wolf man

8/6/2019 Wolf Man

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Of Wolf and Man

I’m glad you found yourself to my little cottage. Come in, come in. Please. I’ve just

made some tea. Have a cup.

There you go, sit down. I haven’t had a visitor in such a long time. I live here all by

myself. Truth be told, I enjoy the silence, but I do miss the human company now and

then.

Tell me, son. Do you like stories with a bit of strangeness in them? You do? That’s

good. I do, too. And I feel like talking, so instead of boring you with old-man babbles,

I’ll tell you an interesting tale. What you make of it and what you do with it is

entirely up to you.

Alright, then. Let’s see… I’m around sixty one years old, now. The fresh mountain air

and a healthy living’s is good for the age, men get old, all the same. Anyway. This

story here is about forty years ago. That’s right; it’s about the Sun Wars. As you

probably know, the Kingdom of the Sun was invading our good land. And well… Okay.

How about I skip the details and go right into the fold? I’ve sure you’ve heard most of

the stuff a million times, anyway. So I’ll get to the part you never hear of, even

behind closed doors.

A few others and myself- a squad of, well, specials you could say, I guess- had been

sent behind the enemy lines. It wasn’t easy sneaking through but we did and were

there, and it was a vital mission. The right documents in the right hands can be

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impossibly powerful. We were in the woods, in our uniforms and our tight boots with

no weapons except our knives and nine shot pistols. Darusan 500, I think. And we

were supposed to live off the land, and by God we did.

A hundred yards in front of us was the enemy base. More of a fort than anything else,

really. We had to go in there and disable the communications link. It was a sub-base

for a hub. If that went down, they’d have some serious trouble with links. And the

place was supposed to be impenetrable, too. Well, it was near enough impregnable.

Anyway, there were armed guards all over, with Bologois on their shoulders and more

ammunition than there were grass. Our orders were to wait for one other man. We

waited till dusk, and then the man showed up. He was ragged, tough, filthy and

completely naked. We knew it was him because we were told he’d be like that.

He looked at us and just nodded his head, thanking us for waiting for him, “Name’s

Vole. You know the plan?” We all replied in the affirmative. And we waited a few

more hours.

The moon was out, a full moon, but it was hid behind some real dark clouds. And soon

enough, it started to rain. That seemed pretty fine with the new man. That’s when it

started, and didn’t end soon enough, if you ask me. He nodded at us once again and

started to head towards the fort. We were all staring after him wondering what the

hell he was planning to do. We were good soldiers, but this man with his white hair

was supposed to be something else.

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Well that suited fine with us. And off he went just waltzing in towards the front door.

We saw two soldiers up on the battlements look down at him not even aiming their

gun at him. He knocked on the door as if he was visiting his courtesan or some such.

And sure enough, the huge double doors opened right up and an officer came forward.

They chatted for a minute, before the officer threw a cross at Vole, and down he

went. If we were lesser men we’d have panicked. But, we didn’t. And things were

still going to plan.

And it was the waiting game, once again. The rain fell all around us, soaking us in our

fear and our doubts and responsibilities to our land. There was a howl in the distance,

followed by several more near around. The wolves were out hunting tonight.

And then the strangest thing happened. It chilled our blood and bones and made us

shiver like we’d been frozen right there and then. We looked at each other and just

kept quiet as another howl came up from the fort. We just kept quiet and hugged

ourselves to keep out the cold. The rain died down slowly, but the howls just kept on

going, and the other ones seemed closer now.

We heard a scream from inside the fort, and we were all looking at that huge building

with our eyes bulging out. And you know what happened? These enormous wolves we

heard appeared out of the dark, and padded up to the fort. Huge bear-like wolves.

You could see their sharp teeth clear as day, so big they were. They were in front of

the double doors and just stood there waiting, paws dug into the ground, like coiled

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spring. Then another howl went up from inside the sub-base. And the wolves? Quick as

lightning, they leaped towards the door, and splinters were everywhere.

We heard a lot more screams after that, all of them human. And then it was silent.

Just… nothing. The rain had stopped, and we could hear the trees rustling, and that

was about it…

The wolves padded out of the broken door. There was blood all over their furs, thick

and sticky and some already dried. It scared the hell out of us. We just stared on.

After all the wolves came out, our man did too. Still naked, but covered with blood.

His eyes were glowing and he had something in his hand.

It was a crystal. And that little thing glowed, too, as if it held all the magic in the

world. There was a gun fire, and all those glowing eyes, of the man and the wolves,

turned towards the sound. A platoon came towards them armed with rifles. That was

when we jumped into action. We only had nine shot pistols. But we were darn good at

using them. And we hardly missed. We were firing at them, getting them left and

right. We had good cover so they didn’t see us. The man and the wolves began to run

the other way. I saw the man put the crystal in his mouth and he leapt.

And that was the last I saw of the man. Because what I saw then was no man. In mid-

air, he… changed. He changed, right in front of us into a damned white wolf! I swear

to God he did. The crystal was still in his mouth, and him and his pack of wolves just

kept on running and running and running. We kept on shooting and shooting and

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shooting. The platoon was shooting right back at us, but some were still shooting

towards the wolves.

I ran out, and reloaded. I looked at the pack and I saw our man, our Wolfman, spit the

little crystal into the air. With a swipe of his paw, the crystal shattered, and there

was an explosion of light. We had more cover of darkness in the woods so we weren’t

as blinded as the enemy. We were able to take out the rest of them in the confusion.

And then we looked at the wolves.

They were circling the shimmering light, and it just hung there in the air. Our

Wolfman looked back at us and dropped its head just a slight little as if to nod its

head. We did the same. And then they were gone. So was the light.

We went into the building and we took out everything that needed taking out and we

returned to our rendezvous point, and… well, we never talked about it again… It isn’t

something you talk about often. Les they lock you up in a mental asylum, you know?

… … …

There you have it, son. One story, fresh and strange.

I see you’ve drunk your tea… And it’s getting dark outside. You want to head off?

That’s wise. Woods aren’t safe in this season.

You take care now, you hear? And don’t go running into trouble.

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8/6/2019 Wolf Man


The CrowWriter’s note: I’ve never considered myself a writer of poetry. But I guess sometimes you just have totry. Here’s the result. I tried to be humorous. I’m not good at that either.

Once upon a time, I stumbled upon a crow.And the crow said to me, "Why are you so slow?"I looked about me and I wondered, How I could be so,When it was all I could do to move against the winds that blow.

The crow crowed, and said, "You're a fool."I looked about me once more, and stumbled upon a stool.The crow crowed again and said, "Do you see?"I was quite dizzy, you know and so I asked, "Do you mean me?"

The crow creaked a laughter and said, "Possibly."Confused and puzzled, I crooked a frown, "What have I done to thee?"Impossible as it was, the crow smirked bitterly,And sure to say, I was fuming, terribly.

"Cruel and mean creature. Knave." I said, "Stop taunting me."Another croaked laughter erupted, "I only say what I perceive."I began to weep like a child, though I didn't know why.The crow crowed and flew away leaving me very low and dry.

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8/6/2019 Wolf Man


Walk a mileWriter’s note: Bangladesh is a country overrun by poverty and the majority of the population has to earn their keep through menial manual labor. Pulling rickshaws and carrying passengers to their destination is one of them.

Almost always, these are people with a bitter story to their lives. But sometimes, you see someone whose smilelife just can’t take away. Do you feel sad for the man who can smile despite his luck?

I met a man once.

Even in the cold of the night, he wears just a sarong, a shirt and a winter cap on his

head. The cold doesn’t bother him much anymore; it has been a long time since he

got used to it. Every day he takes out his rickshaw and wanders the city saving up on

his meager fares to survive the day and move on to the next. He’s a simple man, and

he has simple needs. Long hair and long beard, he doesn’t care so long as he gets his

fares. And even though he has to give away a part of his earnings every night, it’s not

enough to dishearten him.

He sleeps in the rickshaw garage at night. He likes the silence and the emptiness; he

says with a happy smile, it helps him sleep better. He spends some of the night in

contemplation, about his lonely life and the freedom it gives him. He looks at the

dark sky, the moon and the stars covered up by a blanket of smog, and he hums and

sings to himself. Humming under the stars without worries and without a care in the

world, he drifts off into the sleep, enjoying the sound of silence. He never hears the

footsteps, and he never feels the hands on his feet, nor does he hear the thief running

off into the distance, a pair of torn and battered shoes in his hands.

The rickshaw-puller keeps on dreaming about a quiet world, a smile on his face. He

wakes up the next day barefooted. Hurt and confused, he trudges through the day,

still earning his meager fares and still surviving the day. Shoes or no shoes, everyone

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has to walk his mile. He remembers the tatters and frayed plastic, smiles and asks

himself, “Why would you steal another man’s shoes?”

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