ALTERED STATES: By Barry J. Northern
Tuesday, April 27th, 2010LYCANTHROPY CONTEST
“Come on, Steve, trust me, I cut across this moorland all the time last year. It’s a quicker way to the campsite.”
Steve eyed his older brother. The light of the full moon was bright enough to see how dilated his pupils were. “How many did you take, Gray?”
“Look, I can handle it, okay? Are you gonna try finding your own way back or are you gonna follow me?”
“All right.” The moorland was painted in greys with an occasional splash of muted colour. It rolled like a gentle sea, its overall flat vastness concealed by local peaks and troughs.
Gray sniffed. “I saw something weird out here last year.”
“A hallucination?”
“It’s not that kind of drug.”
“Whatever, you’re not thinking straight, let’s just get back.”
“No, I want you to see it too.”
“What? You said this was a short cut.”
“It’s all right, it’s on the way.”
Steve was worried about his brother. Gray might think he could handle it, but Steve knew his brother wasn’t the same person he’d grown up with, the person he loved. “Let’s just get back.”
“It was a werewolf.”
“What?”
“It bit me, see.” Gray pulled up his sleeve. “Right across here.” He ran a finger across his forearm in an S from the pulse at his wrist to his outer elbow.
“I can’t see anything, Graham.”
“Too dark. If you had my eyes you’d see it. It bit me, Steve, and I got its power. I want it to bite you too. It’s more of a gift than a curse.”
Steve wanted this to be a joke, but he knew that his addled brother was deadly serious. “Okay, Gray. I’m following you.” He’d have to look after him, get him back safe.
Gray’s severe smile looked maniacal in the monochrome light. “This is gonna be fun!” He turned and ran.
Steve stumbled over a patch of heather or gorse or something, he couldn’t tell. He shouted after Gray but lost sight of him over a ridge. He got to his feet and pelted towards the ridge but he’d lost him. Steve heard Gray wolf-howl, trying to scare him. It nearly worked.
As Steve ran, the moor opened out, sloping down toward a dark line of hedgerow. He caught sight of a figure running towards the darkness. Something passed across the moon, a flutter of wings overhead, a sudden gust of wind. Steve shivered and ran to the hedge. Beyond it he could see the first few scattered lights at the campsite’s edge.
As Steve tried to squeeze himself through he heard a commotion on the other side, like a fight conducted in silence. Scratched and twisted, he emerged but his ankle was caught up in something, he reached down to pull it off but recoiled as thorns stung his palm. He tried to wriggle free but the bramble cinched tighter around his jeans. Meanwhile he could still hear muffled shuffling noises, a grunt, a stifled moan.
Steve reached into his coat’s hidden pocket, concealed behind a waterproof flap that protected the main zipper, glad the nightclub bouncers had patted him down only after he’d put his coat into the cloakroom on the way in. He knew he shouldn’t carry it, but he’d been a boy scout for years and couldn’t imagine going camping without it. If only he’d known what his big brother actually got up to on these camping trips. Steve was glad he’d brought it though, and that he’d kept it sharp within its protective sheathe. He was free within moments.
A girl’s anguished scream split the night. Steve ran towards it, knife in hand. A second scream began but was stifled. Another grunt, more violent shuffling. Steve could see shadows now, something bad was happening inside a lonesome tent. A dim light within cast shadows on its surface, giving an indistinct impression of two forms struggling within. Steve rounded the tent and tripped over the lamp that had been creating the shadow-play. Darkness fell and the noises stopped. He couldn’t make sense of what he’d seen in that illuminated instant. He froze, unsure, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight.
A shadowy form resolved into the back of some kind of beast. Gray’s talk of werewolves precluded rational thought. The fur on its back was more like a sheep’s fleece than wolf’s pelt, and its legs were bare and human-like, as if the creature had only half transformed. At first Steve was confused by an extra pair of legs, but as his mind caught up with his eyes he realised the creature was bearing down upon the girl, her skirt pulled up around her hips. The beast shifted and Steve saw its foul paw clamped over her mouth, muffling her screams, but her eyes still screamed, and now those eyes saw him standing there and shattered his unbelieving numbness.
He reached down to grab the creature by the shoulders, his only thought to save the poor girl from further harm. The thing turned and launched towards him but tripped and pitched forwards onto Steve’s outstretched knife. The girl screamed and screamed. She’d found a flashlight and was waving it about like a disco light, illuminating the scene in snatches.
Blood bubbled from Gray’s mouth and oozed through his fingers as he clutched at his gut where a dark flower bloomed through his fleece. It trickled down his bare legs, into his tangle of trousers, which were bunched around his ankles. “Seen her about. Knew her tent was out here.” He looked confused. “What are you doing here, Steve?”
He looked down at his hands. “Am I bleeding?” He slumped to the floor. Steve dropped the knife, and the flashlight went out. The girl had stopped screaming and now keened like a frightened child. Steve dropped to his knees and moaned in denial as Gray’s last breath escaped into the night. He vowed he would never succumb to that which had transformed his brother.
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©2010 Barry J. Northern
Barry writes, podcasts, blogs about being a writer in the 21st century, and he can’t write amusing bios when it’s nearly midnight. Read better words at barryjnorthern.blogspot.com.
