Easiest Way To Kill A Werewolf

Life With A Werewolf story

         

The Easiest Way To Kill A Werewolf

by Louis Williams

          The first thing I'm always asked when I reveal my other form to a human is if I dyed my fur. They have no idea the painstaking hours it would take to get everything silver and white just to have it all fall out by the time that I shift back to human. What werewolf would have time for such things? No. I did not dye my fur. No werewolf would ever dye their fur. The effort is just not worth the pay off. Besides, if I did dye it, I'd be jet black.
          Most find it hard to believe that it's a genetic defect. This defect is one of the reasons I'm a broke Fast Food working werewolf, instead of one of those fancy government paid ones like my friend. I'd love to have his job. Nightly hunts, much better paycheck and benefits, an environment you can be open and honest about your werewolf condition with. Co-workers who enjoy your company, instead of looking for the first excuse to sneak out of the building and get high behind the dumpster. But that's a pipe dream. I could never get that job. My defect makes me easier to see at night, especially by the more dangerous critters.
          For the government, that's a big liability. We're the last line of defense society has against the things that bump in the night. That's why we have the thick fur. It's protection against the tough underbrush as we move through the woods at speeds most humans could only dream of. The ears to hear things most of you couldn't hear with your best equipment. The eyes that can see in near perfect dark as well as most humans can during noon day. The nose that can sniff out scents most creatures could only dream of smelling. And of course, the teeth and claws capable of hurting those who would hurt our humans, first.
          There's not much out there that can kill a werewolf. If a creature got lucky and cut off our head I guess, but that would take a lot. Silver can do it, sure. Bullets or blades, it doesn't matter. If silver sticks in our bodies, it will eventually poison us. Of course, silver is only the second most effective method of killing werewolves.
          My trailer is twenty feet from my neighbors on the south side and a good microsecond sprint for me to get into the woods on the north end when I need to. Each tenant in our trailer park gets a few square feet of lawn so we can pretend that we have a real yard. We each get our own single wide slice of heaven as we sit parked at angles, as if waiting for some trucker to come take our homes away in the middle of the night with us still sleeping inside. A perfect spot for a werewolf like me to just sit listen in on the neighbors as they have their usual late evening fights.
          I could hear everything. With a werewolf's sense of hearing and thin trailer walls, how could I not? I heard Hannah pacing through the kitchen. She thumped extra hard when she's upset about something, like she's subconsciously trying to stomp the anger out. "Well, how'd you like it if you were stuck in a trailer all day with no friends, no family, and only that damn fast food job?"
          Then there was the distinct sound of Carlos crushing a beer can in his hand. His easy chair thumped against the wall as he stood. "That place sucks anyway," he grumbled as he tossed the can towards the trash. There was a tinny sound as the can bounced off the wall or the trash then slide across their linoleum floor. "Tell him to quit. Get a real job."
          An argument I've heard time and again. I'd love to tell him that if I could find something else, I wouldn't be a shift leader at a fast food place. Unfortunately, Carlos is too polite to bring it up in my company. Not that we talk much.
          Me and Carlos never really hit it off. Hannah and I are great friends. I guess, that's part of my problem. When you're lonely, especially for a werewolf, you forget little things that are so important to humans. Things like personal space. Boundaries. Things like privacy and alone time. Words that to a werewolf have a different meaning.
          Hannah sighed. I could picture her with her arms by her side, staring up at the ceiling when she did it. "Why don't you tell him, that?"
          "Why doesn't he have any friends?" I gritted my teeth at that, my triangular ears folding down a bit in pain at Carlos' question. Wish I could turn the TV on and drown them out. But, I'd still hear them, no matter how loud the set got. Still wish I was in the room, defending myself.
          Something sizzled as it was flopped over in a pan. I could smell faint traces of beef with vegetable filler frying in a pan. Greasy frozen burgers, the cheapest they probably could find. There was fries being baked in the oven as well. "Why don't you ever want to do anything with him," Hannah asked, probably standing in front of the stove as she did so.
          "He doesn't need to be in the cabin with us," Carlos said. I could see him leaned against a counter or wall, his arms crossed in front of him as he snarled down at his shoes in that manner that he always did so in.
          "He said he'd get his own, Carlos. He'd be right next door. We'd have some privacy."
          "Where's he going to be when we go skinny dipping?"
          "Who says there's going to be any skinny dipping?"
          Something thumped hard. Carlos must have punched the wall or something. Smacked a counter top. At this distance, those actions sounded muffled together. "Exactly! If he goes, we'll be playing babysitter again."
          Hannah and Carlos moved in a little over a month ago. They were doe-eyed, bushy tailed, and attached at the hip. It wasn't uncommon to see her come over to him and kiss him randomly outside, in front of myself, the neighbors, God and everyone. As if they were publicly declaring their love to the heavens. They were cute. I saw them the same way, I suppose that most normal people see puppies.
          That's when I stuck my giant, needy wolf nose in the middle of everything they had been doing. They were cute. Innocent. In love. Was nice enough to me. And had a giant bald-headed werewolf had to always start butting in on their outdoor family activities. It was driving Carlos nuts. I could hardly blame him for being annoyed with me. But he didn't understand. I could hardly help myself.
          I gritted my teeth, my ears folding back against my skull as I listened to the fight. The knot in my stomach grew as I stared at the dark walls in front of me. Silver is the second easiest way to kill a werewolf.
          Before a tear could form on my face and run down my muzzle, I was hit with a stench. The stench of death, both fresh and old. I raced outside as fast as I could, my door swung open behind me and slammed into the trailer wall. It never shut when I did that.
          My fur coat shimmered in the pale moonlight, what little of it there was. Underbrush pushed past, the sound of leaves crunching beneath my paws as fast as I could carry. Twin silver eyes glared at me from deep in the forest. The monster turned and ran, it's lumbering steps echoed for me, but I doubt any of my neighbors actually heard it. About ten feet from Hannah and Carlos' place, just inside the wood line was a deer carcass. It was half gnawed on, about been three days old. It was left as a challenge to my mark on their home.
          I flexed my claws hard, imagining them wrapping around the creatures throat. I wanted to go after it. To throttle it. To rip it's throat out. Before I could persue, I heard my neighbors door slam behind me. Shit, I thought, and turned to race towards my trailer.
          Too late. Hannah and Carlos stood outside my home, staring up into the open door. "Why does he always leave his door open," she grumbled, looking around.
          Carlos had a baseball bat in his hands, stalking behind her. He told her to stay behind for a moment as he went inside, his bat at the ready. She stomped again, rubbing her arms to fight away the thin chill. Then her eyes turned towards me.
          The scream was bone chilling. She jumped backwards as I leapt back into the trees. Shit. Carlos came running back out towards her. Of course he did. The evening fight forgotten. There was anger in his eyes now. An anger brought on by fear as he got Hannah's half stumbled, half mumbled explanation out.
          "I-i-it was White a-and silver a-and r-r-red eyes..." she muttered. Shit. This was going to become an incident...
          "I'll check it out," he said, "stay here. Go inside, baby."
          "M-maybe I can call the cops." Hope lit inside my heart for half a moment. Yes, I thought, Call the cops! Do that!
          Get some government werewolf down here for a change. He'd get me out of the damn trees, and maybe deal with the damn...
          "Cops? Fuck that," Carlos grumbled. "They won't do shit. I can handle it. Go inside."
          Shit. There he was, stumbling around the woods, chasing two creatures that would use that bat of his like a damn toothpick. One of which would gladly devour him. "Fuckin Mitch, is that you, man?"
          Twin silver eyes opened. They glowed angrily in the darkness. "Mitch?"
          Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit........
          As quietly as I could, I climbed down, away from Carlos. I glared a threat at the creature in the distance, then forced a change. Carlos thankfully was stomping around in the wrong direction, away from me. How I wish it was like Hollywood movies, where you do a montage of some badly created special effects and Bam! You look human again.
          Gritting my teeth, I suppressed the urge to howl, the urge to whine. Forcing a fast change hurts in a way that no human could ever understand. Think of it like this. Imagine the pain of a full body muscle spasm. The pain of every muscle in your entire body pulling and rocking you in ways your bones don't want to go. Now, imagine someone is constantly moving, playing with you when you're doing that. Forcing those muscles to rip and tear as they continue to violently shake and pull. Think of that, and you'd be close.
          The silver eyes glowed again. I wasn't done. I wasn't done! Carlos was getting closer. "Mitch," he asked, stepping towards the creature. It rumbled at him. A deep low growl. "Mitch?"
          "Here," I gasped, standing. Of course I was naked, doing my best to not let him see it. "Son of a bitch," I huffed. Half pretending to be out of breath. "You see which way they went?"
          "Who?"
          "The uh...kids. Broke into my house when I was asleep," I gave Carlos a sheepish smile. "I chased them, they went...." I glanced into the woods. The twin eyes were gone. The creature was still close by. I could smell it. "I think they went that way," I pointed towards the other side of the woods, away from that thing. We spent half an hour wandering in wrong direction, Carlos swinging the bat around telling me what he was going to do to those 'punk kids' when he got his hands on them.
          "I tell you man, those little bastards have no respect. Including whoever it is in the woods back there." He pointed with the bat. The eyes glowed again. "Yeah, man. I see you, tough guy. You want to start shit? Huh?" He swung the bat at the brush.
          The distant creature growled.
          I growled, low, soft in my throat at him. It didn't move. Carlos, posturing, shouting, didn't notice.
          "Yeah! That's what I thought. Punk bitch." Half walking/half strutting back to his trailer, he paused, when I stop to hide behind a tree.
          "Wait a minute," he blinked. "Dude. Why are you naked?"
          "I was asleep," I murmured, again, grinning sheepishly, blushing a bit. "Could you go inside? I'll run to my trailer after?"
          "Yeah, man, I got you." As soon as I heard his trailer door slam, I glared one more time at the woods, then raced back inside. I slept in my werewolf form that night, one ear towards the woods. Another towards my neighbors.

***

          It took far more effort than Hannah or Carlos will ever know to shove the emptiness down that morning. It had been a night of fitful sleep. What little dreams there were was filled with fangs and teeth. I awoke with images of a long empty hallway, every room empty. In each one, a body part of Hannah or Carlos. Nothing more. No friends. No family. Just emptiness and death echoing the ache in my heart.
          There was no way that I was going to show Hannah or Carlos my ache. So, I hid it as I escaped my trailer. I did it the same way every human being hides their own pain. It was tucked safely behind a smile, as I 'accidentally' ran into Hannah loading their car up.
          "Oh Mitch, you look Terrible," She said, as she stood over her White Honda Accord.
          "Yeah," I yawned and reached for the sky in a stretch. "Weird night last night, then I get called in. Some new kid quit on us, so I got a shift this afternoon. No lake trip for me, it seems."
          "Oh, I'm so sorry," Hannah said. Her face said she was sorry. But the pheromones coming off her had more relief than sorrow in them. "I wish you could go with us."
          It was an over reach, I knew. Part of her wanted me to go sure. Part of me wanted to go too, but some things doesn't require the friend to be there. Weekend trip to the lake with her husband driving us? Nah, this third wheel's staying home. "It's alright, you two have a good time. Make sure you don't come back tonight, eh?"
          I tried to hide my warning behind a smile. Disguise it as a tame lewd joke, complete with wiggling eyebrows like I was a character stolen from some black and white comedy. It missed her, like I figured it would. She smacked my arm and gave me a soft "oh stop," like a school girl chastising her girlfriend.
          Carlos stepped out then, a pair of fishing poles ready to be ignored in one hand, and a bag ready to be used over his shoulder. Before he could say anything I smiled at him with the same false sincerity I'd given Hannah. "Have a good time." Then I went inside, closed the door, and waited.
          There wasn't much else in our corner of the trailer park. An old woman lived opposite me who had to keep her television on full blast just to hear her game shows. A drunk a couple trailers down who thought unemployment benefits were drinking benefits. High school drop outs in a trailer near the front of the park were attempting to make meth based on things they saw from the show Breaking Bad. There was a running bet in the trailer park for when they finally blow themselves up. My guess was within ninety days of moving in if they didn't do something stupid and get busted first.
          My eyes drifted from trailer to trailer, then back to the woods. When I glanced back down at Carlos, he was staring up at me, a quizical look on his face. I guess it looked as if I was staring at them enviously. But really, I was trying to watch the woods. To watch the creature that I knew was watching them. the thing watching Carlos bend over and load his suitcase into the back of his small Accord. Watching Hannah load her things then climb into the passenger seat. Watching both of them with hunger and malice. I looked down in time to see Carlos slam the trunk. "Creep's watching us," Carlos grumbled as he climbed into the drivers seat.
          "He's so lonely," Hannah said, I couldn't see her, but I bet her hands were clasped in front of her chest.
          "Come on," a door slammed. Don't know who did it. "We're going to be late."
          The sweet and bitter sound of their car engine starting echoed through the trailer. Then it grew fainter as the little car made its way down the highway, towards a weekend of fun and away from me and the monster. I closed my eyes. My heart a cask of an empty hallway. Each door containing nothing, and no one. But death and me.
          Walking outside, I rounded to the back of our trailers. Theirs and mine were both smeared with juice from the guts from the rotted deer carcass. The rotten fluid used to make two wide marks on our homes, like the worlds most toxic rainbows. The threat had been made. It was going to kill and eat me first, before it destroyed them.
          The smart play was to call the cops. To get them to get whatever government werewolf in the area down here to assist or take control. In my minds eye, I saw Hannah and Carlos dead. Torn to shreds by that thing, the cops too late to do anything. Clenching my teeth as I forced the image away, I turned to the woods, and glared at them one more time. "Game on," I snarled. Then went back inside. I had a fight to prepare for.

***

          Ogres are nasty beings. Almost to the one they thrive on destroying human happiness. Their culture, what little of it there is, delights in human suffering. They're drawn to the poor, the young, the naive. They draw them into the woods, where they can hunt the humans at their leisure, and feast on their flesh when they're bored of torturing them.
          That's what this thing thought it was going to do. It wanted to devour this poor couple who are just starting out. Lure them both in, hurt them. Torture them. Kill them. The very ones who was kind enough to talk to me and befriend me, before I smothered them. The ones who I swore to protect. Not on my watch, I thought, staring down at the forest floor.
          Ogre's are large. They lumber. Their swaying steps allows them to move through the forest without disturbing much of anything. It's very hard for the uninitiated to see or hear them unless they want you to. I watched as it crept closer towards the trailers. A crude loin cloth flapping over it's groin. It's arms were slick with grease. It's hair slick with the same grease. His tusks had been painted blood red, a poison designed to hurt and paralyze me. Those sickening silver eyes glinted with terrible humor and hunger in what remained of the light.
          I wrinkled my nose, inhaling the scent. Grease made from human fat. It's a misnomer to think that Ogre's are flabby. At a glance they look fat. Out of shape. But, in reality, it's not fat. It's thick skin, over grown to create a kind of armor. King Arthur's own Excalibur would have a tough time cutting through that mess. A werewolf hunting an ogre alone could very easily be a dead werewolf, if he wasn't careful.
          I watched the vile thing passed beneath my tree without even looking up. He crept towards the trailers, pressing outward at the edge of the forest in that lumbering, swaying walk they have. His head slipping past this low branch and that one. His vile stench almost burning my nose hairs.
          Lifting my muzzle to the air, I gave as long and cold of a howl as I could, pouring all my anger, rage and loneliness into it. I was hurting. It was going to pay. My cry rang out through the whole trailer park. I later found out it pulled the old lady to her window, echoing over her game show. It Pulled the Breaking Bad wannabes outside, looking for the creature who could make such a sound. It may have even temporarily woke up the drunk, though he didn't say anything about it. The ogre turned, gasping in shock as it stared up at me. A silver and white werewolf with blood red eyes, snarling down upon it.
          Yes, I have a birth defect. I've learned to live with it.
          It roared up at me, the bellow of a forgotten man. The bellow of a son of Cain. Forsaken and forlorn. It took a lumbering step, then two, reaching up for me in the trees. The massive creature almost reached me. I leapt backwards. It took another step. Snarling. Breath coming in jagged gasps and snarls. Then I leapt backwards still. It was a new moon, and the thin starlight was not enough to pierce the darkness of this forest. Of my hunting ground.
          Another lumbering step. It took a swipe, and then I leaped. Claws out, ready for battle.
          I sailed right over it's thick arm, my claws marking a dark line down it. A line that was barely felt. I tried grabbing his arm, but slid off easily, slamming into the forest floor. I flipped over in time to see the creature bringing it's thick foot down.
          Werewolves are strong, and surprisingly nimble creatures. As his foot came crashing down, I rolled, easily dodging him. The booming echo of his footfall did not slowing me down. Grabbing his ankle, I crawled up the beasts back, thick claws digging into thick skin. I neared it's neck. Raising an arm, I prepared to sink my claws down into its jugular. But a large beefy hand grabbed my arm before I could, and slammed me into a tree.
          The monster held me in front of its disgusting, grinning face, as stars danced my vision. It blew vile breath in my face, forcing my ears back as my lips curled into a snarl on my muzzle. The ogre gave a chuckle, then gnashed its teeth at me once. Twice. Then a third time. Finally, it brought me towards those tusks, and the dangerous red poison on them, ready to finish the fight.
          As it brought me in close, I swung forward as best as I could, reached under it's chin with my claws, and ripped. Black blood burst from beneath it's neck. It gasped, then dropped me. It's hands flew to it's neck as it staggered. Forward and back. The fowl, vile smelling blood spurt over me, onto the ground, then around as it staggered, then finally collapsed with a loud thoom!
          One heaving gasp. Then another. Then a third. It glared at me with one good eye. Then it finally died.
          I staggered back to my trailer. No cops. Not another werewolf in sight. Walking towards my phone on the counter, I played the whole 'Can you activate it without scratching the screen' game. After timing my phone out twice, I finally opened it up, then called Crash. Dialed. Nothing. Shit, I thought. Of course he wouldn't answer. He's at work now. I don't trust most other government werewolves. What was I going to do?

***

          It had been two days. No Crash. Hannah and Carlos came home from the lake a little tanned and in better spirits. I did my best to not give them the annoying neighbordog routine, but it was hard. At times in that trailer, it felt as if the very walls were pressing in upon me. Only the scant few photos and my television to keep me company. One long empty hallway. With nothing but doors and me. My heart ached as I thought of it. Silver is only the second easiest way to kill a werewolf.
          I flicked my television on, actively trying to block out Hannah and Carlos' canoodling, and failing miserably. My sharp ears picking everything up, my poor lonely loupine mind cataloging every sound. Eventually, I got a text from her. I'm sorry, it read, we need some time to ourselves now. I'll call you in a week or so, okay?
          It wasn't just me, I knew that. It's the way humans are. They need each other more than a pack. They don't need to have a bunch of people around them at all times. Many human's idea of family is shuffling parents off into someone else's care. They see them on birthdays and at Christmas, make phone calls once a month, if they remember. A werewolf would never do that. Could never do that.
          My throat tightened for a moment. I eventually shot her a text back. Sure, I understand. Hope you had a good time at the lake. I'll talk to you later.
          Tears hit my phone. Silver is the second easiest way to kill a werewolf. That thought had been burning through my brain that weekend. Silver is the second easiest kill a werewolf. The first is...
          The sound of my ringtone startled me, forcing a yelp from my lips. I fumbled to answer it, nearly dropping it twice before I finally activated the screen. "Hey Crash," I said, surpressing a sniffle.
          "Sorry, was away on a thing," he said. "What's up?"
          "Ogre rotting in the woods," I grumbled.
          "That was dangerous," he said. "You okay?"
          I bit back a sigh, as I tried to force some cheer into my voice. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright. Just need you to do your government thing and get rid of that before the apes start looking for the source of the smell. Right now they think it's a burst sewer pipe."
          "And you need a hunt." It wasn't a question.
          I laughed, "how can you tell?"
          "Believe me, I do too," he said. "I got one more day off. Why don't you meet me here tonight, and we'll see what sort of game we can scare up. I'll call my boss to deal with the ogre."
          I smiled. The first genuine smile I've had in a long time. "I get off at ten," I said. "I'll be there at 10:05."
          Yes, silver is the second most powerful thing on the planet to kill a werewolf. Loneliness is the first. We're meant to run in packs. To protect those packs of humans out there in our lives, without them even noticing. But this forced isolation, it destroys us. Far too many of us.
          Thankfully, I still have friends in my life. And I have no idea what I'd do without them. I looked towards Hannah and Carlos' trailer. The closest humans I had to family at the moment. The closest ones I had to a pack. Some packs are kept at a distance, I thought.
          "Distance kills," I grumbled as I started for the door.

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