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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 |
| A hospital stay after being adopted by a werewolf was quite different from the previous two I've had. Hospital functions went on as normal, but this time I could tell which nurses were vampires and which ones were humans. The doctor I saw was more obvious than the nurses about his vampiric nature. There was a look in their eye. A glint that didn't look quite human. Canines that stood a head taller than the rest of the teeth. I'll give them this, though. They were a lot nicer to deal with than a vampire meth head bent on a strange version of global domination. After I'd woken up, I insisted they call Vic, Crash's doctor. There was some initial 'We wills' and 'I'm certain we can help yous'. After I refused to let any of them touch me less they drew back a nub, they finally caved. Everyone gave me professional courtesy, but there was a sideways glance they gave me when they weren't addressing me directly that said I'd already annoyed and pissed everyone off on the floor. I hadn't been awake a whole day yet, either. That's gotta be some sort of record for me. Much of the morning and part of the afternoon was spent with day time cable television. I wish they'd at least get a smart TV. At least I could have caught up on Succession or something. Cable Television is a river of stale ideas and reruns. Talk shows that make you wish for a good podcast, news programs that felt more like propaganda than real news, and of course, rehashed TV shows that were little more than old programs with fresh faces. The new Matlock, the new Magnum P.I. I keep waiting for them to reboot the A-Team and All In The Family. (If they have, don't tell me! Let me be blissfully ignorant for once!) It got very tiresome staring at the same four walls. to pass the hours, I attempted conversation with the nurses. Who were all to the one at least annoyed at me, and more than a couple looked as if they were plotting revenge. In other words, my attempts at conversation went about as well as you'd expect. Eventually I got a little chatter out of the two nurses taking care of me. But, I got the impression they didn't want to be included in the blog. Heh, too late. Since they don't want to be included, I'm going to just call one Nurse Frankenstein, and another Nurse Deetz. After Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice. There was a strong resemblance with nurse Deetz, despite being a different race from Winona Ryder. Nurse Frankenstein held a resemblance in her bedside manner. Some people just can't take a joke. Or maybe it was the nicknames themselves that was the reason their needle jabs were extra hard after. I swear a couple struck bone. It was well past noon when Vic came in. I was so bored that I was actually watching "The View". Vic took a glance at the television, then snatched the remote and turned it off. "You know, that may be a sign of brain damage," he grumbled, then leaned forward, giving me a cursory exam. After poking a couple things, taking a temperature, then checking on the IV and machines he grumbled. "You're fine, you should be out of here by morning." Then, he turned to leave. I grabbed his sleeve to stop him. "That's not why I asked you here." He rubbed his eyes, exasperated. "I was afraid of that." He turned to look at me. "I'm not a psychic. This isn't a show. There isn't any crystal balls for me to stare into. I can't help you change the..." "It's not that," I said. "I need help remembering." He shrugged. "I can't do that either. If your mind doesn't have it, then it doesn't have it." I tapped my skull. "It's up there. I swear. I just need to piece a couple things together." Vic closed the door a little harder then necessary. I guess it was some sort of signal cause both Nurse Frankenstein and Nurse Deetz left us alone after that. Turning to me, he said, "You're requesting me to access parts of your brain that may be damaged. Your brain is a wonderful and complex organ that can adapt on its own given enough time. Those memories could come back." "I know that." I'd had enough Traumatic Brain Injury classes in military service to know what to expect. Mood swings, dizziness, fatigue, headaches, changes in sleep habits. The full works. "It's like a clue is buried somewhere inside of me. The key to solving the entire mess, however minor it may be. This key is in my memory somewhere and people are dying because I can't get it out. I know it." I clenched a fist as hard as I could. Machines started running faster. Beeping somewhere began to speed up. Through clenched teeth I said, "other people shouldn't die because of me. Innocent people. It's not right." Vic touched my ankle. I looked up at him, and he nodded. "I understand," he said. "But you must understand this. It isn't going to be easy on you. This could put you in a coma for a while." I smiled. "What, save the world and give my friends five seconds of peace? That's two good deeds in a single day! I'm caught up for the whole year after that." Of course he saw through my bravado. But he was gracious enough not to comment on it. He leaned forward and began to stare into my eyes. "You just relax. Find your revelation. I will read it from your mind and tell Crash." I was about to say thank you, but I was already locked into his eyes. They seemed to grow larger and larger. In the distance, I could hear his voice echo around me as he said "you're welcome." Then the room was gone. And I was standing in the office again. I had just called everyone over. Every coworker was in front of me. The ones who had inadvertently shielded me with their bodies and saved my life. It was a snapshot frozen in time. The single image from before bomb. I swallowed hard, and turned and looked at the cork board. The map of the county. The attacks. The singular spot. And then it clicked. Oh boy, did it click. It was as if every battle on that map had purposely led everyone away from that one spot. We were meant to think they were leading us to an ambush in another area. The memory of every yellow thumbtack circling the downtown of my hometown was a nice touch. But, it was futile. For they were purposely avoiding one large area. With one very suspicious town in the middle of it. The office faded away as if it was an image projected on smoke. But, I didn't need it anymore. Buried within my memory was a singular town name. A town that was basically a ghost town. Some company had bought it up a few years back with the claim of turning it into a factory site. There had been some speculation at the time on what the factory could be: automobiles, military parts and equipment, sex toys even. Nobody knew what a facility built over a town that held eighty people at it's height would become. The town's name, which I'll call Villaville here for the purpose of this blog, was in my memory. But, now, I was trapped somewhere outside of that memory. I was so far deep into my mind that the real world was only muffled sounds. Snarls. Growls. Gunfire. A battle was going on out there. Vic must have been distracted. And I was so far down. Could he have read the town name from my mind? Did he see it? I had to make sure. It was like swimming through syrup. The more I tried to climb to the top of it, swim to the surface of reality, the harder that swimming became. Light was breaking through. I couldn't see whole images yet. But I could see light! Another muffled voice. Vic's. "...you'll be safe. Hang on..." I swam up further. Light was getting stronger. Shapes began to form. I could barely see ceiling lights passing over head. The outline of Vic's body pushing the hospital bed. He was moving me. I started shouting the name. Well, I felt as if I was shouting the name, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. Just muffled mumbles. But, Vic could read minds. I prayed that he wasn't too distracted to read mine. I shouted the towns name, over and over again within my collapsed world. "Tell Crash Villaville! They're centered in Villaville!" It was the only place that made sense. Purchase a town with legitimate humans that "worked" with them (ones they probably controlled) and have them set up a shadow organization. Construction takes years, and they could easily have construction sites "fall through" on finances and just own the property if they wished. All the while, they build whatever they like, hide it behind dead buildings and bankruptcies. They had hidden in plain sight and bureaucracy while planning the entire thing. Such is the way of The Nobility. Such is the way they conquer. Outside, I heard furniture being literally thrown around. The snarls of a fight. I kept swimming, upward, fighting to get the word out. Fighting to tell Vic. There was a moment of connection, then...nothing. Vic was gone. Dead? Knocked out? I didn't know which. With herculean effort, I forced myself towards the surface. I felt a gentle touch on my cheek. It was a bloody paw. The glinting eyes of a werewolf looked down upon me. I was traveling in the bed...somewhere. "We sacrificed quite a lot to get you." The werewolf said. I sunk to the bottom of the syrup afterwards. I wasn't in friendly hands. And if they wanted to torture or kill me, I didn't want to be aware for it. Doors opened. The bed was shoved into a vehicle of some kind. Then the vehicle began to move. The last thing I remember before going completely out was wondering if it would hurt when they started. Wondering if I'd just wake up dead. |
un: 
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