Wolf's Blood

All Rights Reserved ©

euphoric bliss

John threw down the wrench in frustration and kicked over the dirt bike as he muttered obscenities under his breath. He ran his oily hand through his long, brown, scraggly hair; timing is just not right, he thought. It had taken him all day to fix the bike and he wore his school uniform of Pointe Coupee Central High School the colors Red, Black and White using them as a rag. He notices grime on the back of his hand and promptly wiped the sludge on his white button up uniform shirt.

John strolled back into his shed to turn up the death metal music he was listening to and put his beloved dirt bike back on its kickstand. Four hours and several adjustments later he smiled to himself.

John was crossing his fingers and muttering to himself, “Here goes nothing!”

He jumped on his motorcycle and turned the key; he pressed the start button, a cough and a stutter then silence.

“Dammit!” He muttered.

John was about start the process over again when something big moving through the brush caught his eyes. He moved cautiously to the shed to retrieve his flashlight and turned down his stereo. John listened intently to the sound of movement through the weeds.

Movement ceased as John searched for the source with his flashlight. Glowing eyes out of the darkness startled him making him lose his balance dropping the flashlight and falling backwards on his buttocks. The creature was so close John could smell its breath. He thought it was a huge dog or something but it had no collar and he did not recognize it from any of the dogs that ran around in his neighborhood.

He gently withdrew, John did not want to make any sudden movements that would set a rabid dog off but the flashlight sat peerlessly close to the dog’s paws. Against his better judgment he slowly moved for the flashlight.

Almost got it, he thought, just a little further, he could feel the hard plastic on his fingertips when unexpectedly the dog’s canines were exposed and it lashed out and bit John on the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger. He screeched out in shock as he went for broke snatching up the flashlight and scrambling back to his dirt bike setting off the motion sensor floodlights in the back of his house.

He could not believe his eyes as the lights filled the darkness, it was not a dog at all but a majestic sinewy flaxen-furred wolf with golden flaked eyes. The Wolf swayed in eerie silence its eyes trying to adjust to the blinding light, looking betrayed, hurt, and confused.

John could not put his finger on it but there was something familiar in the predator’s eyes, it was as if he had known those eyes for years. However, he did not have time to ponder this as long as his hand was bleeding profusely he needed to tend to it and get out of danger as the Wolf steadily closed the distance between John and itself.

Looking around John found a flathead screwdriver on the ground by the bike and readied it like a weapon for the inevitability of another attack. John seized his moment as the Wolf-thing closed the distance its body stretched upward its paws resting on the motorcycle seat. He thrust the screwdriver in the wolf’s paw so hard it went through its pad and tore into the leather bike seat, only stopping when screwdriver hit metal.

The Wolf-thing jerked back trying to free its impaled paw on the seat. With a violent arcing motion, it was free tearing leather and padding as the motorcycle fell on its side. The Wolf whined out in agony its body twirled about in senseless circles as it tried to take out the screwdriver with its teeth.

John hefted up the bike pressed in the clutch; one fluid motion jumped on the punctured seat and desperately pressed start. The engine fired up with one try, the exhaust sounding like a chainsaw. He revved up the throttle and released the clutch as it jerked fiercely and took off leaving a cloud of dust, debris and ruts on the ground in its wake.

Now moving, John’s confidence surged and instead of running away he rode around in a circle trapping the injured wolf. Snarling loudly, the wolf-thing feeling trapped, it stood its ground shoulders low to the earth, snapping at the tires every time the dirt bike went around in a dizzying pace. John smiled as the dirt bike circled around to the wolf again; he squeezed hard on the front brake. The back wheel lurching forward and up in the air, the rear of the bike whipping around as the muffler found its target striking the Wolf on the muzzle. Fur and flesh sizzled as the stunned Wolf-thing pulled away from the scorching muffler like removing a slice of cheesy pizza from the whole pizza pie.

The blonde wolf thing’s eyes filled with agony and betrayal bounding off with its tail between its legs to the relative safety of the brush. John’s confidence growing he stopped the motorcycle to check out his handiwork; he carefully touched the charred meat on the tailpipe.

It was over, John won and he caught his breath, his heart racing a mile a minute as the adrenaline washed through his body. The excitement of it all let out endorphins that had the domino effect on the parasite flooding his mind. He had a light headed and dizzy feeling as his sight left him a calm state of euphoric bliss came over him as he passed out and fell off the bike.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.