'That's seven unauthorised absences off every month for three months. Is there something you want to tell me about? Is there some sort of problem at home? Or a medical issue?' The HR manager, a woman called Dierdre, stared at Val. Her words were kind but her tone was unsympathetic.
'No, there's nothing,' Val said. Something twitched inside her. She felt the hairs on her back start to prickle. Not here, she told herself, remembering the moon rising high earlier on. Not at her meeting with HR to discuss why she was having so much time off.
'I'll improve my performance for next month,' she said. 'I've just been having some difficult times. I had to sell my house as part of the divorce. I'm renting somewhere from a guy, and he's pretty weird. My kids are growing up and going to uni. I...'
'Well, do you want to reduce your hours?' Dierdre said. 'If you're finding things hard, maybe you should. Or, maybe you should think of whether the pressure of this fast paced environment is right for you.'
That was a pretty strong hint. Val couldn't really afford to reduce her hours. Les, her landlord, was some sort of socialist; he'd be all right. But the prices of everything had risen too much. It sounded like Dierdre was suggesting she found another job.
'Reducing my hours could be a solution, yes.' It was only 10.39 on a Monday morning, and as Val left Dierdre's office, walked downstairs to the ladies' toilets and slammed the door, she knew another unauthorised absence was about to begin. This was the one which would be worse than all the others. This, she knew, as she scrambled for the toilet, would be the one to get her fired. She'd usually managed to make some excuse so she was out of the office when it happened, but this time there was no excuse.
Thick, silver hairs began sprouting from her face and arms. The bones in her nose lengthened. She howled in misery as the teeth in her mouth sunk down and were replaced by a more canine set. The fingers on her hands disappeared and became furred claws. Her pants ripped as a long, fluffy tail emerged from the base of her spine. Her clothing lay in a ripped heap as she jumped for the door, barking and howling.
As a wolf, Val ran out of the toilets. The security guard looked the other way. She had left her bag and keys in the toilets at work. She could not control when this change happened, and it seemed to be getting worse. There were no forests anywhere near Symantech Enterprises. The nearest there was was a small park down the road. She bounded towards the park. Her canine senses gave her special abilities. Although there was no phone, the lamp post in the alley was the next best thing. She spent several minutes sniffing it and keeping up with the latest news. Most of it was boring, it was about where to find cats, rabbits and pigeons. There were some flirtatious messages.
She'd had enough. She left a message of her own, although she doubted that anyone who frequented the alley would be able to help. 'I have lycanthropy! Does anyone here know how to help? Can anyone find a cure?'
The truth was, Val didn't really want a cure. She liked the freedom of going about on all fours, being able to do things humans couldn't, she loved being able to communicate with dogs, and she loved the old legends of the seven hundred year war with the vampires and its tales of heroism.
But now lycanthropy was ruining her life. The change would come on without warning. It would disappear just as suddenly. Once she had returned to human at the same time she had sniffed her neighbour's dog's bum. That had been almost impossible to explain, and the neighbour had never spoken to her again.
She didn't know anyone who would understand. She couldn't remember the last time she had met another like her. The old packs were gone, dispersed and kept themselves quiet - and that was an optimistic view. Her father had been one of the last.
He had taught her to avoid the urge to chase after toys and cats, the urge that had tamed many of his lupine ancestors. He had taught her to stay wild. But that wasn't much use in the modern world. Capitalism had done what the vampires could not.
'Oh, that's a nice husky,' someone said. An old man sitting on a bench with his wife.
'That's not a husky, Eric.'
'Well, what is it?' Val tensed as she listened to the conversation of the old couple. She ran for a line of trees. She did have a homing instinct, and she tried to listen to it. But would it take her to her old house, or the house she was now renting?
'That's a really, really big fox.'
Val ran away behind some bushes. Unable to cry in this state, she let out a mournful howl. If a fellow sufferer didn't hear her, at least a dog might understand.
They tended to understand most things.
*
She waited under a hedge for the sun to go down. Then, she walked back to the lamp post and sniffed intensively to see if there had been a reply. There were no replies. Just messages saying 'this is my territory, keep out.' Or 'Rabbits in the field down the road.'
The nearest that anyone had come to a reply like hers was a message saying 'My human is sick. What should I do?' She sniffed the scent several times and then left her own response. After this, she went to the top of the alley and howled.
A chorus of barks came in response. She couldn't understand them when they barked that quickly. Her father had been one of the last to speak the old tongue. They probably couldn't understand her.
She trotted down the road. Someone's bin had fallen on its side. How undignified, she thought, as she ate the remains of some fish and chips.
At the top of the road was a van with a sign on it. The van said 'Dog Warden' on it. She turned and ran back down the alley on her battle hardened pads, feeling nauseous. On an impulse she sniffed some blackberries near the lamppost in the alley. How antisocial, she thought as she scented a host of updates from the neighbourhood dogs. Kids pick those.
But there was a message there that caught her attention.
'Lycanthropy ruining your life? I can help you.'
Was it really ruining her life? Or was it the other way round? The world seemed to have no room for anyone like her any more. She turned around with her tail to the blackberries and left her own response. What would her father have said? It was just as well wolves could not shed any tears.
Something scuttled in the distance. It was a rat rather than the majestic stags, bears, dragons and supernatural beasts of the legends she'd grown up on. Nonetheless, she went after it. The fish and chips had not been enough.
*
After sleeping at the back of someone's garden, Val went to the patch of blackberries in the alley. Her message had a response.
'Please come to 36 Sandford Road.'
36 Sandford Road was just a few doors down from Val's work. Anxiety filled her as she considered passing her office and seeing Dierdre. A horrific vision filled her mind of turning human while walking past her work, with no clothes. She had another few days as a wolf - or did she? Thank heavens for that.
But then there was the Dog Warden. Passing the van as she trotted towards 36 Sandford Road, a sinister notice on the side door of the enforcement van declared, 'UNCLAIMED DOGS WILL BE PUT TO SLEEP AFTER A 14-DAY PERIOD'.
She had never changed for that long, but there was a first time for everything.
A few of the older members of her father's pack, he had once told her, never changed back into their human form. With a glance behind her, she disappeared in the direction of her work.
The office was busy. Out of instinct she tensed. A security guard was outside smoking and some of her colleagues were walking to the shops on their breaks. She saw a posh silver car and in involuntary embarrassment she put her ears flat against her head. She was supposed to be having a meeting with that guy. She was definitely fired now.
'Blimey. That's a big dog,' one of the security guards said.
'Looks more like a wolf if you ask me.'
'Maybe it is a wolf? All those animals went missing from London Zoo recently, remember.' Val turned and snarled at them before rapidly retreating into an alley. Her paw trod on some broken glass.
'Don't let your imagination run away with you.'
She trotted down Sandford Road. The glitzy offices at the start of the street were soon replaced by nondescript houses and boarded up shops the further down she went. The sun was concealed by clouds, but still very much there. Peace had reigned with the vampires for 82 years, well before Val and her father's time, but she couldn't help feeling protected by its rays.
36 Sandford Road was a dirty white building which had slats for curtains like an old style office building. The windows were grimy. It claimed it was a letting agency. Looking at the place, Val felt a pang of shame at the thought of what her father would have said. Thousands of years of history destroyed for convenience.
Slowly, she approached the front door of the property and dawdled for a long time, debating whether to jump up at the doorbell, howl or not. Part of her wanted to slink away back home.
The decision was made for her when the door opened. A young guy in his 20s stepped out, dressed in a stained tracksuit. He had a rollup in his hand, looked stoned, had not shaved in several days and strongly smelt of weed. He looked at Val in shock.
'Oh,' he stuttered. 'I - I wasn't expecting.'
Val stared at him.
'We can't do it like this, can we, Sy,' he said in a slow yet agitated voice to someone who was clattering around in a back room.
'Like what, Darryl?' came the voice of a middle aged man.
'We can't do it. Not like this, can we?'
'Like what? What you on about?'
'That...you know. That thing. We can't do the thing.' Darryl started laughing uncontrollably, and took a drag on his spliff.
'Well, you definitely can't. You've got to stop the weed. D'you get me, lad?' Sy stamped forward with heavy footsteps down to the doorway. Val stood with her paws on the damp, flaking paving stones up to the house. The thickset man peered at her and his eyes widened.
'Shit. No, love. Darryl's right. This ain't gonna work. Not unless you want to be trapped in the lupine form. I'm guessing you don't want to spend the rest of your life in a zoo, or in a shelter run by the RSPCA.'
'Do you want - you've come this far. I've got some Pedigree Chum. Let me offer you that,' he sighed. Cautiously, Val followed him into the house.
The air was thick with the stench of weed. No windows were open and all the curtains were drawn. On the tobacco stained walls were crucifixes and necklaces with garlic and silver bullets. On the moth eaten sofa, in amongst rizla papers and beer cans, was an ancient copy of the bible. A copy of Malleus Maleficarum, used by the Witchfinder General in the 1600s, lay on the floor with several pages missing and no cover. Sy returned from the filthy kitchen with stale Pedigree Chum in a dog's bowl.
Val ate a little of the dog food. After a while, she felt sick. The advantage of her kind was that they had more self control than the average canine.
'So,' Sy said. 'Do you want to wait here until you change back to human, or are you going to come back, then? You'd be sharing a room with Darryl, is that all right?'
I can't do this, Val thought.
She left the rest of the dog food and bounded towards the door, knocking Darryl aside with dirty paws. He opened the door, looking stoned but relieved.
Yes, Val definitely needed a new job now. This was the end. No way was she going to be allowed back after this. As she wandered in search of a decent size woodland she wondered if her landlord and his union would have any decent advice for her.
Still, she felt strangely liberated.
Her father's legacy would live on another day.
Prompt 2: A cursed werewolf, desperate to break free from their affliction, embarks on a perilous journey to find a rumoured cure.
Word count: 2170