It had been a hectic weekend. I had to mow the 
lawn, deal with a stack of homework and now I was running 
late for baseball practice.  Coach was going to chew my ass 
out for sure.  I grabbed my glove and ran out of the house.   
I think Papa wanted to tell me something but I was in too big 
a hurry to listen.  I wasn't being rude just being a teenager. I 
was in such a hurry to get to practice, I didn't notice anything else.
That was a bad mistake. I realized how bad it was when I found the
 tranquilizer dart in my butt.  
I awoke to found myself tied tightly to a chair.  
A single bare light bulb dangling over my head 
that cast ragged, ugly shadows about the room. Sitting 
directly in front of me was a bearded, fat man in a dark suit.  
He sat silently, smoking a cigarette.  He stared at me as if I 
was bug under a microscope.  Two men, one to each side of him,
stood at attention holding military assault rifles.  
I recognized him from the description that Papa gave 
me; it was the Reverend Jim Bob Biggs, self-styled demon 
hunter.  I was in deep, deep shit.
He stood up, walked over, and reached out 
to slowly crush out the cigarette on my cheek.  The 
pain!  Be calm, concentrate, ignore the smell. Flesh is a 
servant, flesh is a tool, flesh does what it is told.  I made no 
sound.
"I am a soldier in the service of the Lord."
"You're a killer," I said with contempt.  
"Soldiers kill in a just cause," he said lighting up 
another cigarette.  However, I have been less than satisfied 
with my campaign against your kind."
"You haven't killed enough of us yet?" I snarled.
In response to my impudence, he again crushed out a 
cigarette on my face.
"For a soldier to be successful, he must have 
as much information about his enemy as possible.  I've had 
your community under surveillance for some time, looking for 
a special opportunity; the opportunity to snatch a cub like 
you for, interrogation."
"You think because I am a kid I'm more likely to spill 
my guts."
"Exactly.  This is the deal.  You tell me what I want to 
know, and I will set you free.  Lie to me, and you will die by 
slow torture," he said as he brought another cigarette 
towards my face.
"I'll talk!  but you're not going to like it."
"Why?"
"There is a difference between telling the truth and 
telling you what you want to know.  You think that we are a 
cult, that we worship the devil and practice human 
sacrifice."
"Isn't that how  werewolves gain their power to 
change from men into wolves?"
"No, we are born this way.  Like 
most humans you have it reversed.  We are not men who 
change into wolves; the lupine form is our natural state.  Besides,
I don't think we look a thing like a wolf, but more like very large greyhounds 
with long legs, large brains and opposable thumbs.  And 
while we are quite agile on all fours, we are bipeds just like you."
"What nonsense is this," he snarled and started to 
burn me again. 
"Reverend!  You have to put all that occult crap out of 
you head," I said struggling against my bonds.
"Be still cub, my men have silver bullets in their 
rifles."
"God damn it man it doesn't make any difference if 
the bullets are silver, copper, gold or lead.  I am not something
supernatural; I am flesh and blood. 
Any kind of bullet will kill me."
"Boys, go wait outside." The two men obediently 
left the room.  "See,  I am a fair man.  I could tell that
my soldiers scared you so I have sent them out.  
Now there's only you and me.  Talk to me."
"Listen," I said catching my breath and trying to 
hold my fear.  "It would help if you think 
of us as ship wreaked sailors."
"Fascinating," he said scratching his neck.  "You're 
saying that you came here in a ship from the old world?"
"In a way, yes."
"What happened, did you ship go down in a
storm?"
"No, the hyperspace jump engines exploded."
"The. . .what?"
"Hyperspace jump engines.  Those are standard 
equipment on interstellar exploration vessels."  The 
Reverend gave me a blank look.  "Space ships.  I didn't lie 
when I said we came from the old world, I just didn't mean 
this one."
"You're telling me you are an alien from outer space?!" 
"I'm not an alien from outer space; I was born in 
Waco, Texas.  However, my great, great grandfather was 
from the home world.  The ship came down in the general 
area of New York city."
"I find that hard to believe.  Why are there no 
newspaper accounts of such an occurrence happening?  
Something like that would be hard to miss."
"That's probably because the printing press had not 
been invented."
"That would have been around the time of the Civil 
War and there were plenty of printing presses around."
"No, the crash happened during the middle ages."  
The Reverend looked at me incredulously.  "We are a rather 
long lived race."
This is all bullshit! You just happen to be able to turn 
into human beings!"
"Not just human but any type of life form.  We 
are perfect mimics."
"So you're saying that every thing I think I know about 
werewolves is wrong?"
"No, there's one thing you know about us that's true.  
If we bite a human, he or she, becomes one of 
us."
"I suppose you have a rational scientific explanation 
for that also," he said sarcastically.
"Of course I do.  We were a highly advanced, 
technological people.  The crew of our space ship were all 
members of an extended family group, but a species can only 
tolerate so much inbreeding before it gets into trouble.  They 
devised a symbiotic virus that would stay in their system to
pass on from one generation to another.  When the 
virus entered the bloodstream of the selected aboriginal 
person, it would immediately begin to resequence their DNA 
along our lines.  I'm speaking from experience here."
"Explain."
"I'm adopted. It was winter and the roads were icy.  
The car lost control, slid over an embankment, and my 
parents-my biological parents-were both killed.  
Papa dug me out of the wreckage and took me home with 
him.  At least that is what Papa told me.  I was too young to 
remember any of it."
"And you believed this story?"
"Papa has his faults but he's not a liar"
"Oh Lord, an innocent human child has been 
recruited and corrupted by the powers of darkness!  I'm 
almost sorry I have to kill you."
"You haven't believed a word I said."
"You can't help but believe all the lies you have been 
told.  You were raised in the presence of evil.  None of this 
is your fault, and I am a fair man. Boys come back in here!"  
His two thugs promptly reentered the room.  "I promise 
you will die quickly.  Shoot him, John". 
"I don't think so," one man replied.  "I am, however, going to 
ground his ass for a month for being so careless."  The man 
smiled-dare I say-wolfishly at the Reverend.
"Papa, is that you?".
"Don't be silly," he replied.
"John?" the Reverend said, with fear in his voice.
"You should have paid more attention to my son, 
Reverend.  He was being truthful when he told you that we 
are perfect mimics."
"I don't understand,' said the Reverend.
"Your men were relieved of guard duty.
"I hope you learned a lesson, son.  I wanted to tell 
you before you ran out the house, that the Reverend was seen in our
neighborhood.  Even so, you should have spotted him following you. 
Carelessness can get you killed."
"Yes, Papa," I answered contritely.
"Kill them both, David," the Reverend screamed at the 
second man.
"You really should have listened to our son," 
answered the second man as he came over to untie me. 
"And you really shouldn't have tortured him." 
I'll be damned, I thought. The second man is Mama.  I 
had never seen her put on a male form before.  She was 
good.  She was also pissed.
"What a day," said Papa as he took off his clothes.  
"All this and you missed baseball practice too."
"No big deal," I said.
"Considering how low your batting average is, I don't 
agree."
Then he turned toward the Reverend and began to 
change.
"You see, Reverend," I said.  We don't look anything 
like a wolf.
Dennis Tallent
© 1997

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