didn't understand the imagery of their words. That was the only conclusion she could come to. They were hiding as part of the furry community, but they obviously weren't that. These were their natural bodies and they were closer to wolves than humans. The names were likely just words picked off the internet or given to them on forums.
"This will be my first Wolf-Con," said the wolfman as he led them deeper into the camp. "I felt the call of the musk when I saw pictures shown to me by a close packmate. Before, I had considered it vile and weak, but to see their moments stirred something within me that I knew could not be stopped. This I became Paddlefax, first of a new line."
"That's great…" said Jaune, laughing awkwardly.
Blake tried to focus on the ground but it was hard not to look around. Wolfmen and women flexed muscles and posed enticingly, testing one another and in some cases wrestling on the ground, licking or even sniffing bottoms. It was ridiculously lewd, but she reminded herself that was by human sensibilities. This was perfectly normal behaviour for wolves in the wild, and not at all perverted. And then she remembered what was going to happen tomorrow and that all went out the window because no amount of wildlife behavioural patterns was enough to explain that. On the other hand, it could easily be explained via human culture.
Fetishes happened. There was no avoiding it. And this community was probably one of the least dangerous among the various sick and twisted stuff you could find online. They normally wouldn't have even crossed Blake's mind, and she was fine to let those people do what (and who) they liked so long as it was legal. Out of all the many sordid kinds of people who gathered online, they were some of the least hateful, the least prejudiced and the least bothersome.
But never in her life had she expected she might have to chaperone such an event, or that it would be while she was employed by a secretive quasi-government agency designed to keep the existence of the paranormal a secret. Was it immoral for them to conceal the fact that they were actually meeting and having sex with anomalous humanoid-wolves instead of fellow fur-enjoyers in a suit? Would they even care if the truth was revealed, or would that only make some of them even hornier? Blake didn't know - and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
Just as she was sure she was about to find out.
"I'm not paid enough for this…"
"Blake, you're one of the best-paid people in the world."
"I stand by my statement."
What, you expect that all sapient anomalies will be content to exist on their own and not dally with humans? I mean, 99% might, but there'll always be the 1% of every population of any creature that has tastes which run a little… spicier…
Next Chapter: 12th June
Like my work? Please consider supporting me, even if it's only a little a month or even for a whole year, so I can keep writing so many stories as often as I do. Even a little means a lot and helps me dedicate more time and resources to my work.
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
