WOLF - pt.12
#12 of WOLF
Part 12....comment, rate, favourite...and good night~
Cavernous. That's how I'd describe the auditorium. Row after row of seats took up almost three quarters of the collossal room. It accommodated the entire student body. It was obvious who was brainwashed by Linus and who wasn't. The student body was an unhealthy mixture of excited looking students, and anxious looking initiates. I was less concerned with the other students though, and more worried about the stage up front.
It should have been Linus I was watching, but it wasn't.
It was the scaled, hulking mass that was huddled on the floor of the stage, breathing heavily and situated a few feet from the weresnake.
Linus smiled wide as he addressed us.
Suited men and women stood around the seated students. All of them stank of wolf. These had to be the werewolves that Lian and Miles had warned me about.
The one standing at the end of our row of seats seemed particularly interested in me. He watched me with alien amber eyes as he grinned. I ignored him, but knew he was leaning back against the auditorium wall, as he perched on his haunches. Long, black hair was scraped back in a ponytail that spilled down his back and mingled with the black, tailored suit.
"I see you've noticed Broderic checking you out?" Lian whispered beside me.
He and Miles sat on either side of me as Linus began to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen. I have brought you here tonight because I believe you all need a brief reminder of why you should never mess with an animal bigger and stronger than yourselves. Those of you who have been initiated understand this...law well, but there are still some who seem Hell bent on rebelling against the help and rehabilitation I have offered," Linus explained, with an ingenuine grimace.
Was Linus looking right at me? Or was I imagining things?
I shook it off as Linus continued.
"I would like to introduce you to Isaiah Kaplan." He gestured without looking to the huddled, scaled mass as a deep, low growl escaped its form. A heavy blackened claw reached out in pain and struck the stage floor. The mass uncurled itself and huddled back on its knees. It wrapped muscular arms around its middle as its maw opened wide and rows of sharp fanged teeth were revealed.
A low, deep bellow of agony rang out as its yellow eyes stared at the students unfocused and maddened with pain.
The scales began to fade. The muscles shrank. Its face reformed in an orchestra of bones popping and snapping back into place. Its thick, long tail shrank and spilled back into the man's lower back. He fell forward onto his forearms and panted, exhausted with pain.
The SD had worn off it seemed.
He stood at around six foot seven. The tallest man I'd ever seen. In his mid-twenties, he was young, good looking even. Skin tanned dark and eyes a pale, pale green. His hair was cut short to his head and coloured a faded brown. His body was muscular, a smooth expanse of chest and a narrow waist. His muscles twitched with each movement.
I was starting to recognise the aftereffects of SD without anyone's indication.
The youth named Isaiah looked around and focused on Linus. His eyes switched from confused to rage in a heartbeat.
He went to stand but collapsed back to his knees, groaning with aches and pains that riddled his form.
"Isaiah here did something very, very foolish earlier. So much so that I decided it would be right to demonstrate to you all what happens when someone tries to ambush me when I am trying so hard to help them."
Linus grinned and reached into his jacket. He pulled a nickel-plated 9mm handgun from inside and pulled back on the slide, chambering a round.
Great, I thought, not only could the mad bastard become an eight-foot-tall sadistic man-snake, he also knew how to wield a gun!
Linus smiled. "I have one rule, children: do NOT fuck with me!"
He pointed the gun at Isaiah without taking his eyes away from the audience, away from me. He pulled the trigger and fired again and again. The first bullet tore into Isaiah's shoulder, it forced Isaiah to stagger backward to his feet, he trembled as the next bullet cut into his calf. The next hit his right pectoral. The next hit his forearm. Fourteen shots later and Isaiah was riddled. He wavered as blood splattered the stage he stood on.
I was shaking. Not with fear, but rage.
Lian gripped my wrist as my hands flexed again and again. "Do you want to end up in Linus' office again?" Lian growled.
Miles touched my other hand. I looked at him, taking my eyes away from the stage, and saw where Miles was looking this time. Broderic. Broderic was standing now, his eyes manic as he stared up at the stage, his long-fingered hand absent-mindedly massaging himself through the groin of his pants.
I heard gasps and looked back at the stage.
Linus had Isaiah by the throat with his free hand, as he touched the still-hot barrel of the gun to the young man's forehead.
He grinned and looked back at the audience. Back at me. He winked and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet rocked Isaiah. His green eyes went wide. He was thrown backward and collapsed in a bloodied heap, his blood pumped from the open wounds that had scattered his muscular, naked body.
He lay motionless for a heartbeat. Then suddenly his body convulsed as his flesh visibly worked each bullet out of his body in turn, leaving the head wound last.
He soon rolled over in the blood pool, his dark skin marred with that crimson wash, while he huddled there.
Linus pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of the gun, and then held it out for Luis to take from him obediantly. He returned to the podium, his face spattered with Isaiah's blood as he said, "Remember this lesson well and sweet dreams, kiddies."
The gathering was over. Sweet dreams? Yeah right.