That was a bad mistake. I realized how bad it was when I found the tranquilizer dart in my butt.
I awoke to found myself tied tightly to a chair. A single bare light bulb dangling over my head that cast ragged, ugly shadows about the room. Sitting directly in front of me was a bearded, fat man in a dark suit. He sat silently, smoking a cigarette. He stared at me as if I was bug under a microscope. Two men, one to each side of him, stood at attention holding military assault rifles.
I recognized him from the description that Papa gave me; it was the Reverend Jim Bob Biggs, self-styled demon hunter. I was in deep, deep shit.
He stood up, walked over, and reached out to slowly crush out the cigarette on my cheek. The pain! Be calm, concentrate, ignore the smell. Flesh is a servant, flesh is a tool, flesh does what it is told. I made no sound.
"I am a soldier in the service of the Lord."
"You're a killer," I said with contempt.
"Soldiers kill in a just cause," he said lighting up another cigarette. However, I have been less than satisfied with my campaign against your kind."
"You haven't killed enough of us yet?" I snarled. In response to my impudence, he again crushed out a cigarette on my face.
"For a soldier to be successful, he must have as much information about his enemy as possible. I've had your community under surveillance for some time, looking for a special opportunity; the opportunity to snatch a cub like you for, interrogation."
"You think because I am a kid I'm more likely to spill my guts."
"Exactly. This is the deal. You tell me what I want to know, and I will set you free. Lie to me, and you will die by slow torture," he said as he brought another cigarette towards my face.
"I'll talk! but you're not going to like it."
"There is a difference between telling the truth and telling you what you want to know. You think that we are a cult, that we worship the devil and practice human sacrifice."
"Isn't that how werewolves gain their power to change from men into wolves?"
"No, we are born this way. Like most humans you have it reversed. We are not men who change into wolves; the lupine form is our natural state. Besides, I don't think we look a thing like a wolf, but more like very large greyhounds with long legs, large brains and opposable thumbs. And while we are quite agile on all fours, we are bipeds just like you."
"What nonsense is this," he snarled and started to burn me again.
"Reverend! You have to put all that occult crap out of you head," I said struggling against my bonds.
"Be still cub, my men have silver bullets in their rifles."
"God damn it man it doesn't make any difference if the bullets are silver, copper, gold or lead. I am not something supernatural; I am flesh and blood. Any kind of bullet will kill me."
"Boys, go wait outside." The two men obediently left the room. "See, I am a fair man. I could tell that my soldiers scared you so I have sent them out. Now there's only you and me. Talk to me."
"Listen," I said catching my breath and trying to hold my fear. "It would help if you think of us as ship wreaked sailors."
"Fascinating," he said scratching his neck. "You're saying that you came here in a ship from the old world?"
"In a way, yes."
"What happened, did you ship go down in a storm?"
"No, the hyperspace jump engines exploded."
"The. . .what?"
"Hyperspace jump engines. Those are standard equipment on interstellar exploration vessels." The Reverend gave me a blank look. "Space ships. I didn't lie when I said we came from the old world, I just didn't mean this one."
"You're telling me you are an alien from outer space?!"
"I'm not an alien from outer space; I was born in Waco, Texas. However, my great, great grandfather was from the home world. The ship came down in the general area of New York city."
"I find that hard to believe. Why are there no newspaper accounts of such an occurrence happening? Something like that would be hard to miss."
"That's probably because the printing press had not been invented."
"That would have been around the time of the Civil War and there were plenty of printing presses around."
"No, the crash happened during the middle ages." The Reverend looked at me incredulously. "We are a rather long lived race."
"This is all bullshit! You just happen to be able to turn into human beings!"
"Not just human but any type of life form. We are perfect mimics."
"So you're saying that every thing I think I know about werewolves is wrong?"
"No, there's one thing you know about us that's true. If we bite a human, he or she, becomes one of us."
"I suppose you have a rational scientific explanation for that also," he said sarcastically.
"Of course I do. We were a highly advanced, technological people. The crew of our space ship were all members of an extended family group, but a species can only tolerate so much inbreeding before it gets into trouble. They devised a symbiotic virus that would stay in their system to pass on from one generation to another. When the virus entered the bloodstream of the selected aboriginal person, it would immediately begin to resequence their DNA along our lines. I'm speaking from experience here."
"I'm adopted. It was winter and the roads were icy. The car lost control, slid over an embankment, and my parents-my biological parents-were both killed. Papa dug me out of the wreckage and took me home with him. At least that is what Papa told me. I was too young to remember any of it."
"And you believed this story?"
"Papa has his faults but he's not a liar"
"Oh Lord, an innocent human child has been recruited and corrupted by the powers of darkness! I'm almost sorry I have to kill you."
"You haven't believed a word I said."
"You can't help but believe all the lies you have been told. You were raised in the presence of evil. None of this is your fault, and I am a fair man. Boys come back in here!" His two thugs promptly reentered the room. "I promise you will die quickly. Shoot him, John".
"I don't think so," one man replied. "I am, however, going to ground his ass for a month for being so careless." The man smiled-dare I say-wolfishly at the Reverend.
"Papa, is that you?".
"Don't be silly," he replied.
"John?" the Reverend said, with fear in his voice.
"You should have paid more attention to my son, Reverend. He was being truthful when he told you that we are perfect mimics."
"I don't understand,' said the Reverend.
"Your men were relieved of guard duty. I hope you learned a lesson, son. I wanted to tell you before you ran out the house, that the Reverend was seen in our neighborhood. Even so, you should have spotted him following you. Carelessness can get you killed."
"Yes, Papa," I answered contritely.
"Kill them both, David," the Reverend screamed at the second man.
"You really should have listened to our son," answered the second man as he came over to untie me. "And you really shouldn't have tortured him."
I'll be damned, I thought. The second man is Mama. I had never seen her put on a male form before. She was good. She was also pissed.
"What a day," said Papa as he took off his clothes.
"All this and you missed baseball practice too."
"No big deal," I said.
"Considering how low your batting average is, I don't agree."
Then he turned toward the Reverend and began to change.
"You see, Reverend," I said. We don't look anything like a wolf.
Copyright 1997 by Dennis Tallent
You can e-mail Dennis at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Dennis Tallent is a native son of the state of Texas; the direct desendent of an officer of the Texas Revolutionary Army. He is an active member of MENSA, The Libertarian Party and Tebala Shrine Temple. At the moment he is a nursing student at Northern Illinois University in Dekalb, Illinois.
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