Wolf Asylum (20 page)

“So, did you catch her?” Terri asked.

“She found us,” Kimbel replied. “I found Eddie in a small clearing. He had lost her. He was spinning around, looking frantically in every direction. Finally he sees me and shouts, ‘We had her, we bloody well had her!'”

* * * *

Edward Giddon twirled around like a child on a rainy day only he appeared frantic in his face. Excited and frightened there was little he could say. “Marta!” He screamed until his lungs were empty.

“Eddie!” Kimbel hollered. “You really think she's going to come now?”

“Where did it go, Sammy?” Giddon snapped back.

“Back to Hell, hopefully. Come on, let's get back to the car, we can report in once we get into cell phone range,” Kimbel suggested.

“What if we find Darwin? Maybe she'll return to him.”

Like a blast freezer the area around Edward Giddon frosted over causing an uncontrollable chatter in his teeth. Giddon only closed his eyes for a split second but he quickly found himself in a face to face encounter with Marta whom seemingly appeared out of thin air.

Marta wiggled her tongue like a snake and cocked her head slightly unnerving Giddon further. Mary was all but gone; Marta had returned to her institutionalized motif. Giddon cracked a disingenuous smile made of nothing more than nerves. He looked the creature in the eyes and saw nothing but malevolence and he knew then he would die, but he also found an odd contentment with it.

At her side was a large hairy beast with colored eyes who sat by idly and watched.

The demonic imp demanded saying nothing but Giddon could hear the command repeated in his mind, as though it was his own thought. The suggestion was wrong and every time Giddon thought in defiance, Marta screamed louder in his mind tearing down his self-determination.

Kimbel entered a cryogenic state, unable to move or talk. Images began to flash into his mind and he knew what he was seeing was the perversion Edward Giddon was being subjected to.

Giddon dropped to his knees, nearing his face to the un-groomed erogenous zone. Mesmerized and excited, he moved in. Slowly he found himself in the thicket of sweet and salty lips that he now desired more than anything. The tight little slash beckoned to him. Like walking into the light of death, he pushed his face into her crotch and began twisting his tongue in ways that seemed almost natural until he found the spot that made her tremble.

The imp quivered and quaked, silently asking questions only Giddon could hear.

“Oh, yes! More than anything!” Giddon mumbled through his oral actions.

A wave of sweat and a primal moan rolled through the trees.

“Every damn day!” He huffed to another unheard question as he came out for oxygen before diving in again.

Continuing his quest, he pushed his tongue into deeper regions until he found something that intrigued him. He wanted to stay and play. He massaged the foreign body, exploring the boundaries with each slow and methodical pass, probing the internal crevasse with intimate detail. His gentle moves made the creature purr and moisten; goose bumps raced across the exposed flesh.

Edward Giddon, high from the increasing sexual juices pouring down onto his face had lost all shame. His own tensions were building like a pressure gauge, with or without assistance he would explode soon enough himself.

It gasped in delight as the orgasm began.

Se Venire
! Echoed through Giddon like a chant briefly before his sexual perversion reasserted itself.

The quiver on his tongue set Giddon off. Erupting in his own pants he sucked in as much secretions as he could swallowing. Feeling euphoric Giddon drove his tickler in further and he collided with a tight barrier that he managed to slightly penetrate. Curious, he pushed harder still unloading his own seed in a torrent.

With his nose and mouth suctioned into the void, he momentarily assessed his need for oxygen but quickly decided he could push on for another moment or two.

His tongue wedged its way into the strict space conquering more of the forbidden zone. Soft ridges beyond the rift enticed him to explore further. The nibs and nubs clipped the edge of his culinary prod, nicking his tip and drawing a small amount of blood.

The sting in the slice startled him but the pain felt oddly enjoyable. He snorted and huffed trying to find the obscurity that had caught his explorer but it remained elusive. Realizing he would need more air and more time to delve into the nether regions he decided to retreat.

His mouth stayed in place and his nose was in permanent residence in the fur grove; his wheels of retreat immobilized. Breath becoming thin and unable to back away, his panic began.

Giddon grabbed the back of Marta's legs and dug in with his fingers. Chunks of skin ripped away and bunched up under his manicured nails. His clawing quickly became punching and slapping but Marta remained still and said nothing.

Feeling light-headed he was left with no choice. He began tugging his face away from her body, shredding his tongue from whatever had enclosed around its end. He could feel himself pulling away, breaking the seal around his face allowing a quick burst of oxygen to fill his lungs.

Pain began to build as he could feel his tongue tearing on whatever it had become hung up on. With his suffocation reduced the desire to pull away and rip apart his own tongue seemed ludicrous. His frantic tugs became a careful exercise in un-entanglement. The tight enclosure his tongue had pierced felt as though it was growing more constricted, adding further to his discomfort.

With one last breath, something felt as though it had coated his tongue, squeezed and began wrenching him forward into her folds. Again, he pulled back using his hands to brace himself against Marta's legs but when he could still feel his face sliding deeper, he threw his back into it for one, final thrust to break away.

Giddon lost, and instead of flying backwards the slash widened, its lips smacking and sticking to his face like an octopus killing a meal. With his head buried inside Marta's body, the rest of Edward Giddon flailed erratically in pure primal terror.

Kimbel looked on remaining motionless but screaming silently with a lone tear crossing his cheek.

His jaw tore off like the sound of a crisp apple being bitten into for the first time. A snappy pop signaled his release and Giddon was propelled onto his back with a gaping hole where his chin and jaw had once been.

If he could have screamed, he would have. The muscles to control his tongue were missing, and all his body was able to do was crackle like a suction tube at the dentist. Giddon hissed and coughed as blood from his open wound spackled with the rhythm of his heart.

Giddon put his hands to where his jaw should have been but only found the empty joint. He whined and gargled, swiftly moving into shock. He looked into the soft, pink entrance that had been so soothing and found himself once again enticed to enter the void. The pull it had over him could be described as nothing less than a spell.

Forgetting his missing chin, Giddon began scrambling to become one with the hole that had already bit him once.

Marta began to squat, opening up her cleft wider, exposing the rippling and dancing flesh bits. Inside the canal, the pinks became reds and reds became blacks the deeper inside he saw. A scent wafted out that was sharp like vinegar, yet still he was driven to move in closer.

Marta fell to her back and swung her legs over her head readying for Giddon's return who was now only a few feet away. He was lost and heading for a destination he could never return from nor could he stop himself. Like sliding on a hill covered in ice, all he could do was wait for the impact at the bottom.

She peeled open unnaturally like an overripe banana. From inside emerged a small, bloodied and hairless head with closed eyes and an infantile snout lined with tiny teeth. The thing moaned and grunted, wiggling lightly as it stretched from the womb. Once it caught a whiff of Giddon the thing lunged, snapping a powerful jaw that clamped onto its prey like a mouse trap.

Almost silently, other than the scuffs of his feet in the dirt, Giddon's skull snapped open as the thing clamped down bursting gray matter onto his back.

The creature slid back inside pulling the seized corpse along with it. The head, now significantly flattened compacted into the still relatively small space and disappeared. Marta's stomach began to expand outward as though she was bloating but as the belly filled, it would quickly deflate following a rhythm of chewing.

Marta lay on the ground rubbing her body and moaning as the creature inside her ate its fill. Both Marta and the remains of Giddon began a slow and perpetual sink into the ground as though they had been on quick sand. In seconds, they were gone and Kimbel could again move.

The large animal finally moved away receiving approval from his master. In one motion it grabbed the bearded chin and jaw of Edward Giddon and ran into the woods, leaving Kimbel alone with his fears.

The sound of a small child giggling filled the air as Kimbel ran off.

* * * *

“It happened!” he shouted.

“That's suppose to make me believe Mary is Marta?” Darwin replied with a scowl.

“Believe! Don't believe! Whatever you've done to your sister, you've set it in motion! I know now she's waited for this moment her whole life!” Kimbel yelled, hoping that saying his message louder would make him heard.

“Darwin!” Doctor Gagnon hollered. “I found that file you wanted. Strange stuff in it!”

Doctor Gagnon entered the room and handed over one picture of a carved back. The same letters over and over were sliced into the meat that would have been Catherine Chester.

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The letters went on, over and over again, filling the skin canvas.

Se Venire
.

The notion of coincidence was tossed out like soiled underwear. For hours the group sat around looking at the picture that was quite clearly Se venire carved into Catherine Chester's back. The woman had managed to etch the letters repeatedly, but using a mirror as her guide, the calligraphy was backwards.

Years before the lycans had taken control of New Haven, before Marta had stabbed her brother and before the forest made the first strike against the Foster family interests, a warning of Se Venire was present.

He is coming.

Darwin retreated to his old habits of burying his emotions. Outwardly, he wanted those around him to view him as strong; unmoved. The reality was he longed to be cocooned in his room, smoking weed and drinking, sinking away from the world. Avoidance was easier than confrontation.

Inside, he was beginning to panic.

Mary was Marta. He conceded that. Marta came home with the intent of seducing her own brother and becoming impregnated by him—which she apparently succeeded in doing. Whatever grew inside of her was growing rapidly and was clearly
Se Venire
, the same thing that Slade had warned of.

Darwin had been warned, but it was causing a conflict within him. Marta had been touched by the underworld at some point. She was not lycan, and it seemed possible she would not become one. She was something else.

If the underworld had touched her, why did his masters warn against her?

One truth existed that Darwin accepted. Slade was correct. There was a barrier between the two worlds and it was somewhere in the woods. Slade had also been correct in his belief that the more werewolves there were, the weaker the barrier between the two worlds became, at least that appeared to be the case.

The forest had something in it as far back as the night his brother Zack had seen a werewolf kill their father. The forest was full of trickery and capable of making people believe whatever it wanted to. It was obvious—the woods and what existed beyond the barrier were getting stronger.

Darwin had never worn the hat as leader like he would now. He had been the dictator, with his followers loyal to him as long as the flow of blood and meat continued. Defeated, and no longer caring what happened to him, Darwin had excused himself from the others only to make the solo journey back to what he believed was the gate. He wasn't sure what he would do when he arrived. Part of him was angry and wanted answers. Another part of him, the part buried deep inside, wanted to know why he had seen Steve and been able to feel his touch.

Darwin arrived at the double-humped rock with the base camp still erected nearby, completely abandoned. He walked around the rock, remembering the camping trip from his youth. He struggled to remember the night he had blocked out, or forgotten.

It was here where the forest first began. Was it that night?

Darwin marched a short distance into the trees near a large maple that he remembered his brother had hidden behind before disappearing. At the edge of the clearing, in daylight, the scene was unremarkable.

“What did you see, Zack?”

Years later, there was nothing left to see. The ground was green and nothing had been disturbed. Darwin had hoped being in the presence of the location would trigger his underworld cave session, but nothing happened.

The barn owl squawked from above, “
Whooo!
”

“Hey Hootie!” Darwin yelled. “You're up early!”

The owl bobbed and weaved his head as though he was watching something. The owl scoped with his big eyes ready to swoop in for his meal. Hootie said nothing more, only watching Darwin from above with his beak open.

“I'm here!” Darwin shouted to the still forest. His voice was quickly swallowed.

Three quick tones of monk blew through the woods at a distance. Darwin froze for a moment, his heart exploding in his chest releasing adrenaline that chilled his feet. What beckoned him frightened him. If they wanted him, they would take him. He had no plan, nothing beyond confronting whatever was waiting for New Haven.

He would do what he had never done before. He would stand up for himself and the people around him. He would cast off his fear and fight until there was no more fight to be had. It was a battle Darwin was prepared for. In his heart, he already sensed something was wrong; that he hadn't been told the entire truth.

I'm a fucking pawn!

He turned and left the maple tree and began running into the woods, towards Tim. He sprinted with no intention of stopping. He would keep moving until he found them or they took him.

If they wanted the fucking gate open they should have just asked!

Past the killing fields of Jason and Tina and onwards to the last place he had seen Tim; it was familiar and yet changed.

Where is the skid mark?

Standing in what he believed to be the spot, Darwin caught his breath and looked around. There were more poplars and the shrubs. The branches and leaves ruffled with each passing second, thickening the foliage. The clearing had scrapes on the ground and two disturbed rocks, but it still didn't seem right.

Darwin knelt down and touched the earth, hoping something would happen. He traced his finger through the small groove that had been left by his friend. It was as close to Steve as he could be and it pierced his heart.

“Where are my clothes?” he mumbled.

Picking up the rock he could see the blood stain on the underside; it seemed small and out of proportion considering the damage he had done to his hand.

“This is the place.”

“
Whoa!
” The monks blasted through ground, causing a light vibration in the sandy soil but not enough to rouse Darwin's attention. He stood up, partially scared but more apprehensive. It was time…it was near. The atmosphere soured like vomit inside a greenhouse and Darwin's skin became sticky with unease.

Another rumble from the belly of the Buddha jarred the ground. Darwin scanned the forest in every direction looking for the Monet effect but he could see nothing. The monks were everywhere and growing in strength and volume.

“I'm ready!”

Still, nothing more than curdled air and the driving sound existed.

The worst part was the
not
knowing of what was to come.

Darwin had sunk past his calves before he had noticed. The ground all around him had softened and pulverized in a large circular pattern to a fine powder that he was now settling into. Instinctively, Darwin tried to take a step only to find his feet completely immobilized, putting him off balance and forcing his body over into the sink hole.

The earth hardened its grip with each inch Darwin seized. He went limp, allowing the trumpeting monks to over-take him. Darwin disappeared from the real world, closing his windows as the grains of sand dried the crooks of his eyes.