Of Wolves, Ravens, and Writing Desks by Zachary A. Pieper - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When the wolf met the Raven

“Wakey wakey boyo!” Is all I hear before the cold water hits me.

“Fuck! God dammit Ekkert!” I shout as I jolt upright, standing from where I slept on my sofa in the basement. Must have sat down and passed out.

“HA-HA, serves ya right for sleeping on the job boyo, get yer arse ta the kitchen!” He drops the bucket on my floor and walks off laughing. I wipe the water from my face then check the clock on the wall above my work bench on the far wall. Damn, its mid-day already.

After a fast and cold shower and finding some clean…ish… clothes. I run upstairs, then enter the pub through the kitchen door in back.

“Got four lunch tickets waiting on yer lazy arse already boyo,” Ekkert says with a smile.

“On it uncle E,” I grin back at him.

“Atta boy.”

I work about five hours every afternoon for Ekkert, until the actual cook gets here to handle the dinner rush. For free room and board, it’s a pretty sweet deal. Plus, I couldn’t leave Uncle E hanging.

The hours pass by with relative swiftness as usual. A few customers ask about the collection of cuts and stitches when I serve them, I deflect and say I got rolled by a few guys, but most of them mind their business.

I serve Delores her usual and check the clock, cook is due here any minute now. “Honey what happened to you?” Delores coos at me sweetly.

I turn my head back from the clock to offer her a casual smile, “Got caught in the wrong part of town I guess,” I say.

“Honey I keep telling you this is no place for a sweet boy like you, why don’t you let me take care of you?”

“Because I think your husband might have some strong feelings about that Mrs. Pumbercath,” I say with a smile as I bus her empty plates.

“Oh it would be our little secret honey!” She assures me.

“Seems like a pretty big secret to me,” I say casually.

“Oh I’m sure it is,” she says with a sly smile and a flirting nibble, as her eyes dart below my belt line.

I grin back at her, “Too bad you’ll never know for sure.”

She gives me a playful scowl as I stand and retreat to the kitchen. On my way back two guys I haven’t seen in before are huddled up talking low, it catches my eye, so I stop on the way to bus another table and listen in.

“Ya heard the blood suckers are proposing a new tax on the hemoplants?”

“Yea I did, what in Abyss for ya think?”

“Word around town is they want to shut em down, go back to the old days where they actively hunt…”

“Lycanos help us if that happens…”

Politics, last thing I need to get caught up in.

Ekkert eyes me as I walk back to the kitchen with the dishes. “Almost pounced on ya today aye?” he chuckles to himself.

“One day she really might,” I whisper back as I pass.

I get back into the kitchen, and the heavy steps and familiar gate of Ron the cook promptly stomp through the front door.

“Howdy kiddo,” he says as he comes into the kitchen.

“Not a kid anymore Ron,” I say to him for the 423rd consecutive day in a row.

“Sure, ya are, look how young and spry ya are, haha” he says with a chuckle as he passed me with a stiff pat on the shoulder.

“Well, I guess if we’re grading on a curve, I would be a kid compared to your dusty old ass,” I shoot him a grin.

“Now ain’t that the truth, ya know I turn one-thousand in a week?” He says.

“Damn, that makes you what? Just a few days younger than dirt itself?

“Ha. Ha. Ya know kid Ekkert ain’t much younger than me,”

I nod, “I know I know, you don’t have to tell me the story of how you guys grew up together for the hundredth time.”

“But ya enjoy it so much each time I thought! Haha.” I smile and shake my head as I finish scraping the dishes and get ready to leave for the day.

“Hey kid, before ya go, you mind getting me some more herbs? Running low,” He says as he peaks inside the fridge.

“Sure, no problem Ron,” I say as I hang up my apron.

I leave the kitchen and step out into the crowded dining room, where all the regulars are filing in for Ron’s delicious fare. I can make food. Ron can cook. I file through tables and manage to get to the stairs without knocking into anyone.

Up at the top of the building, the stairwell ends in a little shed type room, barely worth calling a third floor. I grab a pair of shears off the wall, and step outside onto the roof. The beauty of my ‘project’ as Ekkert calls it sprawls before me. I go to the planter where I grow the kitchen herbs, and start collecting.

“Gonna need more fertilizer soon,” I say as I smell a pinch of soil.

I do a quick scan of the other planters before going to the last planter I always go to before leaving my garden.

“Hi mom,” I say as I approach the flower bed. But only one flower is planted here, stargazer lilies, I take a pleasant inhale, and spend a few moments contemplating their beauty, before realizing I got things to do, and head back downstairs.

“Thanks Greenthumb, see ya tomorrow,” Ron says as I hand him the pile of herbs, I nod with a smile and walk out.

Ekkert catches me in the hallway leading to the back door, “Aye ya mind fetching me a batch of honey from Urry’s place?”

“I thought we weren’t buying from Urry anymore?”

“Well… He came by and said he was sorry the other day, so…”

“Urry said he was sorry?”

“In his own way he did,” Ekkert says.

“He slapped the money he owed you on the counter and stomped out, didn’t he.” I say.

“Shut yer trap and fetch me the honey boyo,” he waves a hand dismissively as he walks back to the bar.

“Pain in the ass old man,” I scoff with a half-smile as I walk out.

“I heard ya, ya little bastard,” He shouts after me.

“Can’t be a bastard without parents!” I call back, and I hear a few laughs from the dining room.

I walk over and grab the side car for Lucy, and pull it out front. The sun is just beginning to dip into the western sky, I got plenty of time. Out front, a buck is in the road, running for its life from a pursuing lycan. Poor thing doesn’t stand a chance, hunter is gaining fast. I turn the corner and go to grab Lucy out of lockup. A couple minutes to get the side car on, and I’m off to the honey man.

Cruising down the dirt roads of outer Verone, more commonly known as Wild-Towne, you expect to see all kinds of stuff. Lycans hunting down animals that come in to scavenge an easy meal from some dumpster or garden? Common sight. Humans and lycans alike lining up outside hemoplants to earn a few Blood Marks? Common sight.

Cold-One covered in a thick tarp, running out into the middle of the road to try an flag ya down, that’s unheard of, especially in the daylight.

“Please! Help!” He screams as I approach, I almost swerve to avoid him and keep going. But something, I assume my curiosity, gets the better of me. I hit the brake and skid to a stop a couple dozen feet from him.

“Please help me!” he screams as he begins running towards me.

“Stop right there dead boy, come any closer and I rip that tarp off, what do you want?”

“Please, their chasing me, their gonna kill me!”

“And that’s my problem how?”

His face sinks, then my eyes dart to three lycans, all in beast mode, running after him, who just rounded a corner in an alley. They dart into the road, making a B-line for the Cold-One. My eyes dart back to him, his pale clammy skin, sunken eyes, and the slight smell of rot. Only vampires could be responsible for creating such an abomination. No heartbeat, no life, yet somehow, it walks and talks.

Unnatural.

“Only a matter of time until you go crazy anyways, might as well check out before you hurt someone, if you haven’t already. Say, why are they chasing you again?” I ask deadpan.

The lycans are getting closer. He begins to shake with fear “its not like that!”

“Sure its not,” I scoff and rev my motor, “Good luck.” I kick into gear and take off, he tries to grab at me as I fly past, but he doesn’t make it. The lycans flash past in a blur, and mere moments later, I hear the Cold-One screaming. They elected to pull the tarp and let the sun eat him instead of taking off his head. Dick move.

Towards the west end of north town, the buildings tend to be more brick, less wood and sheet metal like Ekkert’s place. Urry’s apiary is near the shore, his land actually has a dock on it for a small vessel. His sank awhile back though. I drive down the stretch leading to his red brick house, the buzzing of his bees growing stronger as I am surrounded by more and more hives on each side of the drive.

He comes out to meet me, and waves me over to him. I pull up to him, “Greenthumb! Good to see ya! Hows it going lad?”

“Not to bad, here for some honey, heard you paid back Ekkert.”

“Aye I did.” He says with a bit of sour in his voice.

“Why’d you even short him in the first place? We’re like, your best damn customers.”

“Because that son of a bitch welched on our bet! I won that bike god dammit!”

“Ekkert says you cheated, he counted the cards, you literally had an ace up your sleeve.”

He steps closer and points a finger in my face, “You tell that…that!...Ah fouck nevermind! Come get yer damn honey.” He waves me to follow him to the storage shed, where I grab two five gallon buckets of delicious bee spit.

“Ya restarting yer tab then?” He asks.

“Yea, you gonna be at cards this Huday?”

“Yea I’ll be there Greeny,” he says. I nod to him, and walk off with my haul. Urry and Ekkert Garadh, strangest pair of brothers I’ve ever met.

Sun is starting to get low, gotta hurry, Bo hates it when I’m late.

The buildings around Bo’s place are almost completely covered in vines, there’s a thick bush everywhere that ain’t a walkway or road, and a lot of people have fruit trees on their flat roofs. About fifteen minutes of twists and turns later, I pull up to the garage, pull up the door, and get my bike in before my dust cloud catches up to me. Its dark inside, Bo must be out.

“William Greenthumb Garadh!” The lights flash on with an ominous thud of a breaker, illuminating the five-hundred square feet of shop. Bo stands near the back, where he keeps a couch and a cot next to the circuit break and the fridge.

“Bo the big black bastard!” I shout with a smile as I start marching up to him. My oldest friend Bo was never small, and at six feet seven inches, the giant bastard plain outgrew me towards the tail end of puberty. His dark brown skin and amber eyes are pretty common on the west side of town. And he likes to wear his long hair in tight braids decorated with ornamental glass beads.

“Can’t be a bastard with no parents!” He exclaims back as we clasp hands and our shoulders collide. “Thought you weren’t gonna make it, what took ya?”

“Errand for Ekkert, you gotta stop getting up so damn early. Then maybe you wouldn’t go to bed as soon as the sun wasn’t at high noon.”

“Funny guy! Just hilarious, but to bad for you I ain’t interested in running round all night on my bike no more, you find the best parts!” He pauses dramatically and reaches into his back pocket, “in the daylight!” He exclaims as he thrusts his outstretched hand forward.

“No way!” I shout, grabbing the fusion coil from his much darker hand. I look between his dark amber eyes and the exceptionally expensive part, I then noticed the engraving. “By Lycanos’ furry balls this isn’t real.” I read the engraving again.

“Its as real as the beads in my braids boy! That is the genuine article, a Fuzex-X2 coil, slightly used and ready to go.”

I squint up at him, “slightly used?

“Yea slightly used,” he says, unsure of the issue.

“Bo, you didn’t boost this did ya?”

He looks at me sideways, “Will you really think I’ma get back into the night life just for your pale ass? I told you I’m straight now, I actually found it in the scrap yard. The inner lining was burnt out. They say you can’t replace em, but I figured out a way too. Its good as new!”

“You sure?” I ask, skeptical Bo really figured out some technique or process that not even the blood suckers have dreamt up yet.

“Boy would I lie to you? Better yet would I give you a part if I thought it was gonna blow up in ya face?” He looks at me cross.

“Nah, I suppose not,” I smile, pocketing the coil. “How much?”

“Ahh shit, you squash my tab at Ekkert’s we call it even.”

“You sure? That’s only a few hundred Marks, this is worth like, ten times that…”

He nods, “Yea man I’m sure, you bring me great scrap all the time, shit half the rides in here are running on parts you dug out of the scrap pile.”

“I told ya I won’t have time for that anymore right?”

“Yea you did, but I still say you’re a fucking idiot. Those fights are rigged, eventually, the crowd is gonna get bored with you, then your gonna die.” He says with grave severity.

“Guess I’ll have to go all in before then.”

“You suck at gambling,” he reminds me.

“With cards and dice, in The Cages, I have the best poker face in town.”

“Better than Razors?” He asks seriously.

That stops me cold in my train of thought. “I saw him there last night,” I say.

“Yea that don’t surprise me… He say anything to you?”

“Tried to get me on another jo…”

“Dontchu fucking do it!” He shouts and point a finger at me.

“I’M NOT!” I shout back. Staring into my friends eyes for a few seconds.

He nods, “Aight I believe you… You wanna stay for dinner? Delila made pizza last night, still got half in the fridge.”

I squint at him, “Meat lovers? With onion and pineapple?”

“Would I eat anything else?” he says with a smile.

“Okay, ya sold me.” I say with a nod.

I begin to walk over to the corner with the fridge and tv and the rest of the amenities. He throws a thickly muscled arm over my shoulder, and we start talkin’ bout’ what movie to put on.

Two hours later, Bo is getting tired, and I have an errand to run. I thank my friend again for the coil, promise to stay outta trouble (which is a lie and we both know it), and rev my engine on the way out of there.

The sun is down now, but the night is clear. Barely need my headlights as I zip down the dirt roads to run my last errand for the day. Sister Angeline isn’t going to be happy I’m coming so late, but she’ll live.

I turn onto a side road that ain’t used much, because it offers me a smoother ride, and up ahead a ways, just at the edge of my headlight, I spot a group of people on the side of the road, in front of an abandoned hemoplant. As I pull closer and closer, it becomes clear it’s a group of three, harassing an individual pinned against the building wall.

“Just keep driving Will, it’s not your problem just keep driving,” I whisper to myself, and my bike sails past. But mere moments after my I zip past them; I hear a cry of pain.

I sigh and shake my head, reach down and pull the emergency release on the sidecar, and then make a hard one eighty. I aim my bike straight at the group as I rev my engine and my front tire pops off the ground. I shoot forward, only to have to skid to a stop a couple hundred feet later.

The groups attention is on me now, a clouds of dust wafts over me as I stare at them menacingly, no one says anything for a moment. I take stock of the dynamic. Three Cold-Ones, harassing a tall glass of water, yea they were definitely about to eat her.

The Cold-Ones are all wearing hoodies and long pants. There pale faces and sunken eyes the only discernible traits in the moonlight.

The girl… Actually no, the woman; tall, dark, and sultry. Long black hair that’s full bodied and straight. Creamy white skin, pink lips, silver-gray eyes. At numerous places on her arms and legs, you can find various tattoos, all wildly different from each other. Her left ear has two gleaming silver industrial bars running at a slight angle from top to bottom, only visible because her hair on that side is braided in several tight rows. She’s wearing back tapering dress with a black top, and as it goes down the black forms into black tentacles reaching into a white abyss. It has white leather laces on each side, and the shoulder straps are braided black leather cords.

She is the most stunning woman I have ever seen.

And a single scratch on her cheek drips blood, from where one of the abominations marred her.

Then one of the deadboys hisses at me and the moment is fucking ruined. “Leave us alone, this is our business,” the abomination says.

“You’re in my neighborhood, that makes it my business,” I say stepping off my bike. My polished black leather boot coming back to the ground with an authoritive thud.

They look between each other, decide three on one is reasonable odds, and begin skulking towards me.

“Your funerals,” I say as I begin to change.

I flex, and my face begins to lengthen, my shoulders start to hunch slightly. My black fur quickly covers my body. I strip off my biker jacket as I change, throwing it behind me. My claws lengthen, my fangs pop over my bottom lip, and I grow from six feet, to seven.

“By Lycanos, run or die abominations!” I snarl.

Then they lunge at me, I howl as they sail through the air, before raising a clawed hand, and swatting down the middle one with brutal power, tearing its flesh and breaking bones with the force of the impact. Then the other two are upon me. One latched onto the side of my neck, the other onto the meaty part of my shoulder. Growling, I sprint towards the brick wall of the building, slamming into it front first. I dislodge one. Now with an arm free, I reach up and grab the others neck and sink my claws it. It struggles as I pull it off. The other on my right tries to get back onto me, but I use his companion as a club and they both end up in a heap on the ground.

The first one I swatted down jumps onto my back and bites into the base of my neck. I howl in agony while reaching up and digging a clawed hand into its skull. Before dragging it off my back. I use my other hand to grasp the base of its neck, and begin to pull. A few bites sever enough muscle, and I rip its head off within a couple seconds.

The other two got up and took off running, I throw the head and body at them. The head misses, but the body connects and collapses the hit target. I drop to all fours and sprint over, before it can scurry to its feet, I clamp my mouth around its neck, and bite down with crushing force. Decapitating it.

I release and shake my head to get the foul, fetid-blood out of my mouth. When I raise my head to look for the third, its nowhere in sight. I pant and frantically scan, expecting another attack from behind, but it’s nowhere to be seen. I guess it ran off.

I hear a dripping sound and look down. Blood is pooling underneath me. I reach a clawed hand up to my neck, both sides are bleeding pretty bad.

I’m getting dizzy…

I feel a hand tap on my shoulder, and I spin with a raised claw to attack. But I freeze when I realize it’s the girl in the tentacle dress. She raised both hands to guard in a wide-eyed flinch. I slowly lower my hand, panting heavily. “Sorry, I thought you were the third one,” I say.

My head is starting to spin.

“It’s okay…You’re gravely wounded.” She says pointing to my wounds, her voice is like silky snowfall on pink Sakura blossoms.

I glance down at the blood pooling on the ground. “What these? Nah, just a few…flesh wounds…”

Then everything goes black.

(Chapter 2 Of Wolves, Ravens, and Writing Desks by Zachary A. Pieper - Full Novel Link in Bio)