The Werewolf Whisperer

This wasn’t the life I chose. And this sure wasn’t the way I figured the world was run. One day, I’m a mixed martial arts fighter trying to make a name for myself, and then suddenly, I’m the chosen savior of the Mani people, or vampires, or whatever the hell they are–we are. How the hell was I supposed to live as a vampire? Or as an eagle? It wasn’t like I could transition and become an eagle whenever I felt like it. Some redneck would probably shoot me out of the sky.

I am now a Mani. Not by choice.
Mani’s
are vampires. Not your everyday Dracula vampires either. We don’t turn into bats or fog. We can turn or
transition
into specific birds whenever we feel like it. The men transition into black ravens, and the women into red hawks. Me? Hell. I transfer into a giant white eagle. Yeah, you heard it right: an eagle.

I was the lucky one. I was
The Chosen
.

Somehow, somewhere, I was the one to bring harmony to the Mani. Me? Of all people? I was chosen to save some crazy vampire race from going extinct? Are you fucking kidding me? Who wants that pressure? I sure as hell didn’t.

One month ago, I didn’t believe that vampires or werewolves even existed. Now, I have been given the keys to the kingdom? Who the hell am I?

This was supposed to be Atticai’s job. Freaking Atticai! What the hell happened to him?  Did I kill him? Where did he disappear to? Did he go to some kind of Mani heaven… or hell? I had no answers. The only ones who could give me the answers I needed, I was avoiding.

It had been two weeks since the night I became a Mani. I was turned into this unwillingly, and I hadn’t quite wrapped my brain around that fact.  My life as I once knew it was over. It is absurd to think that I could be okay with that thought.  My life is I knew it was over.  Sure I needed time.  That’s what I did. I barricaded myself in my house. I had enough to eat and enough to drink. I wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything.

Seriously? What did they expect me to do? Just assume the role of some chosen prophesied vampire and go along with their delusional ideas without even saying a word? The Triat never gave me a vision, the Triat never gave me a heads up. Where were my premonitions? Where were my dreams?

Dreams? That’s a good one. I don’t know if I even sleep any more. It’s like I close my eyes and rest. Time skips as if I was dreaming. I feel my muscles rebuilding, but somehow the sleep part escapes me. Do I sleep or do I regenerate? Do I dream or do I plot?

Also, shouldn’t those blood cravings be kicking in right about now? I thought vampires roamed the earth trying to find a good vein.  Hell, any vein.  So far everything I eat seems to go down fine.  I really had no idea what was myth or truth when it came to living as a creature of the night. The only vampire facts I knew, I had read from books and seen in movies. And I think watching
Vampire Sucks
a dozen times on cable
was’t the best source to finding out vampire information.

I’m waiting for this uncontrollable desire for human blood to take over all my senses. The only thing I had been craving these days is a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich. So unless there is some secret human blood ingredient in Jiffy peanut butter, I hadn’t been hit with any intense cravings yet.

One thing that was definitely not myth is
sunlight
. Unless I transition to the eagle, I can’t cope in any kind of daylight. It gives me the same dehydrated, over-heated feeling that I get after a fight. I feel nauseous until I get out of the sun.

Yari and Lena have both tried to contact me every day.  I ignore their calls and their unannounced knocks at the door. What the hell did they expect? I turned into a freaking vampire trying to save both of their lives. I was going to need some space to come to terms with my new reality.

My old reality consisted of training to be a mixed martial arts fighter and hanging out with Tommy, my best friend in the world.  Apparently, Tommy isn’t even his real name. It’s Kyro,. And he had been living as a werewolf the whole time I’d known him.

Tommy being a werewolf wasn’t the thing that concerned me. What was on my mind was if he was alive or not. He had been pronounced dead and sent to the hospital morgue.  Did he come back to life and take off? And I had no idea where he went or if he was still alive. I really needed Tommy right now. He is my only family. Maybe he could shed some light on all of this.

Unfortunately, it was summertime. Not only was it hot as balls in southern California, it didn’t get dark till about 8:30 at night. I had finally become restless and sick of being cooped up in my house. I didn’t want to talk to any Mani yet, but I wanted to leave the house. Get out and stretch my legs.

I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling. I looked at the clock. It was 9:00 pm. That meant it was officially dark, and it was safe for me to go outside. I had some serious cabin fever and really needed a change of venue. I had been wearing nothing but basketball shorts for days, and I figured I was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror. I had lost weight. My body was more slender and paler than I remember ever being. My six-pack looked more like ribs etched in my skin.  My blond hair seemed a bit darker than before. Yeah, I definitely needed a shower. I peeled off my shorts and walked naked down the hallway to my bathroom. I turned on the shower. There was nothing like a scalding hot shower to lighten my mood.  I always liked hot showers and tonight was no different.

I took a ten-minute shower, wondering if it was the greatest I had ever taken. The water felt amazing. The shower penetrated my muscles.  I couldn’t believe how refreshed I felt when I got out.

I dried myself off and went to the bedroom. I decided to wear a pair of 501 jeans out of my closet and put on a plain black t-shirt. I decided to put on some hiking boots and I put on some Drakkar Noir. It was an old school cologne that seemed to appease my sensibility.  The smell was sweet like the woods with a touch of pine.

Wyatt and Hector brought my truck back and left me a text message telling me they’d dropped it off, leaving the keys under the fender.  Wyatt had sent me a text message, and told me they’d dropped it off.  I liked my white truck.  It was one of the constants in my life, and I needed reminders of who I once was. That was going to be very important to me.

I stepped outside and took a deep breath. Wow, the air felt good. It was the first time I had been outside in days. Sure enough, my white Ford truck was in the driveway. It was a beauty. I walked over to my truck, found the keys, and got in.  I put the key in the ignition. This was the first time I was going to drive as a Mani. Why did I even have to drive? I could transition into an eagle and go wherever the hell I wanted to. But tonight, I needed to drive. I wanted to feel normal.  Have a little bit of fun and just forget for a couple of hours.

I put on some tunes.
Dammit!
A hip hop station! I hated hip hop! Give me the Beatles or Depeche Mode any day. I scanned the radio and found a song I liked. It was classic Pink Floyd. That was exactly what I needed right now– to feel comfortably numb. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I had no idea where I was going.  I was just going.  I got on the 215 freeway and headed towards Orange County.  There is a lot more going on in that direction.  I was in desperate need of a beer, or a shot, or both.

The 215 became the 91, and I headed to the 55 freeway.

I carried a fake since I was seventeen.  I used it often when Tommy and I would go to local bars. Tommy had mentioned this dive bar called Slammers off the freeway, and it was about time I checked it out. I took the exit and headed to the hole-in-the-wall.

The parking lot wasn’t big. In fact it was packed to the rim.  I parked my truck in the only space that was open. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks and run down cars.  This was not going to be the type of bar that served high society. I sure as hell didn’t care.  I was the furthest thing from that crowd.

I cautiously got out of my car.  I wasn’t here to pick up chicks, but I stopped and looked in my driver side mirror anyway.  I brushed my hair back. I looked good. I knew I had some serious game.
Maybe I’d flirt a little bit.

I started towards the bar. The parking lot was torn up as if a construction crew had gone through and ripped it apart.  This was the kind of place where a fight would break out and the police wouldn’t show till 20 minutes later. 
My kind of place.

I walked up to the guy at the door.  He was an African American fellow and seemed bored to death. I pulled out my wallet and showed him my ID.

He looked over my driver’s license before he asked, “Hey, you’re some kind of fighter aren’t you?”

I was shocked. Not too many people recognized me.  He must have been a fan of the sport.

“I used to be.  I’m retired.”

“You’re kind of young to be retired.” He began sizing me up.

“It’s a tough sport,” I murmured.

“As I remember, you’re a tough son-of-a-bitch.” He handed me back my I.D. “Just keep it classy in there.”  I smiled at the irony of that statement.  I entered the bar and the room felt like it was 120 degrees. There were a number of people sitting and drinking at tables, playing darts, and shooting pool.
Yeah, my kind of place.

There was a lot of facial hair in this place. Beards, side burns, and goatees were an obvious prerequisite to get into this joint. I hadn’t shaved in a couple weeks, so I assumed I was going to fit in. Boy, was I wrong.

I scoped out the joint to find a place to sit. This was a definite sausage fest. There were a few girls in the joint, but none seemed like they were here to do anything other than get shitfaced with their friends. Something caught my eye in the back of the bar. Or should I say
someone
. There was the largest man I had ever seen. He looked like a Sasquatch. He had a braided brown goatee and a bald head shaved down to his scalp. Just his presence alone demanded respect, and believe me he had it. I wasn’t in the mood to kick the biggest guy in the bar’s ass tonight.
Thank God
. But damn, he was a beast. I spotted an open stool in front of the bar area. I didn’t want to make much eye contact, because I really just wanted to chill out and drink. I did feel like every eye in the bar was on me. Even Sasquatch in the back was aware I was in the bar.
They must not get too many new folks in this place
, I thought.

I walked up to the bar and sat on the lopsided stool in front of the counter. No wonder nobody was sitting here. The bartender’s back was to me. “Hey buddy,” I said, “I’ll have a Vodka Coke.”