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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack The first year is available as a compilation in print and on Amazon Kindle: https://a.co/d/gBLLL7E The first year is currently available on audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0G3SMJGFN/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-482... My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| It's been one hell of a week. Boss said stay away from Garrett and his wannabe crime family, so that's what I did. Or at least tried to. I didn't follow him anywhere after that fiasco at the office, didn't bother trying to talk to him when I got out of my own ass chewing. Crash just grumbled "figures," when I came home that night and told him what happened. Then he asked if I filled out those reports like he asked. Which, of course I had. I filled them out with his NCIS forms, "National Claw InciSors" form to be precise. He got a smile out of that one. During my typical running around that week, I'd seen a lot of their family. Marissa standing at the pharmacy when I arrived, looking as if she'd ran down there to beat me into it. She had her cell phone out and ready when I'd arrived, recording me. I had to leave and wait an hour before she finally left. Tarissa pulling into the gas pump and pumping gas directly behind me, cell phone in hand, presumably recording. She flipped her hair back, and batted her attractive eyes. "I always did like a man in uniform. They give you one of those cute sheriff things or a pretty blue cop one?" I turned and snarled, biting my lip and squeezing my hand hard enough to leave impressions of my fingernails in my palm pads. She giggled at me from behind her cellphone. "Oh come on! It's rude to not answer someone when they're talking to you!" Part of me wanted to spin around and snarl back, "It's even more rude to kill a couple and con a community with a fake land scam!" Of course, I didn't. If it was just my own freedom at stake, I would have done it in a heartbeat. However, Crash, and the gang don't deserve to suffer for my own mouth, as dumb as the circumstances may be. So, I did the only thing I could legally do - I left. Most of the week was like this. As inconspicuous as I was trying to be with it, it seemed they weren't. They were enjoying making me squirm, and enjoying more making sure other people watched me squirm and avoid eye contact, cell phone always recording me like I was a cheating ex being called out. And like a cheating ex, they relished in every public humiliation I was forced to suffer. These days, a good portion of folk will just stand back, pull the cell phones out and record for their social media, snickering the entire time. You still have some decent hearted beings out there who will turn their heads and do their best to not get involved, muttering sayings about circus and monkeys. But every once in a while, though, you'll get that one individual who will have to interfere. The kind of person who will be willing to stand up for you no matter what. The type of person who you wish, for the love of God, would just shut up. They pushed and pushed and talked and talked, not exactly following me, but still popping up in enough places around our little town that it felt like I was being constantly watched. The pressure got to the point that sobriety for me was about to take a few days sabbatical until the entire thing blew over. Outside of the liquor store, Marissa (or is it Tarissa? I can never get those two straight) showed up. All I wanted was a bottle cheap liquor. Marissa, Tarissa, Clarissa explains it all, whatever her damn name was stopped me in front of the door and wanted to talk. "Aww, poor little cripple needs a drink? I can help ya get one, honey?" If I'd heard him pull up, I would have said something, honest I would have. But I gritted my teeth so hard they hurt. I took two steps back towards my car seeing red, about to explode, when someone did for me. And about the worst person in that situation who could have. "I know not why you make trouble for friend! But you make trouble for him, you make trouble with me!" Charles' voice was distinct. And he was already losing his grammar, which meant Charles was beginning a slow shift. He was going to smash, rip, rend and tear anyone in his way. Marissa, the door, the liquor store, the attendant behind the counter, the bird in the tree behind the store. It didn't matter. Of course, Marissa/Tarissa whoever she was, didn't care. She had started turning green herself, and was preparing to go all rougarou on me and Charles. "You best get your Hulderfolk pet on a leash, human," she snarled. I tried to grab Charles arm and pull him back. "Come on, big guy. It's not worth it," I tried. "She insult you! She insult me! She is bad person! Bad person DIE!" And there it was. The push she had been spoiling for. Her cell phone was out and before I could shout 'Shut up, dummy,' she was recording again. "What's that?! You're going to hurt me?" Charles took the obvious bait and ran with it, snapping the metaphorical line. "I'll more than hurt! I'll chew your bones and feast on entrails!" I could see what she was doing. It was very careful: poking, prodding. Pushing just enough to rile him up, but without making a clear threat of her own. Everything was said in the form of a question, and when the police arrived, which didn't take long, everything was presented. "More threats, officer. Me and my family can't get a moment's peace," was the official line. "We were just going to the grocery store and there he was!" A few taps and she pulled out a video of me at the grocery store. She swiped to another video. "Here we are just trying to get gas and he had to jump in ahead of us!" She swipped angrily to two more videos and snarled at the cop, "It's like he's stalking us, I swear!" When he looked at me, she gave me the briefest of glances. There was a look of triumph in that glance. The way the videos appeared was the moment the camera came out, I turned my head, blushed in embarrassment like I'd just been caught, and tried to get out of the way. Hell, even I thought I looked guilty in how those videos were edited. So, I didn't blame the local officer when he started asking pointed questions. Not that Charles helped much in that regard either. The cop was in his mid thirties, looked to still be doing patrol, which to me meant that he was likely already over this entire endeavor. His thinning hair almost pulled forward in the scowl the man was giving me. "Would you care to explain what happened?" I believe it was the cops tone. But, hulderfolk are notoriously unpredictable, especially when angered. So, likely it could have been anything. "Don't you dare question friend!" It went down hill from there. Charles snarling obscenities, and becoming more and more troll by the second, the officer snarling for Charles to stop, Marissa - or whatever twin she claimed to be, was crying about how scared she was, playing it up real big for a cop who seemed to be getting real sick of all of it. And me without any means of fighting back. Crash had to come out and interrupt things before they got worse. He barely got Charles restrained and calmed down enough to get him home. Marissa or whatever wonder twin she was, was practically dancing when that happened. Then the other shoe dropped. "We can't take this anymore, officer! I'd like to press charges," the toxic twin shouted, her voice holding a note of triumph as the officer rounded on me with a frustrated, weary look. "Sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in for further questioning." "But!" "We'll be impounding your vehicle as well sir." It's not like I hadn't been expecting as much. I believe I took it about as respectful and kind as I could. My official statement has me saying "What the actual ever loving fuck!" But I still say I said "whatever". Either or, things only got more fun for Marissa explains it all, recording the entire endeavor. Being tased hurts. Especially when it's done twice. There's no shame in admitting I was whimpering at the end of that. It felt like...no, I won't go into it. If anyone is curious enough, they go find a cop and get the experience first hand. Me? I don't want to relive that experience through explanation. Needless to say, I did end up on the asphalt of the parking lot, jerking and kicking. Of course none of these are memories I have. I remember the pain of it, then being on the ground. The videos I saw online though caught the whole incident in 4k. Someone caught it in 8k. At least my humiliation warranted the good resolution this time. On the way to the station, the cop gave me a look. I couldn't determine if it was pity, or just exhaustion. Either way, I didn't blame him. There was no telling what was going to happen when we got to the police station. But one thing was certain, it wasn't going to get any better for me that day. |
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