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Poetry/Short Stories

by WolfCrazy

I returned home after finally finishing my studies at school. My father had called informing me of my brother's untimely death and that I would have to assume responsibility of the family estate. My mother had died during my birth. So I grew up around a family of all men, it wasn't always an easy environment. I always had trouble adapting to the "upper class" lifestyle. When I told my father I wanted to go to school in Europe he was less than ecstatic. Though with a little arguing and a few well placed from my brother who always looked upon me with better favor than my father did. So when my father had written and said my brother had been killed I knew it was time to come home.

I caught the first plane back to the states and was greeted by Harold our shopher at the airport. I wasn't surprised that my father hadn't come. Even though it took the death of my brother to make me return home, he still wouldn't give me the pleasure of open arms and a big hug. I remained quiet through most of the trip to the house, though an occasional word from Harold's mouth made me want to comment here and there. Soon we rounded a corner and I could see the house in plain view. It looked the same and yet it didn't. It seemed to have grown darker, could it be that my father's sullen mood had affected the appearance of the house? I doubt it, probably just my subconscious announcing how displeased it was to be home.

We pulled up to the front door and I quickly noticed the sound of dogs barking. This was odd because I knew for a fact that my father had always loathed the idea of owning a dog and wouldn't change his mind no matter how many times I begged. Could it be that he had changed a little? Things looked up. I went through the front door and stopped to see if the house had changed at all. Nothing seemed different, actually if you could imagine an old style mansion then that would be our house. I believe the architecture is called Victorian. Harold came in a minute later with my suitcase and informed me that my father was up in the library.

Story continued below


I inhaled a long breath and made my way up he stairs. At the top I turned left and walked down the hall lined with old portraits of our ancestors. I could still remember my father giving lectures on each the Rebholz men. Oh yes, that's my last name, Rebholz. I reached the door to the library and took one more long breath before entering. I opened the door and went on to my future. My father was sitting at his desk off to the left of the door. There top of the desk was hidden beneath a litter of papers. My father looked up at me and stared for a moment before saying a word.

"Hello Ray." He said in a very dry tone. "Hello father." "I'm glad you could find time in your busy schedule to come home and pay your respects, Lord knows you wouldn't come home for any other reason." "I didn't come home to listen to you berate me about my life. I could listen to you do that over the phone. I loved my brother and I miss him dearly. But I don't feel up to arguing with you about old problems. I am going to my room now." "Before you go I want you to know that since Chris is dead and no longer he first in line to get the estate I am giving it to you. This means you will have to remain here after the funeral." I knew he was going to do this, any way he can find to make my life miserable he will do it. I stared at him for a second then exited the room. After I did that everything I wanted to say came into my head. Though if I went back now it would turn into an argument and that is not what I wanted to do. I was home for my brother, not to revisit old wounds. I spent the next few hours in my room unpacking and thinking about Chris. He always had time for me, always ready to lend an ear. Now that he was gone I didn't know if I could handle being here.

Though I knew that if he were here he would tell me to suck it up and learn to deal with it. He would say I couldn't keep running from every little problem I had with father. So if he wants me to take over the estate then I'll do that. But I am going to run it my own way. Besides, I am done with school and it wasn't though I had a steady job while I was there. Maybe I will go back someday, but for now I will take care of this. That night I went to bed soon after I ate, I was tired from my flight and couldn't stand listening to my father much longer. I awoke the next morning to the sound of the dogs again. As I lay there I realized that when I was a child there were always dogs barking near our house.

I hadn't heard it in so long that I had actually forgotten about it. Maybe that's why father never wanted a dog, because he couldn't stand the sound of the dogs so why would he want one directly in the house? Well no matter, perhaps while I am home I will find out where they are coming from. But the funeral is today and I must prepare for that. So I got dressed and went on down to the main floor where I me with my father who was ready and had been waiting for me. We went out and got into the car and Harold took us on down the small hill towards the town. There were actually many people at the funeral, I was surprised because father never much had guests at the house nor did he socialize in town much. Though there were a great deal of young girls moaning quite loudly. I was not surprised because Chris was usually a hit with the girls.

Afterwards we both left and went back to the house. Father said he didn't want to stand around and talk to the "gossip mongers." The rest of the day passed slowly, I tried to think about other things but I kept focusing on Chris. I felt as though I was trapped in some giant prison in which I could walk about freely but couldn't get out of. It was very frustrating. Around six o'clock my father knocked on my door and told me come to the library with him. I had funny feeling this was the part where he tells me what my responsibilities were now that the estate was mine. I was wrong. I sat myself down at the chair closest to his desk and watched as he stood facing the shelves for a moment. I was about to ask him "Now what?" when he started to talk.

" Well I am sure you're thinking I am going to talk to you about what your responsible to do now that the estate is yours, but your wrong. I want to tell you what really happened to Chris and tell you what you're really inheriting. You and I have never been close but that's mostly my fault. I resented you and Chris because you were both nothing like me. You both were like our ancestors who decorate our hall. For some reason I was the only one who was different from all of you. When Chris was born I knew what he was from the moment I saw him. I hated him for it, but when I found out that your mother was pregnant again it gave me some hope of having a son that was like me.

"I just wanted this feeling of being alone to go away. But then when you were born and obviously like your brother, I knew then that I would never have any more children that could be like me. Since Chris was the oldest I decided to put all my energy into his upbringing. I resented you because you were the final proof that I would keep having children that wouldn't be like me. I'm sorry for that, because now I don't know you at all and it's my fault." This was it, I knew he had finally gone nuts, Chris' death was the final straw. I needed to get out of this room and away from this man.

"Your brother was always reckless, chasing all those girls everywhere. You saw them at the funeral today. He wasn't careful. That's what cost him his life. He knew what he was and that I wasn't like at an early age. Once he knew what he was, he knew that you were like him too. That's why he treated you so nicely. He wasn't alone like I was." "Father what the hell are you talking about? What was Chris, what am I?" He finally turned his head away from the bookshelf and looked at me. He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity and then finally uttered these words:
"You, like Chris, are a werewolf."

My mouth must have hit the floor because it felt like a giant weight had just dragged it open. I couldn't seem to find the will to speak. Nothing came to mind I had no clue how to respond to such a statement. What scared me the most was the way he stared at me. He truly believed what he had just said. When I finally began to gather my thoughts I realized I should keep him talking so I could devise a way to subdue him.

"You said that Chris had died some other way than what you had told me on the phone. Please explain this to me?" "Chris liked to go out and hunt during the night hours, he liked the old legends of werewolves old coming out during a full moon. So he would only go out during those nights. Well eventually the town caught on and realized what was killing their livestock. Chris became more and more reckless as time passed. He didn't fear the townspeople or what they might do. The last night he was alive he had invaded a farmer's house and started killing the family. He was nearing the master bedroom when the farmer who was hiding on the other side of the door blew a hole with his shotgun, right through the door. Chris was hit in the stomach, but was able to escape. He hadn't even gotten near the house when he finally collapsed and died. I told the town the next day that Chris had seen the monster in the woods and gone after it but never returned.

"They all gave their condolences, saying that Chris was a brave man and always a joy to the town. I don't know why they believed me but they did and I was actually happy they did, because it meant they wouldn't hunt me down like they would have Chris. I doubt you have tapped into your wolf yet, but you will. Then you can take over the estate from me."

At this I finally stood and looked him directly in the eye calling a mad man. I turned walked to the door. My father shouted for me to stop but I didn't and I left the house, heading directly for town. I went to Chris' grave and stood there for a while. I thought about everything my father had said and wondered where he had come up with such an idea. Eventually I looked up and realized the sun had set. I thought it best to return home before it gets too late. As I walked the down the main street that led to the road which went up to my house I, I heard some footsteps behind me.

I didn't take much notice for this town wasn't much for violence. Though I lifted my nose a little and sniffed the air. I could detect a certain stench in the air it was alcohol. As I began to slow down I was grabbed by several hands and thrown into an alley. I stumbled a few feet and turned myself around to see three young men standing with a slight slant to their posture. I started to say something when the one on the left walked right up to me and threw his fist into my stomach. I fell to my knees holding my arms around my belly when a foot landing in my side. This knocked me onto the ground and that's when I felt all three of them around me. One of them held my arms, while the other held my legs. The third reached into my slacks and fumbled to get my wallet out. I struggled the whole time, trying to loosen their grip on me. The increasing failure of my struggling led to my frustration, which led to my anger that led to my transformation. It started in my hands and felt like the inner core of the sun. I howled in pain and rage, I pulled my arms towards me and in doing so ripped the arms from his sockets.

I hit the round; the shock of seeing this made the individual holding my legs drop them. I was quickly back on my feet and crashed straight into the man who was now screaming for God. I tore right through his shirt, directly into his chest, which exposed his rib cage. I punched a hole through that and pulled out his heart. I turned around and grabbed " no arms" by the neck. I squeezed with all my strength crushing the bones within. Just before this the third man who had grabbed my wallet had started running.

I howled my excitement and took off after him. I followed his disgusting scent, which led me past the last few houses and up the path towards my house. He hadn't gotten that far up it before I reached him. I smashed into his back and pushed him down onto the ground. I stood on all fours directly over him. I turned his quivering body over and stared right into his small green eyes. I howled out a great triumphant song and then tore out his throat. I stood up onto my hind legs, blood dripping from fangs, strength coursing through my body.

I licked back the blood from my mouth and felt my body go limp. I was changing back, calming down; all the new sensations seemed to fade away. Becoming human again wasn't as painful as going the other way. I stood there a moment, completely naked, wondering how I had gone through life being human. This new form was so exhilarating. I felt such a connection to everything around me. I bent down picked up my wallet and headed up towards the house. That night I spoke with my father and he explained the rest of the family history to me.

Our family had always lived in this house, all of our ancestors and all of our future generations will. For some reason father, out of all of our ancestors, was born without the ability to change. His father had hated him for that and so they were both estranged while he grew up. When he married he had hoped to have a son like him so he wouldn't feel so out of place. He died a few months after I had discovered my gift. When the time is right I will find a mate and have children, they will most likely have the gift. I will teach them well. I know now who I am and what I must do. I won't be as reckless as Chris nor as unkind as my father won't. It is my time now and I have many nights ahead of me.