Stories and Other Random Things

The Wolf Curse

Its not exactly what I'm used to writing, but this idea has been bugging me for a while now.

[Prologue]

   I was eleven when I first learned about the curse. It was around midnight on a school night and I was supposed to be asleep, but I'd been having nightmares again so I decided to try and sneak a book from my dad's library. I'd done it before so I knew which boards to step on and which not to, but I hadn't expected my parents to still be up.

   I remember tiptoeing towards the closed door, holding my breath every time the old house would creak. I remember squeezing my eyes shut, tightly, every time waiting for my dad to come out of his room and take me back to bed, but he never came. So I inched closer to the door, darting glances over my shoulder towards my parents room, expecting to see one of them in the doorway watching me. When I got to the door I'd breathed out a sigh of relief, thinking I was in the clear.

   And then I heard their voices.

   “Markus, stop pacing. Everything will be fine.” I can remember the sound of my mother's voice so clearly, I can remember how desperate, how afraid she sounded.

   “We don't know that for sure, Becky. You saw what that damned book said. It'll be ten times harder for Natasha to control herself when she reaches full maturity, all because she's a hybrid.” Never before had I ever heard tears in my father's voice, but they were there that night.

   “The book also says that every full moon you'll become so over ruled with the blood lust that it'll be impossible for you to not kill. Tell me, dear husband, when was the last time you killed an innocent?” Killed? The thought of my dad hurting anyone, or anything, was so comical that I almost laughed.

   “I haven't killed anyone since I met you, Becky. You know that and you know that its only because I've locked myself up every full moon.” Locked himself up? Why would he need to lock himself up on the full moon? None of it had made any sense and the overwhelming dread that filled my mind had only confused me more.

   “And you can teach Natasha how to control herself, we can teach her how to control it. If you haven't killed anyone in over 20 years then we can make sure she won't.” I remember the fear creeping up my spine, nearly choking me with its intensity. Why would I kill anyone? What did they mean? And what were they going to teach me to control?

   “And if we can't? Rebeka, if she loses control just once you know what will happen.” My dad's voice sounded heartbroken, hopeless and that scared me more than anything. My dad always knew what to do, he always had a plan, even if it was just showing me how to take care of all the bullies at school. 

   “Then we'll deal with ti when the time comes, if the time comes. But worrying about it now won't do us any good. Markus, we've got 12 years to teach her to control those urges.” What urges?

   “12 years will go by quicker than you think and those urges will only grow the longer she fights it. She'll have to feed sometime and that's when its most common to lose control. She won't have a choice, the blood lust will override her human instincts.” Whether it was only because I was dense or because of the shock, but what they were saying made no sense to me at all. 

   “We'll teach her how to control herself. If worse comes to worse we'll lock her in the basement every full moon. I just want her to as normal a life as possible.” By then I was so confused that I'd been debating whether or not to just go in and ask them what they were talking about. 

   “Becky, sweetie, she'll never have a normal life after she turns 18. That's when the blood lust begins, when she turns 23 it will only intensify, she'll have to deal with it for the rest of her life. And it'll only be a matter of time before she gives in.” After that I stopped listening and walked, like a zombie, back to my room. I remember the fear and the confusion bombarding my mind, I remember crawling back into my bed, curling into a ball and crying myself to sleep. Because I was scared. I had no more nightmares that night, but I couldn't get that conversation out of my head. I had no clue what they were talking about and I'd been too scared to ever ask them when I had the chance.