Cry of the Wolf (3 page)

“Who is this?” Chris asks.

“It’s him,” Michelle softly says with fear in
her voice. “He’s it.”

“Are you sure, Miki?” Sandy asks as Michelle
stares at the picture.

“Yes, positive, Sandra,” Michelle says as she
tries to regain her composure. “He was near last night. I heard his
thoughts, but did not see him. Only through memories did I glimpse
his face.”

“I was afraid it was him,” Devon says with a
sad look on his face as Kelly clutches tightly at his side.

“What do you mean?” Brandon asks. “How
dangerous is he?”

“Very dangerous. He’s torn apart two of my
best.” Devon starts to explain. “We tried to stop Mickey, due to
our connection with him. However, that did not happen. Szin’s
agents have swayed him.”

“Why didn’t you call us in sooner?” Brandon
asks.

“Didn’t know how,” Devon replies. “But I met
a young man named Remy Boudrot through my dad’s business
associates.”

“Remy Boudrot? The PIA Agent?”

“Didn’t know that at the time,” Devon
remarks. “He said that he had a contact in Elmwood Ranch who could
dispatch a team right away.”

“And he did,” Chris said. “We met up with
Remy yesterday to get the details on the case which were sparse at
best.”

“That wasn’t Remy.” Devon says somberly. “The
same day he sent the message off, he was killed. You met one of
Szin’s agents. That is why we staked out the back of the hotel
you’re staying at as a form of protection.”

“But why Mickey, Devon? Why would Szin use
somebody like him? There’s nothing special about him.” I say
aloud.

“That’s not true,” Kelly states sadly. “He
was our friend and Devon’s best man when we wed last year. But I
noticed a change in him after our return from our honeymoon.”

“Oh? You never told me that,” Devon says
looking over at his wife with a furrowed brow.

“I didn’t think anything of it at the time,”
Kelly replies. “Thought it was because of his jealousy, for us
being together. But that was before the disappearances, the
killings.”

“What do you mean?” Brandon quizzically
asks.

“A few months later, prominent business men
began disappearing from town, even those that were visiting from
out of town.”

“Was there any connection?” my brother calmly
asks.

“That’s easy, me,” Devon replies as he taps
his chest. “I wish it weren’t so. But Szin took my rejection rather
personally. So he found my best friend downtrodden and twisted him
into a killing machine, a mutated werewolf with immense strength
and power.”

“So how do you expect us to help?” I ask
rather rudely.
I am ashamed of my attitude towards Devon. Oh,
man, he must feel horrible.

“That’s where you come in,” he says calmly as
he brushes off my rudeness. “You are here to stop this insane
beast. However, it is still days before he’ll start another killing
spree. He seems to prefer to kill the night of the full moon, even
when has no need to do so.”

“Then, we have a lot of planning to do.”
Brandon says.

“Yes, we do.” Kelly says.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013, 9:45 AM

CHRIS dresses in a suit and tie as I dress in
a ladies business suit. I look over him and I am in awe. Do my eyes
deceive me or does he just look scrumptious in that dark blue three
piece suit with silver pin striping and shiny black Bostonian
shoes? His usually tussled blond hair is slicked back. Chris wears
a crisp clean white button down shirt underneath. His tie is dark
blue with silver diagonal stripes. The tie clasp he wears is
sterling silver and almost matches the color of the striping.

My suit is a little more reserved, and
drafty.
I hate wearing skirts.
My suit is tan on the slim
fit jacket and pleated skirt. I, also, am wearing a button down
white shirt underneath. My lapel pin is that of an angel made of
gold plating and sterling silver. I am wearing nude pantyhose, as
well, with some nearly flat tan pumps.

“Ready?” I ask him as I size up my preppy
looking hubby.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Chris says with
anxiety and nervousness in his voice. Brandon, then, walks into the
room and stops in front of Chris pinning something to his
jacket.

“This’ll help us keep track of you.” he tells
Chris.

“Okay?” Chris says warily with furrowed brow.
The pin, attached to the jacket lapel, is in the shape of a
cross.

“It’s a tracking device, Chris,” Brandon
succinctly states. “Hopefully nothing happens, but just in
case.”

“In case what,” I snark at my big
brother.

“In case I am snatched, Des,” I am told
somberly by Chris.

“Oh.”

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later, we head out across town
towards Harrison and Son, a local general store with some very
unusual items to boot. A few minutes later, we pull up to the
store. From the outside, Harrison and Son looks like your local
feed store with the large Purina logo, grey wooden storefront, a
large porch with rockers, etc. There are even old and new pickup
trucks in front of the store.

We get out of the car and walk towards the
front sliding glass doors. I walk into the store with Chris. We are
going in together as a married couple, a stretch for us, named
Susie and Marty Barron. We’re here on business to acquire some
rather unique items for our shop in Autumn, Texas.

“Wow,” I mention as we walk in through the
front door. “I’ve never been in a general store before.”

The general store is huge, larger than the
outside makes it look. There are aisles upon aisles of different
types of feed for animals, seeds, parts for farm equipment,
groceries, etc. A young skinny gentleman, in a red apron with the
Purina logo and the name Harrison and Son General Store embroidered
upon it, walks up to us.

“Welcome to Harrison and Son General Store,”
he enthusiastically says. His white name tag read Paul. “How can I
help you today?”

“Yes, Paul, is it?” Chris says with
eloquence.

The clerk nods his head yes.

“We have a 10:30 meeting with a,” he, then,
turns to me. “What was his name, my dear?”

“Devon, Devon Harrison, I believe.” I reply
with an air of superiority.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Devon Harrison.” He relays to
the clerk.

Paul gulps in complete nervousness. He, then,
regain his composure. The red headed, freckled clerk motions for us
to follow.

“Right this way,” Paul says as his voice
squeaks. He, then, begins to lead us from the front of the store.
This gentleman could not be much older than I, and a farm boy at
that. He wears a blue plaid shirt and distressed blue jeans.

Paul tells us about the products on the
shelves as he leads us through the animal feed, past the young
men’s clothing, towards the back near the exotic items department.
Items in the exotic items department include wolfsbane, hervaine,
silver tipped bullets, voodoo dolls, and potion ingredients, just
to name some of the items here.

As Chris and I look around, we feel as though
eyes were watching us. And the security cameras here are not your
run-of-the-mill normal security cameras, but something more
mystical, strange, creepy which send shivers down my spine.

“Chris,” I mutter.

“Yeah, Des?” he whispers back.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Like what?” he asks grabbing my hand.

“I just felt shiver go down my spine,” I say
as I see Devon emerge from the back. “Ah, there’s Devon.”

“Welcome to Harrison and Son. How can help
you… what did you say your names were?”

“We didn’t” Chris says coldly trying to stay
in character.

“Yes, Mr. Harrison,” I say coldly as I try to
hold in the laughter. “We heard that you have some rather unique
items for sale that are rather unobtainable elsewhere.”

“So true, Ms. …?”

“Barron, Susie Barron.” I say rather
brashly.

“And I am Marty Barron.” Chris says as he
follows my lead.

“Mr. and Mrs. Barron,” Devon begins to say as
I lightly point towards the ceiling. He sees what I spotted two
minutes ago, a small person on the catwalk above us.

How? He mouthed with a stunned look on his
face.

I point to the temple with my index finger
and mouthed one word the cleared it up completely.

Michelle.

11 AM

AS WE both look up at the catwalk, Chris and
I spot the small person morphing into a monstrous creature. In
mid-morph the small person leaps over the railing of the catwalk
down towards us. Her clothes come off shredded and fall towards us
in small strips.

Devon, quickly, scoots away. He does not want
to reveal his secret to a bunch of already scared patrons rushing
towards the exits.

“Chris, Destiny, this way,” Devon says
rushing towards the two doors leading to the stock room.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Chris shouts
back as he grabs my hand. I don’t budge. “Come on, Destiny.”

“Go, Chris!” I shout at him. “I will handle
this.”

“Will you be alright?” he says as Devon
motions to for us to follow. My skin begins to glow a bright
white.

“I’ll be fine,” I melodically shout as a
blade of light forms in my right hand. As I hold onto the light, it
begins to meld into the shape of a sword. The hilt guard is
octagonal and gold with a single thin blade extended eight inches.
The grip of the hilt, in which more of the blade is inlaid, is
covered with deep purple chords adorned with diamond shaped beads
on each side of the oblong grip.

The she-devil beast descends rapidly towards
me as she completes the morphing process. I ready myself for the
attack. The young beast lands with a loud thud as I jump backwards.
She is much bigger than I first thought.

I look over the beast as she huffs and puffs.
The beast has light tan fur and is taller than me by nearly two
feet easy. I stare up at the snarling she-beast. The golden eyes
look at me with contempt and disdain. Saliva drips from the
she-beast’s mouth.

She extends the claws in her hands.
Oh
dear, those claws are definitely looking sharp, all right.
The
she-beast charges right at me with claws spread out from her
body.

I steady the angelic katana which appeared in
my hands moments ago. Before I can even prepare myself, I am using
the blade to ward off an uppercut strike.

Her claws clash with the blade and I stumble
backwards as I try to keep my balance.
What did I get myself
into?

She strikes with another uppercut from the
opposite side. Once again, I use the blade to thwart the attack.
But what was unexpected was the result. I am sent high into the air
dropping my blade in the process. I crash into steel shelves on the
far wall knocking many potion ingredients onto the ground.

“Uh,” I moan as my head feels as though a
jackhammer was used upon it. Then, I see a bright flash as the
she-beast comes down upon my rather limp body.

That’s when I hear what sounds like a bug
getting zapped. I look up to see a fuzzy tan thing reeling in pain.
I assume this is the she-beast since I cannot see very well. I do
hear the beast roar in pain as several more zaps are taken by her
before she decides to turn tail and run away.

Chris, I think, then, runs over to my side. I
can hear him alright as he tries to ascertain my well being. But
everything is still blurry and hazy that I am unable to
respond.

I feel two sets of arms lifting me to my
feet. One is talking to me on my right, Chris. The other, I assume
is Devon. Slowly, the three of us make our way to the back of the
General Store.

We continue on for several feet before I
faintly hear Devon, I think, telling Chris to turn into his office
off to the left. I am partially drug into the office by my hubby.
Then, with Devon’s help they sit me down upon the couch just inside
the doorway. The pain overtakes me and I pass out.

11:30 AM, 2 Years Later…

I LAY there for what seems to be an eternity.
I awaken in what looks like a king sized four post bed. I am
covered with a light tan and blue comforter in square patterns
intersecting one or another. There is a long dresser across the
room from the bed. The dresser is made of oak, painted white, and
adorned with brass ornate leaf-like handles. There are, also, six
drawers with two mirrors hanging on the wall just above the dresser
itself. The mirrors are trimmed in the same colored oak as the
dresser.

The door on the far right side of the room
opens and Christopher, with a scar on his right cheek walks in. He
has a sandy blonde goatee as well.
Well, that’s new.
I moan
in pain.

He moves a little faster over to me as he
carries a tray of food. The plate is covered and the cup has a lid
upon it with a straw through the lid. He sets the tray in my lap as
I position myself, struggling to sit up.

What the hell?

I see sadness in his eyes. I look at him with
great concern.

“It’s okay, Des,” he says as he helps me sit
up. “You couldn’t have foreseen it.”

“What are you talking about, Chris?” I ask
not knowing what’s going on.

“I’m talking about you becoming
paralyzed.”

Paralyzed?
I sat there stunned.
This cannot be happening. It can’t be real.

Oh, my dear, but it can be.
I hear in
my head. Instantly, I recognize the voice.

Szin, you condescending jerk. What are you
up to now?

Surrender yourself to me, my dear. It is
your destiny, Ms. Phoenix.
And, then, I hear him cackle.

Tears run down my eyes.

“Des, what’s wrong?” he asks with love and
understanding.