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He built a little fire out of moss, or something that looked like moss. It smelled nice, like ambergris and musk, tinged with an unknown green scent that had a certain narcotic quality. The young ones fell asleep. His females quietly retreated back into the shadows and watched. There were other males in the lodge, but they were obviously betas, furtive beasts, just as imposing as their leader, though of quite different dispositions.... Three males... Two females... Maybe five or six children. All with the same gray pelts.
The human female, the one called Shimmy Kate, studied them, as she sat hunched against the rough, thatch, igloo-like wall. A surreal scene, as might have played out in paleolithic times, save all of the tribesmen were werewolves.
Their prisoner/guest stared at the tiny fire, seemingly hypnotized by the orange glow. And the 'king' studied her. She was right. He knew it. She was right. All was quiet. One or two of the young ones stirred as they slept, but that was it. And then the 'king' began to speak. He sat where he was and he spoke.
He said - We have souls. We have hearts. We know pain. Think not that we are monsters. Fear not for your life. Are you scared?...... The one called Shimmy Kate shook her head, for she was not scared. Perhaps it was the slowly burning narcotic herb, or maybe just the quiet peace about her, but she was not. He nodded and went on - They came from a different place and they changed us, taking essence of man and essence of beast. And we are still a new thing, for that was only ten generations past. Frenchman we were and Creoles and Spaniards.... those you call 'Indians' too. The settlement on the river was new then, filled with long, low dwellings and shuttered windows to keep out the heat. Dark skinned captives from a strange, exotic place spoke of 'old gods,' and so we learned the voo-doo. Spirits, rather curious spirits came to watch. They sailed in ghostly orbs... in ships made of light. We asked questions. Occasionally they answered. But we were clay to them, the same as Adam and so they made new things. Don't ask me how they did it. Such alchemy I do not know. They took different things, alien things. They worked miracles. And mothers brought forth wolflings. And she-wolves brought forth men..... One of the females began to moan and keen, obviously remembering an old sadness. He crawled over to comfort her and she kissed him. Shimmy Kate found her voice and said - Please, I want to leave.... Her host said - And how will you elude the bloodhounds? They who have guns lead them and they already come this way....... H-how do you know that? - she asked. The wolfman simply sniffed the air and smiled.
They left with the first light of dawn, silently snaking through the bayou toward another place, deep within a cave, beyond a little hidden waterfall, where trackers could not find them. And Shimmy Kate went with them, a lost, skinny white girl amid a stream of gray.
Breeding stock. That's what she was. Breeding stock. But she didn't know that yet...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
find more of this and other stories too. click on ~>PARANORMAL TALES ... join me on Twitter. click on ~> @wilkravitz ... please leave a COMMENT. thank you.
The human female, the one called Shimmy Kate, studied them, as she sat hunched against the rough, thatch, igloo-like wall. A surreal scene, as might have played out in paleolithic times, save all of the tribesmen were werewolves.
Their prisoner/guest stared at the tiny fire, seemingly hypnotized by the orange glow. And the 'king' studied her. She was right. He knew it. She was right. All was quiet. One or two of the young ones stirred as they slept, but that was it. And then the 'king' began to speak. He sat where he was and he spoke.
He said - We have souls. We have hearts. We know pain. Think not that we are monsters. Fear not for your life. Are you scared?...... The one called Shimmy Kate shook her head, for she was not scared. Perhaps it was the slowly burning narcotic herb, or maybe just the quiet peace about her, but she was not. He nodded and went on - They came from a different place and they changed us, taking essence of man and essence of beast. And we are still a new thing, for that was only ten generations past. Frenchman we were and Creoles and Spaniards.... those you call 'Indians' too. The settlement on the river was new then, filled with long, low dwellings and shuttered windows to keep out the heat. Dark skinned captives from a strange, exotic place spoke of 'old gods,' and so we learned the voo-doo. Spirits, rather curious spirits came to watch. They sailed in ghostly orbs... in ships made of light. We asked questions. Occasionally they answered. But we were clay to them, the same as Adam and so they made new things. Don't ask me how they did it. Such alchemy I do not know. They took different things, alien things. They worked miracles. And mothers brought forth wolflings. And she-wolves brought forth men..... One of the females began to moan and keen, obviously remembering an old sadness. He crawled over to comfort her and she kissed him. Shimmy Kate found her voice and said - Please, I want to leave.... Her host said - And how will you elude the bloodhounds? They who have guns lead them and they already come this way....... H-how do you know that? - she asked. The wolfman simply sniffed the air and smiled.
They left with the first light of dawn, silently snaking through the bayou toward another place, deep within a cave, beyond a little hidden waterfall, where trackers could not find them. And Shimmy Kate went with them, a lost, skinny white girl amid a stream of gray.
Breeding stock. That's what she was. Breeding stock. But she didn't know that yet...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
find more of this and other stories too. click on ~>PARANORMAL TALES ... join me on Twitter. click on ~> @wilkravitz ... please leave a COMMENT. thank you.
