Wolf Asylum (15 page)

“Oh, that's a very old Germanic style of love making. It's been renamed over the years, I think it was something like,
Scheisse Melden Liebe
, in German. The modernization of the name was for North America, it's like we can't stand anything foreign. Anyway, if a woman will do that for you it's a sign you are her one, true master.” Darwin stopped to test how his story was weaving. “It's tricky to accomplish, but once you have them doing, ‘The Pipeline' just about anything goes.”

“Is it like ass to mouth?” Tim asked, growing excited. “I've always wanted a chick to do that for me!”

“If she'll do the pipeline, I guarantee she'll do ass to mouth,” Darwin toyed.

“So, what do I have to do?” Tim was unable to stand the suspense any longer.

“Well, first you have to prepare, it's something you cannot rush,” Darwin again teased, not giving much up. “I recommend eating corn on the cob, lots of it.”

Tim was in complete oblivion. “Corn, why?”

“She'll appreciate it, it's like eating pineapple,” Darwin concluded.

“Pineapple?” Tim continued being sexually lost. Although he was a deviant, he had no clue of the inner workings of kinky or mutually enjoyable sex.

“Oh, my God. You don't know about pineapple?” He clarified genuinely surprised, “Pineapple makes your spunk taste better; it's something you do for your partner, if you want her to swallow your load.”

“I didn't know that! I'll try that! So far, every girl I've been with spat it out. It would be awesome if they swallowed my stuff!” Tim was grinning ear to ear, “Okay, so what does corn do?”

“It's all about pleasing your partner. The corn will add shape and ridges to add to their enjoyment. So anyway, you punch out a loaf, freeze it, and then they fuck themselves with it…anally…vaginally—you decide.” Darwin hit the punch line with ferocity hoping to stun his friend.

Darwin was greeted with silence. The punch line came and went and now he wondered what expression he had created. Darwin smiled to himself, trying not to laugh but the suspense got the better of him. He stopped and turned to find sheer shock with his friend.

Tim was frozen in spot, his jaw slowly dropping exposing his gaping mouth. Tim was somewhere else; in his eyes he was playing out the perverted sexual act. It was like a car wreck, he didn't want to watch but he couldn't turn away. The scenario would play out in his mind to conclusion and Darwin could only laugh at the blemish in his friend's sexually vanilla mind that he was now responsible for.

“Is that a fucking homo thing? Dude, that ain't right!” Tim uttered softly and dazed.

Unable to hold it in any longer Darwin let out a deep laugh from the pit of his stomach. He was laughing at his friend, but he hadn't made it up, The Alaskan Pipeline was real. “No Tim, it's not a homo thing. Though the corn part is good for anal-or so I've read. I've never done the Pipeline and I have no interest in ever trying it, but it is a real thing. Yes, it's fucking sick. But I'm not lying when I say, if you can get her to do that, you can get her to do anything!”

“True,” Tim agreed. “I think I'll stick to my vanilla, and maybe throw some sprinkles on it, and leave it at that. You can have your pipeline corn hole shit!”

Silence again returned to the two. Darwin continued to think about Mary and Steve but he also became hung up on the notion that he had “come out” to someone. It felt like exposing his cock for the world to scrutinize.

“Hey Dar?” Tim asked from behind.

“You want to know about the poltergeist don't you?” Darwin replied, assuming his friend would suck him dry of every ounce of sexual knowledge he had.

“Ah, no,” Tim replied. “I don't mean to ask personal questions. I know you like you privacy but I'm confused. If you like dudes, why are we looking for Mary?” he reluctantly asked.

Darwin had known sooner or later the question would come up. Even in his own mind he wasn't sure what the real answer was. All Mary was to him was a conduit to what he was suppose to have. That wasn't to say he didn't love her, but he also didn't see her during their fornications. In fairness he hadn't been with any woman who he devoted his complete attention to, secretly he was always thinking about the one, the only.

“It's complicated. Maybe I'm just being selfish,” he replied.

“Is that fair to her? I know…” Tim paused being careful not to tread onto the subject that made Darwin bleed the most. “I know who you saw yourself with, and I get Mary's connection…but is that right? Are you even being fair to yourself?”

Darwin again came to a stop. He lowered his head and fought back the tears he knew were on the surface. Tim was right. Darwin continued fighting for something that could never be and he wasn't sure why he wasn't able to let go.

“I'm guilty Tim…” Darwin began turning around to his friend.

Tim was mute. His arms were out to his side, palms up turned to the sky and his eyes rolled back to reveal nothing but gigantic white orbs. His rigid body hovered off the ground nearly a foot. Darwin was speechless and barely able to process what he was seeing.

“My god, Tim!” Darwin spat out against his own brain's will.

Tim's mouth opened in silence and continued to stretch and contort. His jaw plunged lower, down past his neck and on its way towards his chest. The jaw bone broke and the cartilage gave way until his mouth was as wide as a bowling ball. Still, his body remained stiff.

In a wheeze, a sound began to gurgle from deep within Tim's chest. The sound began like an oxygen-starved pneumonia patient; bubbling and churning in the fluid-filled lungs. The boiling in his respiration only grew and soon the sound changed from curdled milk being sucked through a straw into something much louder.

Like a chorus of monks chiming in quick succession, the chant began as the sound of one, ten, one hundred and then thousands of Buddhists all emitting the exact same horrifying tone from Tim's gaping oral cavity.

The world around Darwin vibrated as the tone intensified. Darwin seemed grounded but everything else blurred and disappeared into a Monet style portrait. Tim was clear but the trumpets of hell blazed on louder until Darwin could no longer stand it. Driving his fingers into his ear canals he tried to deafen the tone but it persisted and grew.

Darwin glanced up to Tim in disbelief. The sound was pulsating deep within his eyes and it was beginning to cause Darwin pain. He fell to his knees and he knew he would soon change. He could feel the wolf being kicked from its slumber. Darwin cocked his head up to Tim one final time not knowing what more he could see.

Tim cracked his neck leftwards snapping the bones audibly before drifting overtop Darwin, clipping his head as he raced past. Darwin quickly turned to see which direction Tim had been pulled to, but he was already gone. The parade of Monks could be heard running through the woods and getting further away. The smear of color in the woods lessened and soon the real world returned. Finally, the sound dissipated like smoke and Darwin was again alone in his woods.

“Dar…” His radio squawked before clearing up on its own. “Darwin! Darwin Foster! Are you there? Over.”

Darwin remained on his knees in the woods, alone. The fright of watching Tim being taken had peeled away his skin, exposing his frailties. Werewolf or not, whatever had taken Tim was stronger than any supernatural gift that Darwin or any other New Haven resident possessed. It also confirmed his long, held suspicion that there was indeed a power in the woods, a terrifying one at that.

The radio roused him from his fear but it only brought with it confusion. He wasn't certain how long he had been petrified, but his crotch and legs were cold and wet. Snapping out of his apprehension, he reached down for his radio and slowly made a transmission to the outside world.

“Go,” he said quietly.

“Christ sakes, Darwin speak up; can barely hear you,” the chipper old lady demanded.

He enunciated as slowly and as methodically as he could. “This is Darwin, send your message.”

“We've got bodies. Lots and lots of bones,” she replied on the now crystal clear channel.

“Where Terri?”

“We're about six miles on the north side of the Thompson, north-northwest,” Terri directed.

“
Why did you go there?
” he shouted.

“Jesus! Picked up the faint smell of blood and followed it here. This place is deep in the woods, I doubt I could have found it without the blood. Can you and Tim make your way over here?”

Darwin hesitated not knowing what to tell his pack. Had he really witnessed it? Aside from his own metamorphosis, Tim's possession and abduction was the most fantastic thing he had ever witnessed. Would they believe him? Could they believe him? Darwin simply did not know how to approach the situation. Worse yet, whatever took Tim could easily return and take him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Terri, listen carefully,” Darwin stated as calmly as he could. “Stay in groups of six or more. Nobody, I mean nobody, is to set out anywhere alone…do you understand?”

“It's these woods, ain't it?” Terri asked.

“How'd you know?” Darwin quickly asked.

Terri said, “we've all felt it, like something is stalking us. We all feel like it wants to pounce on us.”

“It does,” Darwin confirmed. “Something took Tim. It took control of him, and he floated away. Yes I said floated!” Darwin barked making his message as clear as he could.

“You alone?” Terri asked, not questioning the unbelievable story.

Darwin had to admit the truth he was alone and very scared. He softly pressed the button on his radio and meekly said, “Yes.”

“You head back to base camp just as fast as you can, we'll get a group to bring you out to these bodies and…” The radio again began to experience severe interference and as abruptly as it had started, his communication with the outside world ended.

As the forest stilled once more Darwin had the distinct feeling of someone, or something, standing directly behind him. Whoever they were, they were staring through his soul and dancing on his grave. His skin became clammy and his arms began to judder rhythmically. As he did when he was a child, Darwin closed his eyes and told himself that nothing was there, and that nothing could hurt him.

There is something there you fucking pansy! Face it or run!

Frozen in place, Darwin knew he had to move if he had any chance of making it out of the forest before the forest decided to consume him, too. How could he run? He could barely reopen his eyes after he had voluntarily closed them. The shaking in his arms had now spread throughout his lower extremities. Was it fear crippling him or was it something else?

What stood behind him was draining him. In his weakness its strength grew. Darwin understood it, but he was losing his will to fight. His only chance was to face the entity, to turn and look at it and see it for what it was.

Blending what remained of his adrenaline and guts Darwin snapped his neck to face his rear. In one quick motion he had succeeded but his eyes remained glued. Could he force himself to man up and face the fear that was there? He had told himself ever since he had become a werewolf he would no longer be afraid, that he would face his problems head on. But here he was, cowering in his own filth.

What had been allayed became broken with a deep harmonious tune that Darwin recognized even at a distance. The monks were on their way back; they were close.

Panicked, Darwin broke the seal on his eyes and looked deep into the woods in the direction of the tone which was now rumbling through the treetops blurring everything it touched. His senses heightened, knowing danger was approaching but he also experienced a moment of relief when he realized what had been staring at him was not directly behind him, at least not in physical form. In any case, he accepted the momentary reprieve on his nerves. All he had to do now was force himself to rise and begin running.

From thin air a recognizable face skidded up next to Darwin as though he had always been there. “Darwin! You have to change! Change damn it! They'll get you if you don't. I love you!” Steve quickly grabbed Darwin's face and kissed him on the lips before evaporating into mist.

“Steve! Steve!” Darwin cried seeing the last of his friend dissipate. The lips felt real and even the smell was undeniable. The message felt safe.

Looking back to the approaching tone Darwin saw Tim floating several hundred feet away combing the woods. His body was still rigid and the color had leaked from his skin leaving nothing but a ghostly gray shell. Darwin tried watching him but as Tim disappeared behind bushes he would quickly reappear closer, still raking the woods like a lawn mower.

“Tim!” Darwin shouted towards the demonic sight.

With his jaw still forced open and the undying timbre continuing to flood the forest, Tim's head rotated ninety degrees to look at Darwin. The white orbs of his eyes began to swirl like a black and white tunnel in a hypnotist's trick.

Change!

Time was up and he knew Steve had told him the truth. Looking at the ground Darwin tried to summon his monster. He began thinking about growing stronger and hairy and then he switched to an image of the moon. The normal feeling of the wolf emerging wasn't there and Darwin began to huff in panic.

“God damn it,
change!
” he yelled at himself.

Still he could feel nothing even though his blood temperature was rising. The wolf was still asleep. Again looking at the ground Darwin noticed a skid mark on the ground. Steve hadn't been an imagination, he had been there, and real enough to scrape the ground and up turn a rock. Instinctively, he grabbed the stone and placed his left hand on top of a much larger boulder protruding from the ground.

He took one last look towards Tim who was still watching Darwin and sweeping in closer. Fearing what he had to do, he braced for the pain that was about to envelop his body. In one fast and hard swing the rock smashed into the fingers, momentarily breaking some of them.

Surges of cold heat radiated outwards from the index, middle and ring fingers flooding his body. Dropping the rock he cradled his hand knowing the pain was only beginning to rev up. His three central fingers were all slightly upturned, bleeding and reddening from the damaged tissue. Looking at his hand made the immediate sensation in the aftermath go away, but it was quickly filling in with the more familiar rage that followed when one stubbed their toe on a coffee table.

Darwin remained silent with his mouth open but audibly mute, stroking his damaged appendage with his right which only further aggravated the nerves. He closed his eyes attempting to give in to the growing rage but it was like tugging on a stuck door. The lights dimmed and Darwin found himself looking down a narrow tunnel to the real world. The pain was ruling him now and the wolf had been thoroughly kicked in the balls and was slowly waking from its slumber.

Outwardly, Darwin opened his human eyes with two streams of tears rolling down his cheeks. Like a freight train running down a mountain with no brakes, sparks flying from the wheels seconds before it flew from the track. Darwin's transformation now seemed unstoppable.

The tone and Tim were now closing in on the hunched over intruder, the forest quickly smearing on all sides, but Darwin didn't notice.

The real world again came into focus and Darwin realized that his wolf was again going to sleep. He was close, he knew he would change; he should change, if it was any other time. In one final desperate act Darwin grabbed the stone and clobbered his injured hand repeatedly, further snapping the bones and dislocating the joints. His adrenaline was pumping as fast as he could produce it and the pain now rushed over his levees in volumes he had never experienced.

Swing after swing, Darwin bashed his fingers into a bloody pulp sending signals of fury to his brain.

“
Change, damn it
!” he yelled as his voice was swallowed by the tone, but his wish was granted.

The seams around his shoulders were the first to begin the retreat against his expanding frame, followed by the ones containing his thighs but Darwin kept swinging. The sound of his cartilage snapping and clothes tearing were obstructed by the vibrating sound from behind.

It was strange for Darwin, changing and being unaware of it. What existed in the woods made all the normal sensations disappear. Darwin took no notice to his growing strength, or his lengthening claws. His body felt almost numb as he continued to hit his transforming hand with the rock. It was his pants, shredding away from his waist that finally made him clue in that he was halfway though his metamorphosis.

As the Monet colors nipped at his bursting shoes, Darwin leapt up and dashed into the woods in the direction that appeared to be the way out. The forest had shifted into his animal spectrum but even as the wolf he could see the fogging that surrounded him had left only one route, and it looked to be the way he had entered.

At full speed he ran, still transforming and dropping pieces of clothing as he went. The humanistic run style quickly morphed into the more efficient four legged dash and soon Darwin was pulling away from the tone of monks, leaving Tim behind. The branches and leaves whipped by, occasionally jabbing the wolf in the eye. Aside from some minor numbing the pokes went relatively unnoticed.

Darwin the werewolf was still frightened. Nestled deep inside the warm animal his conscience still feared what he had seen and what was coming. For once, his power was inadequate. It made him feel human and that made him feel vulnerable.

After a mile of boring a path, Darwin began to recognize features in the woods. Nothing specific, a rock or a clearing, but he no longer felt as though he was in unfamiliar territory. Instinctively, the wolf slowed his pace from scared to an uneasy stroll. The breathing began to lessen and calm began to settle over the creature.

The birds chirped high in the trees and everything seemed as it should as midday approached. Control over his power returned to him as well. Inside his mind, Darwin knew where he was and what he was. He also remembered what he had to do. He considered willing himself back to human form, but only for a moment. His lycan shell was fragile but he felt safer in it.

Trudging along in the thick underbrush, the quick progress the beast had made was swiftly eroded. It was proverbial, even if at times the land seemed fictitious. Darwin wanted to run and so did his wolf, but the energy to urgently push on was gone. All the monster could do was look at the ground and push onwards, slowly swaying his head from side to side.

The ground began to feel like wet clay even though it appeared relatively dry. As his claws touched the ground it took a tremendous amount of force to lift them again. In another time or place he might have thought it was an adrenaline crash, but he was lucid enough to know he was still heightened from his transformation.

The monks and Tim were gone, and the forest seemed normal but Darwin realized his vigor was diminishing like a battery left in the freezer. All he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep but he knew if he did that, he would never wake up.

Intuition was all that guided him. The evil existing in the woods was clever. The more he considered it, the more he realized he had not escaped the phenomena; it was all around him and suckling off of his spirit.

To acknowledge it or to continue to burn strength moving away in any direction he believed might be a the only way out. He didn't want to give into irrational fear; but what about rational fear?

It took Tim instantly! If it wants me it will take me. Stop! Face it!

It may have been the only conclusion that Darwin could reach. Physically his paws were nearing immobility and his muscles ached as though he had been climbing a jagged mountain peak for days. Finally he stopped and began to revert.

The thick matting of fur began to thin, sliding back under his skin at the same time his frame began to deflate. The razor claws relaxed, popping and reshaping into his normal undamaged hands. His hind legs shrank and bubbled in small muscle spasm eruptions, normalizing with each pulse. The wolf man sneered as his teeth eased their way back into his gum line, returning his appearance to almost human with the exception of his beard which was also disappearing.