| Supernatural Fiction posted September 1, 2020 | Chapters: |
...26 27 -28- 29... 
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A Chapter of THE IMMORTAL/A Novel of the Breedine series
A chapter in the book THE CURSE
The Man-Wolf
by scongrove
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
| Background Thanks for taking the time to read my chapter. For those who haven't read The Immortal, I thought you might enjoy this scary, tense chapter. Stay safe! |
Tara looked over at the speedometer and then cast Brandon a sidelong glance.
“Brandon...” she grumbled.
“What?”
“Slow down. The roads are wet. You’re going to get us killed.”
“Take it easy, Tara.” He chuckled. “It’s just misting. I’m not going to wreck.”
“No, I mean it, Brandon. Please.”
He slid his hand across the seat to reach for her. “Come here, honey.”
She sighed and scooted away from him. “Damn it, Brandon.”
“What?” he echoed.
“Will you please keep both hands on the wheel?”
She saw a half-smile form at the corner of his mouth.
Tara stuffed her hands into the pockets of her fleece jacket and fixed him with a worried frown. “I’m serious,” she said. “It’s not funny.”
“Okay, okay,” Brandon said, easing his foot off the accelerator.
She looked up at him and let out a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
He quickly looked away from the dashboard, winked an eye at her and said, “Sure thing, princess.”
Tara groaned. “I hate that.”
“Hate what?”
“When you call me princess,” she said, her voice laced with irritation. “It’s like you’re categorizing me as a drama queen.”
He cocked a brow. “Well, you’ve got your moments.”
“Whatever...”
Brandon smirked. “Why don’t you lay your head back and get some rest. You’ve got to be exhausted after pulling a double shift at the hospital.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” she said around a yawn. “Besides, we’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, anything exciting happen at work?”
“Nope,” she shot back. “Unless you consider giving sponge baths and changing bedpans exciting.”
He grimaced. “Sorry, honey.”
“Hey, it’s just part of the job.”
He briefly took his eyes off the road and looked in her direction. “You have a big heart, Tara. I’ve never met anyone that cares for people the way you do.”
She smiled. “Thanks, babe.”
Her smile touched a private spot in his heart. With a nod, he turned away and focused his eyes back on the road. Silently, he wondered if he’d made a big mistake; the kind that could change a course in their relationship. After all, they had been living together for almost two years. Sure, they had their share of problems, but maybe this year he would find the courage to ask Tara to marry him. Maybe...
As they sailed along the highway, Tara leaned against her door and stared out the window of the pickup. The moon among the tops of the trees seemed to be watching her through the clouds, and the red color was both eerie and hypnotizing at the same time. Tara shivered and burrowed deeper into her jacket. Why did full moons make her think of creepy things like... ghosts, vampires, and werewolves?
“Hey, are you falling asleep?”
Tara turned to Brandon and muttered, “No, I’m not falling asleep.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to her window.
A few minutes later, she closed her eyes. The hum of the motor mixed with the sound of the windshield wipers and the rocking motion of the truck made her drift off. Tara was in a pleasant state between sleep and awareness, where everything seemed warm and safe. She forced her eyes open and gazed out into the darkness, out at the bloody moon. Then something fast-moving caught her eye. She focused on the side of the road. Something big was traveling swiftly through the tall, thick weeds, keeping pace with Brandon’s truck, but it was so foggy she could barely see a thing.
Tara looked over at the speedometer. They were going... sixty.
Her hands were gripping the edge of the seat, and there was a growing tightness in her chest.
Oh God...
“What the—” she gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Brandon mumbled.
Tara opened her mouth and tried to warn him, but never got the chance.
As a dark shape, the size of an enormous animal came out of the fog, Brandon hit the brakes and Tara screamed. The tires screeched and the truck skidded across the wet, black asphalt and began to spin. Whirling around in circles, Tara could see the monstrous, dark silhouette standing on all fours, statue-like in the middle of the road watching them with yellow, glowing eyes. Waiting...
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. As Brandon desperately tried to reach for Tara, his head slammed into the window, and the truck careened off the road, landing in a deep, muddy ditch. The impact nearly jarred Tara’s teeth loose. She screamed in protest when her body whipped against the seatbelt. All Tara could think in those last few seconds before she went unconscious was... we’re going to die.
He crouched on the road and waited. The image of the two humans, who appeared wounded, fueled its rage and gave the creature direction. The rage blended with hunger and consumed his mind in flames. Quickly, his crouching form slipped into the grassy, open field and moved in behind some bushes to watch his prey more closely. This is better, he thought, better for surprises, better for an attack.
Brandon and Tara did not see or hear the creature as it crept out of its hiding place on all fours like a tiger on the hunt, stalking its prey. After his visit at Jena’s room, he’d spotted the young couple leaving the hospital and followed their vehicle.
He circled around and around the pickup with the moon shining above him, deciding which one he was going to take first. He finally stopped outside the driver’s side and peered into the window. Inside, the couple lay unconscious and unaware of his presence. Preparing to strike, he paused, taking notice of his own reflection in the window staring back at him. Dark hair covered his face, and his amber eyes steamed with hatred. The humans were oblivious to his long, black claws that reached for the door handle.
As Brandon opened his eyes, they rounded in sheer terror. The creature’s mouth opened into a white grin of sharp teeth, and a low grumble that sounded almost like cackling issued from its hideous mouth. It looked like a wolf with distinctive human features, but it was as big as a horse. Its lupine ears came to a point atop its huge head and its pupils appeared split like a cat’s.
The predator and the prey stayed there staring at one another as though time had suspended. Savoring the moment, the man-wolf could already feel its fangs gorging on the warm flesh of the man’s jugular. As it tore the door completely from its hinges, Tara suddenly roused by the distinctive sounds of creaking metal and Brandon’s voice.
“Oh, God, Tara—run!”
He screamed in a voice she couldn’t believe was his. It grew into a long spiraling cry of agony as if being ripped apart. In the end, there was only a garbled wail streaming from his throat, joined by a terrifying howl of rage, followed by dead silence.
With a ragged cry, Tara tried to lift her head, praying Brandon was still alive. In desperation, she searched the driver’s side for him but found it abandoned. Blood took his place, coating everything. The seat... the steering wheel... the dashboard...
“Brandon,” she said hoarsely. “Brandon!”
As though she was in a dream, her sight blurry and mind disoriented, she saw something dark and sinister dragging Brandon across the grassy pasture as if he was nothing but a lifeless, flimsy doll. Then the sickening sounds of flesh and muscle tearing from bone echoed across the open grassland to Tara.
She moaned, swallowing back the pain. “H-help,” she breathlessly pleaded. “Someone please, help us.”
Lying there on her back, all alone in the dark cab of the truck, her head throbbed, and she struggled to comprehend what she had seen. Her brain felt short-circuited. All Tara could sense was the cold, wet mask of her face, and she wasn’t sure if it was tears or blood.
Finally, after several attempts, she managed to unfasten her seatbelt and reach for the steering wheel. She winced at the searing pain coming from her torso as she pulled herself up. It hurt just to draw even the shallowest of breaths. Just as Tara looked to where the door had once been, she saw Brandon’s murderer in the distance rise on its hind legs. It glared in her direction as if she was its next victim.
Oh, please... God...
When it set off after her, she grabbed the passenger’s door handle and pushed it open with the strength and ability brought forth by pure adrenaline. It drove her willpower to keep moving. A sense of calm descended, washing away the paralyzing fear. Before, she had Brandon to protect her. Now it was up to her to save herself.
No one can save you now but you, she tried to convince herself.
Tara fell to her hands and knees on the wet, mucky ground. On all fours, she forced her injured body onward and crawled until her bare hands felt the rough exterior of the road. Despite the pain and the loss of blood from a cut on her forehead, she managed to get to her feet. She was shaking so she could barely trust her legs to support her weight. All the while, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, she kept waiting for the feel of the beast’s sharp claws, knowing it was getting close.
Without warning, a horn blared behind her. Tara flinched and whirled around as a black Hummer screeched to a stop only three feet away. She put her hand above her eyes to block its bright headlights, noticing another SUV as it pulled up alongside it. Then one of the windows slid down.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” said a man. His voice was a deep baritone.
To be continued . . .
“Brandon...” she grumbled.
“What?”
“Slow down. The roads are wet. You’re going to get us killed.”
“Take it easy, Tara.” He chuckled. “It’s just misting. I’m not going to wreck.”
“No, I mean it, Brandon. Please.”
He slid his hand across the seat to reach for her. “Come here, honey.”
She sighed and scooted away from him. “Damn it, Brandon.”
“What?” he echoed.
“Will you please keep both hands on the wheel?”
She saw a half-smile form at the corner of his mouth.
Tara stuffed her hands into the pockets of her fleece jacket and fixed him with a worried frown. “I’m serious,” she said. “It’s not funny.”
“Okay, okay,” Brandon said, easing his foot off the accelerator.
She looked up at him and let out a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
He quickly looked away from the dashboard, winked an eye at her and said, “Sure thing, princess.”
Tara groaned. “I hate that.”
“Hate what?”
“When you call me princess,” she said, her voice laced with irritation. “It’s like you’re categorizing me as a drama queen.”
He cocked a brow. “Well, you’ve got your moments.”
“Whatever...”
Brandon smirked. “Why don’t you lay your head back and get some rest. You’ve got to be exhausted after pulling a double shift at the hospital.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” she said around a yawn. “Besides, we’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, anything exciting happen at work?”
“Nope,” she shot back. “Unless you consider giving sponge baths and changing bedpans exciting.”
He grimaced. “Sorry, honey.”
“Hey, it’s just part of the job.”
He briefly took his eyes off the road and looked in her direction. “You have a big heart, Tara. I’ve never met anyone that cares for people the way you do.”
She smiled. “Thanks, babe.”
Her smile touched a private spot in his heart. With a nod, he turned away and focused his eyes back on the road. Silently, he wondered if he’d made a big mistake; the kind that could change a course in their relationship. After all, they had been living together for almost two years. Sure, they had their share of problems, but maybe this year he would find the courage to ask Tara to marry him. Maybe...
As they sailed along the highway, Tara leaned against her door and stared out the window of the pickup. The moon among the tops of the trees seemed to be watching her through the clouds, and the red color was both eerie and hypnotizing at the same time. Tara shivered and burrowed deeper into her jacket. Why did full moons make her think of creepy things like... ghosts, vampires, and werewolves?
“Hey, are you falling asleep?”
Tara turned to Brandon and muttered, “No, I’m not falling asleep.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to her window.
A few minutes later, she closed her eyes. The hum of the motor mixed with the sound of the windshield wipers and the rocking motion of the truck made her drift off. Tara was in a pleasant state between sleep and awareness, where everything seemed warm and safe. She forced her eyes open and gazed out into the darkness, out at the bloody moon. Then something fast-moving caught her eye. She focused on the side of the road. Something big was traveling swiftly through the tall, thick weeds, keeping pace with Brandon’s truck, but it was so foggy she could barely see a thing.
Tara looked over at the speedometer. They were going... sixty.
Her hands were gripping the edge of the seat, and there was a growing tightness in her chest.
Oh God...
“What the—” she gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Brandon mumbled.
Tara opened her mouth and tried to warn him, but never got the chance.
As a dark shape, the size of an enormous animal came out of the fog, Brandon hit the brakes and Tara screamed. The tires screeched and the truck skidded across the wet, black asphalt and began to spin. Whirling around in circles, Tara could see the monstrous, dark silhouette standing on all fours, statue-like in the middle of the road watching them with yellow, glowing eyes. Waiting...
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. As Brandon desperately tried to reach for Tara, his head slammed into the window, and the truck careened off the road, landing in a deep, muddy ditch. The impact nearly jarred Tara’s teeth loose. She screamed in protest when her body whipped against the seatbelt. All Tara could think in those last few seconds before she went unconscious was... we’re going to die.
He crouched on the road and waited. The image of the two humans, who appeared wounded, fueled its rage and gave the creature direction. The rage blended with hunger and consumed his mind in flames. Quickly, his crouching form slipped into the grassy, open field and moved in behind some bushes to watch his prey more closely. This is better, he thought, better for surprises, better for an attack.
Brandon and Tara did not see or hear the creature as it crept out of its hiding place on all fours like a tiger on the hunt, stalking its prey. After his visit at Jena’s room, he’d spotted the young couple leaving the hospital and followed their vehicle.
He circled around and around the pickup with the moon shining above him, deciding which one he was going to take first. He finally stopped outside the driver’s side and peered into the window. Inside, the couple lay unconscious and unaware of his presence. Preparing to strike, he paused, taking notice of his own reflection in the window staring back at him. Dark hair covered his face, and his amber eyes steamed with hatred. The humans were oblivious to his long, black claws that reached for the door handle.
As Brandon opened his eyes, they rounded in sheer terror. The creature’s mouth opened into a white grin of sharp teeth, and a low grumble that sounded almost like cackling issued from its hideous mouth. It looked like a wolf with distinctive human features, but it was as big as a horse. Its lupine ears came to a point atop its huge head and its pupils appeared split like a cat’s.
The predator and the prey stayed there staring at one another as though time had suspended. Savoring the moment, the man-wolf could already feel its fangs gorging on the warm flesh of the man’s jugular. As it tore the door completely from its hinges, Tara suddenly roused by the distinctive sounds of creaking metal and Brandon’s voice.
“Oh, God, Tara—run!”
He screamed in a voice she couldn’t believe was his. It grew into a long spiraling cry of agony as if being ripped apart. In the end, there was only a garbled wail streaming from his throat, joined by a terrifying howl of rage, followed by dead silence.
With a ragged cry, Tara tried to lift her head, praying Brandon was still alive. In desperation, she searched the driver’s side for him but found it abandoned. Blood took his place, coating everything. The seat... the steering wheel... the dashboard...
“Brandon,” she said hoarsely. “Brandon!”
As though she was in a dream, her sight blurry and mind disoriented, she saw something dark and sinister dragging Brandon across the grassy pasture as if he was nothing but a lifeless, flimsy doll. Then the sickening sounds of flesh and muscle tearing from bone echoed across the open grassland to Tara.
She moaned, swallowing back the pain. “H-help,” she breathlessly pleaded. “Someone please, help us.”
Lying there on her back, all alone in the dark cab of the truck, her head throbbed, and she struggled to comprehend what she had seen. Her brain felt short-circuited. All Tara could sense was the cold, wet mask of her face, and she wasn’t sure if it was tears or blood.
Finally, after several attempts, she managed to unfasten her seatbelt and reach for the steering wheel. She winced at the searing pain coming from her torso as she pulled herself up. It hurt just to draw even the shallowest of breaths. Just as Tara looked to where the door had once been, she saw Brandon’s murderer in the distance rise on its hind legs. It glared in her direction as if she was its next victim.
Oh, please... God...
When it set off after her, she grabbed the passenger’s door handle and pushed it open with the strength and ability brought forth by pure adrenaline. It drove her willpower to keep moving. A sense of calm descended, washing away the paralyzing fear. Before, she had Brandon to protect her. Now it was up to her to save herself.
No one can save you now but you, she tried to convince herself.
Tara fell to her hands and knees on the wet, mucky ground. On all fours, she forced her injured body onward and crawled until her bare hands felt the rough exterior of the road. Despite the pain and the loss of blood from a cut on her forehead, she managed to get to her feet. She was shaking so she could barely trust her legs to support her weight. All the while, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, she kept waiting for the feel of the beast’s sharp claws, knowing it was getting close.
Without warning, a horn blared behind her. Tara flinched and whirled around as a black Hummer screeched to a stop only three feet away. She put her hand above her eyes to block its bright headlights, noticing another SUV as it pulled up alongside it. Then one of the windows slid down.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” said a man. His voice was a deep baritone.
To be continued . . .
Artwork by Joe Roberts
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