FicWad

A/N: Okay, so if you're expecting an actual songfic for Halloween, I'm sorry to disappoint you. No...just to shake things up a little, I decided to make this one a completely freestyle one just to see how it felt. Enjoy!


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Eighteen: Halloween Special
Puppet: Olivia Rokit


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The whirling winds on that cold October evening did not bother me as it kicked up dust devils, leaves clattering over the dark abandoned street. Sullen, bruised clouds obstructed the stars and moon which, had it been visible, would've been a mere sliver of silver in an otherwise velvet black sky, from view. The overpowering smell of dust and grime made me sneeze, and I could only guess that it was coming from inside the tall, foreboding, long-since empty houses slouching down either side of the road. Many of them had broken windows and faded, peeling paint. Some had their doors hanging halfway on creaking hinges, open and inviting to a hobo seeking shelter from the cold despite the tattered police tape warning against trespassers. All had overgrown lawns, full of weeds and other unpleasant plants that had not been removed.

What a perfect place for Halloween night.

I'd found this place quite some time ago. I hadn't known my way around the tiny township of Cranford just yet and had ventured onto this dead end street while trying to find my way home. How strange it was to come upon something like this. It was almost as if it were a backdrop for an old horror movie, only it had obviously been real at one point. Later I learned that everyone was spooked by the place, but nobody would tell me why.

I wondered what terrible thing had happened there.

Being the curious sort, I came back a second time. And a third. And a fourth, until eventually it became one of my favorite places to come. By the seventh visit I had enough courage to venture into one of the houses. I knew I probably should've been afraid of the rapists or murderers that might be hiding inside, or that a policeman may show up and give me a hefty reminder of the warning signs, but I wasn't.

The homes, made of neither solid wood nor bricks, were just as bleak inside as they were outside. Cobwebs clung here and there and sometimes their hungry architects could be seen, resting in the far corner, waiting patiently for their food to come to them. Dirt and leaves from the outside scattered the ratty carpet rather than the usual wood that one may have expected, and bare, rotting walls and ceilings creaked in protest should one place too much pressure on them. Most of the furniture had either been taken with the owners wherever they had gone or stolen by a desperate loner, but the few couches, chairs, and even tables that had been left behind had at least an inch of dust on their surfaces.

I wondered why the people had had to leave in such a hurry.

Kevin hated it when I went there. He was worried I may run into someone or something that I couldn't handle and that I'd get hurt, but every time he tried to make a fuss I managed to assure him that as long as I brought a flashlight and kept a baseball bat in my trunk, I would be perfectly safe.

What he didn't know was that he had it backwards. Those rapists and murderers should've been afraid of me, not the other way around.

I smiled, soft, lightly whiskered lips pulling back to reveal fangs that, had the moon been out, would've glittered white and deadly. I lifted my head and slowly rose to my paws – yes, paws – so I could take one last quick look around. Ears cupped forward, leathery nose trembling gently as I drank in the less noticeable scent of old blood, I emerged from the tall grass.

There was something about the lupine family that had always interested me. They were the very symbols of the wild, of freedom, of raw power and nobility. Their muscles were so powerfully lean underneath their tough skin and sleek coats, their faces so calm and serene at even the wildest times in their lives. Their eyes were so piercing and commanding, while at the same time gleamed with a quietude that human beings simply did not possess.

They were such strong creatures, braving the cold, unforgiving climate that oft times cursed the forests they chose to live in. They were able and willing to make peace amongst themselves for the good of the pack, hunting and fighting as one so that not only themselves but their brother, too, could live another day with some food in his belly and a place to sleep.

If only humans were like that.

My blunt claws made gentle clicking noises as I started down the cracked street at a crooked, stumbling pace. I was still quite used to walking about on two legs, making it difficult to adjust to four so quickly after making the change. Likewise, it took me a moment to remember that I could use my tail as a bit of a balancing tool, at least until I got used to walking on all fours again.

There. Gradually my pawsteps became lighter and more confident, seeing quite well through the dark. That was much better.

If one asked me how I had come to discover my strange ability, I couldn't have told them because I wasn't even quite sure myself. I don't recall ever being able to see a wolf's face peering back at me in the mirror before I started visiting this eerie, curiosity-peaking place.

I wasn't even sure what triggered it, actually. All I could figure was that there was something in the air, in the dust, in the very soul of the street that brought out the beast in me. And even then, I didn't feel the overpowering thirst for blood or flesh that were always mentioned in stories of lycanthropy, nor did I suddenly see small children as my next snack. My human friends still meant something to me.

And it was lonely enough anyway, not knowing what to do with this secret. So badly I wanted to tell someone how amazing it was to be able to hear, smell, taste, and hear everything about five or six times better than I could while I was human. I wanted to tell someone about the strong sense of freedom and independence that came with being a wild animal.

I wanted someone to share this with, but I was no vampire; I couldn't just bite someone and turn them into something like me. I wasn't sure I wanted to. How could anyone accept the idea that I led a bit of a double life as a wolf prowling the urban forest of New Jersey?

Every time I thought about telling someone, I couldn't help but think of all the case recordings of werewolves I'd read about on the Internet after my third transformation. In olden times, those who claimed to be werewolves were burned at the stake for their participation in witchcraft. Granted, I didn't even believe in magic or any of that other shit, much less use it on myself...but how could I explain that to anyone?

Would they try and punish me for it?

And if Kevin found out...

The very idea of it made my chest ache with lonesomeness. Kevin, my good little Christian boy, would surely think me as some sort of demonic being should he find out. He would abandon me. His God, which was coincidentally my own as well, demanded it.

Subconsciously my ears flicked down to press against my skull, my eyes venturing toward the ground just inches in front of my slowly ambling paws. It was so strange, seeing the earth beneath my feet from high up one minute, then being so close to the ground and looking at the thick, somewhat blocky mitts the next. It was odd, being able to control the movement of my ears to the point where I could almost swivel them about with relative ease.

Another cold wind whispered past, ruffling my fur but not penetrating its warmth. Suddenly, a light growling reached my sensitive ears and they pricked high atop my head.

Was that the sound of a car engine?

I glanced over my shoulder at my own ride to make sure no one was trying to steal it. It was parked in front of the last house at the end; I'd tossed a dark tarp over it to make it's bright yellow paint harder to see should cops wander by.

No signs of life.

The sound was getting louder. It was definitely a car. I turned back ahead to look for the source, and was suddenly blinded by a insanely bright pair of lights coming down the road at a startlingly fast pace. I yelped out loud and jumped out of the way just in time; I could feel the draft rush through my coat and the cold metal nick the back of my hind paws. Had I not heard it sooner, I most assuredly would've been flattened.

Heart pounding from the close call I'd just had, I hid, shaken and wide-eyed, behind a cardboard box laying untouched in the middle of one of the lawns. Long grass brushed against my belly and tickled at my long muzzle, adrenaline making every one of my senses alert and sharper than ever. I cautiously peek over the top of my hiding place, eyes accustomed to the dark of night picking out the car again. I growled softly. That maniac almost ran me over!

But anger quickly turned into startled recognition. The powder blue Mustang belonged to someone I knew.

Someone I knew quite well.

So surprised by the idea that he would come to this horrid place was I that I almost forgot to duck back down out of sight when he climbed out of his car, flashlight already blazing through the black, dreary street. “Ollie!” he cried, his voice tight with what I was sure was worry, “Ollie!”

I winced at the sound of my name. I laid down and curled into a tight ball, hoping that he wasn't intent upon finding me and that he'd leave just as quickly as he'd come.

“Olivia Rokit!”

Damn.

Why had he come here? Had something happened?

Something horrible had to have happened. He hated this place just about as much as I loved it. It scared him. I couldn't help but laugh a little at his fear. It was dark, yes, and it was rather spooky...but as far as I could tell, I was the most dangerous being that prowled this place. Not once had a met anything worse than a sleeping homeless man here.

But he sounded so terrified and he had driven up at such a crazy speed...

Curiosity drew me to peek over the top again to watch him. Kevin skittered over to my car and ripped the tarp off as if it were a piece of paper and his hands were sets of cat's claws. I could hear him mumbling to himself, but the distance between us paired with the softness of his voice made it impossible for even my acute ears to tell what he was saying. He tried to open the doors and, once realizing that they were locked, used his flashlight to look through the windows.

Finding nothing, as I knew he would, he made a frustrated sound that sounded a bit like a growl and a grunt put together and went up to the first house. He disappeared into the doorway, surprising me with his boldness. Under normal circumstances, he never would've ignored the signs.

Something was definitely wrong.

I could hear him shuffling around inside and could hear him call my name several times. A few minutes later he emerged. “Ollie!” He shouted once more, flashlight piercing the night the way a sharp knife pierces through flesh with ease.

He tried the same process in the next house. So frantic were his actions, so crazily did his hands move when he waved his light as if trying to create a beacon for me to see and come to, that I couldn't help but want to come out. As soon as he slipped into the third house, I quietly slid out from behind my box and made my way toward his car. Maybe I could find something in or around it that could explain the sudden bout of concern.

The car itself looked all right. The body didn't appear to be dented at all and the paint didn't seem to be scratched, so it couldn't have been an accident. Too short to see inside on all fours, I reared up on my hind paws and rested my front ones on the side of the car, claws clinking against the door. I peered in.

I was glad Kevin's car didn't have tinted windows because it made it much easier to see. There was no light to cause any glare on the glass, so after a moment I was positive that there was nothing out of the ordinary. A leather jacket laying crumpled in the back seat, a cowboy hat placed on the dashboard, an empty Starbucks cup sitting on the console...

I sniffed, looking for something strange. Once again the smells of dirt and blood revisit my nose, but nothing jumped out at me as being odd. This place always smelled of blood, but I had never been able to locate the source. It seemed to come from all over.

Nowhere, and everywhere all at once.

I emitted a puzzled whine and dropped down on all fours once more, sniffing around the tires. Still, there was nothing.

“Hey!”

I froze with one paw lifted in the air, feeling as if I'd just had a spotlight literally thrust upon me. Panic shot through my body and I cringed away from the bright light, neck fur bristling in alarm and confusion. I hadn't taken that long, had I? He should still be in there!

Kevin's fight or flight instinct kicked in. With hazel eyes glittering with frenzied panic he charged at me with arms waving and out of instinct I crouched low, whimpering and growling all at the same time as I tried to decide if I should run away or fight back. If I ran, I was a coward. If I fought, he would get hurt. “Get out of here!” he yelled, “Leave my car alone, you stupid coyote!”

Coyote?!

Just as his flashlight came about to clobber me on the side of the head, I brought my eyes up to meet his, lifting my muzzle and glaring, furious. A coyote! Wolves were far better than their city and desert dwelling cousins. Did I look like a coyote, or was he just stupid? He froze, the metal light just centimeters from my cheek. I didn't flinch, staring up at him with smoldering contempt.

Then he was staring at me with big, saucer-sized eyes. Something in them made my heart start beating a painful tattoo on the inside of my chest again. He knew who I was. I don't know how, but he did. He knew, he knew, he knew...

No! He couldn't recognize me. I was a different species. I could still keep my secret...he wouldn't have to leave me...

“O-Ollie...?”

He knew.

He withdrew his 'weapon'. His other hand, trembling like a leaf rattled by the wind, drifted from his side toward the end of my nose. I looked desperately away, willing my paws the opposite direction but unable to move. I was frozen. Rooted. Helpless. “Don't look at me!” I wanted to scream, “You can't see me like this! You can't! You'll think I'm a monster!”

“Ollie...h-how did you...what did you do?”

I hated to do it, but I did. He couldn't see this was really me...

Out of desperation I snarled at him and sunk my fangs into the soft flesh of his trusting, outstretched hand. Such force I applied to my jaws that I heard the sickening crunch of small, brittle bones between my teeth. The smell and taste of the hot, bitter metallic liquid that spurted into my mouth made my stomach churn. Those were his bones...that was his blood...

It was a horrible thing to do. The blood was all too real now. I knew where it was coming from.

But the worst thing about it was his howl of agony. I released him, blood dripping from my muzzle.

Then I ran.


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A/N: I toyed with this idea for quite some time before actually writing it. I've always kind of imagined Ollie having some big secret and that being the reason why she's gone or secretive all the time, and it was Halloween and werewolves are my favorite monsters, so why not make her a werewolf? I hope you enjoyed this. Happy Halloween!