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The Delivery

Written by Pierrot90, trade with BashTheDragon

"Our pack is too small. We must do something about it." The woman said after she sipped from her hot tea. "There are only three of us left and I'm sick of hunting and eating rabbits and rodents..." She sighed as she lay back on the lousy chair.

"I was waiting for quite a while for you to say this" The man with a cup of coffee on the opposite side of the table said. "We need to expand our pack."

"Are you serious?" She sat straight.

"Why not? It's the only way."

"You mean.... We're going to do it? But the other packs...."

The man ushered her down and clasped his hands. "We will contact the other packs and gather at the mansion. There we shall iterate the ancient ritual to welcome a new young pack member."

"Wow... It has been ages ago that we did the ritual. Let alone, using the mansion!" She gasped.

"We lycanthropes have been playing dead for centuries for our own sakes. We are still strong, silently. But our numbers are slowly dwindling because of accidents, war and unfortunate fates, withering away like corroding rocks next to a river. Over a century ago it was done at the mansion, next full moon it shall be done there again." He sighed. "It's time again."

"Pffft... save me the old speech. How are we going to do this? We need 'somebody' to be the new pack member!" She said as she put her cup down. "You are too old to know how the youth of nowadays think and act. Our lovely third pack member is too stupid to find one; he'd just kidnap some poor random victim from the streets. And I... well..." She lay back in her chair and smiled.

"Are you suggesting that you are able to find the proper candidate?" He asked surprised.

"Well... Not me actually. I know someone who can."

"Who is it? And can we trust him or her?"

"Let's just say he's a dragon spirit who knows some people..." She grinned.

"Can you sign here please?" Pierrot gave the doorman his rubber-coated tablet and a stylus pen who quickly signed it. "Thank you. That will be all. Goodbye!" Shoving the stylus pen back into its holder of the tablet after waving to the customer, he turned around and got into the van. The Scania van was new. It was only a few months old and was equipped with a modern track and trace system with which the office could monitor the speed and location of the van. Pierrot did not really mind. As a French exchange student, it was only a side job after all. College was a more important priority for him. But to be as quick as possible to deliver goods to earn quick money, he would make sure that he was just beneath the speed limit which would prevent showing a warning message at the office. Not that a warning message would matter a lot. He was good friends with the boss, a result of working at flexible times, doing night shifts, and good chatter. Which was quite unique actually, he could deem himself lucky to be able to work at a small family company while still going to college.

It was already past four 'o clock in the evening, this was Pierrot's last delivery as his shift was ending. It was then that his smartphone rang. "Pierre here. Ah bonsoir Bash!"

"Hey Pierrot, I have a question for ya'. I.... what is that noise in the background?"

"I am driving at the moment, mon ami!" Pierrot switched his phone to his other hand to able him handle the manual gear.

"Oh I'm sorry, you're still on your shift I guess?"

"Yes, I am."

"You shouldn't phone and drive man. It's dangerous ya know."

"Bwoaah... I will be fine. In any way, what for did you call me?"

"Oh yes, you still up for the crazy psychic evening tonight?"

Pierrot's face went sour. "I'm very sorry but I don't think I'm really in the mood today..."

"But you promised to come with your new girlfriend to live the new American dream?"

"It seemed that she was not all so serious about it. 'It was just for fun' she said."

"Are you serious? That bitch! I'll send her a cockroach plag... Never mind. You always seem to be unlucky with girls, don't you?"

"I know right, it is just... I don't know." Pierrot adjusted his phone. "They always think I am that cool European guy but actually I have never really felt confident or strong enough to... handle the women... I..." Pierrot saw a car bypassing him. The car was a sports version of a road car. He was probably driving too slow while phoning.

"Pierrot! Stop judging yourself dude!" Bash's voice screamed through the phone. "You know what? Come to the psychic evening tonight and I'll boost your self-confidence!"

"Wait, what? I don't need..." Then it dawned upon Pierrot that the car in front of him had some red words flashing on its rear window.

POLICE. FOLLOW.

"Merde!"

In the meantime Bash had continued babbling about his psychic evening. "... those awesome dragon spirits will... merde what?"

"Sorry Bash, I have to go!"

"Ok, but you'll come tonight, right?" But Pierrot had barely heard the last sentence as he quickly hung up and threw his smartphone in one of the cupholders. Reluctantly, he followed the 'civilian' patrol car to a side road.

"I have warned you about phoning while driving." Bash grinned, wiping aside a few brown curls from his face.

"Yes, I know..." Pierrot replied while Bash in his spiritual clothes returned his attention to his other guests who were leaving.

"That was AWESOME maaaaan! I was like, you know, like flying around man! This is better than getting high on weed. 'Cuz this... this is REALLY damn high! Flying high!" An older guy with dreadlocks slapped Bash's back.

"Ok, if you enjoyed the trip, please do come around again!" Bash shook his hand goodbye.

"I don't know how you do that dragonman. All that kind of weird voodoo shit. But this was definitely cool. When's the next session?"

"I don't know yet. I will ask the spirits in time. I'll let you know by then."

Pierrot noticed that Bash was busy with all the guests, so he decided to take a look around in the dusty attic since he had never visited Bash's place before.

The building had slanted roofs, so there was little place for furniture. Instead, a lot of intricate objects were hanging from the slanted ceiling. Pierrot guessed most of them were dreamcatchers, talismans, amulets, and dried weed. Some guests had to bend their heads in order not to bump against the objects or even the wooden beams. Only one side of the attic had a perpendicular wall and part of the roof. There was an old cupboard containing all kinds of bottles, pots, and surprisingly a few wine glasses and wine bottles. Next to it was a beautifully adorned mirror, the size of a person's length.

After inspecting the multiple strange smelling objects hanging from the ceiling and checking out the strange pots and bottles from the cupboard, his attention went to the mirror. The oval mirror was worn through the ages, and at several places it showed black or brown spots where the metal foil had got loose. Although the adorned metal frame of the mirror was rusty and the gold paint crusty, it still showed the grandeur and majesty from when it was still new. He wondered where Bash could have gotten such a beautiful piece of antic. He even would not be surprised if Bash got it from Europe even.

While pondering about it, he gazed at himself in the mirror. As any person, he was a bit a narcist; so he eyed himself. He looked good now. He had a haircut yesterday and it looked much better than before. For the rest, he saw his tired eyes behind his glasses. He made a note to himself to go to bed earlier. Then he noticed that there was a strange crack at eye's height of the mirror. Slowly he bent over to look at the crack.

Suddenly, he did not see his own eyes looking back at him. Yellow eyes from a large grey wolf head were staring back at him. Pierrot froze. What kind of sorcery was this?

Pierrot jerked when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Pierrot? The guests have left already."

Pierrot turned around to see Bash smiling at him.

"It's nice you were able to come by for a visit. Sorry that I had to lead out the guests first. Actually, it's a shame you missed out the psychic evening Pierrot. It would've been awesome for you to join." Bash shoved aside some cushions from the three old brown sofas in the middle of the room surrounding a wooden saloon table. "Please, take a seat." He gathered the multiple little bones which were adorned with runes from the table and put them in a small cloth sack. "Something to drink?"

"No thank you, I'm fine." Pierrot shook his head.

"You're sure? I have a bottle of veeeeery fine French wine opened already." He nodded towards the cupboard full of bottles, flasks, pots and boxes.

"What kind of stereotype do you think I am?" Pierrot chuckled. "But if it's French, I'll enjoy a small glass of wine please." He smiled. It was quite a while ago he had some real French wine. It was expensive here compared to the village where he came from.

Bash approached the cupboard took out the bottle, together with two wine glasses and another bottle with white wine. Then he returned to sit opposite of Pierrot. "So... why did you still decided to come?" He leaned over towards the saloon table to poor red wine in one of the glasses. "Not that you're not welcome of course."

"Well... I am not so sure if I could come, but I guessed I maybe could get some advice after all." Pierrot felt a bit uneasy about asking for help, a bit of his own pride always suffered a nudge when he did that.

"Heeey, no problem at all. I'm all ears." He uncorked the bottle of white wine and poured a glass for himself. "I like helping people and giving advice. As a spiritual man of course. Here you go." He passed the glass of red wine to Pierrot.

"Thank you. Santé." He hefted his glass with red wine to Bash's glass with white wine and took a sip. The red wine was still quite young and tasted crisp and sharp. He picked up the bottle to inspect it. "Chateau Montillac 2009. Good year. Hmm, and it tastes nice. I will have to remind myself to buy a few to take to the States when I get back to France to visit my relatives." He said while he made circular motions with the glass to leave a smooth horizontal line on the inside of the glass above the wine. He noticed the perfect lines flowing downwards from the line. Then he picked up the bottle of white wine from which Bash was drinking. "Non-alcoholic bubbles?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah... I'm still underage you know." Bash replied while taking a sip from his bubbles.

"Oh, I see." Pierrot suddenly felt embarrassed. He was asking a much younger person for advice. Advice about women on top of that. There he was, a French citoyen, asking an American kid advice on flirting? That was simply outrageous; he felt he was a disgrace for France itself, le pays de l'amour... Besides that, Bash probably knew much more about life than himself, not even considering his freaky knowledge about spirituality.

"In any way, you want to stay in the US, so you will have to learn some things about Americans as well besides English." Bash changed subject.

"That they are rude?" Pierrot laughed, desperately trying to keep his pride of being French.

"Well... it works with the girls. It depends on what kind of girl of course; I think it is like that all over the world."

Thinking of it, Pierrot had not been successful in his own country before either, only keeping to his small circle of friends. He had slowly grown sad because of the lack of a companion.

"But it is not rudeness which will get you results. What I think you're lacking is self-confidence, maybe even some self-respect or self-knowledge." Bash leaned back. "If you'd join a few of my sessions 'Knowing yourself and your spirit', it would help you a lot."

"No thank you. I do not really believe in spirits and ghosts. Thank you for the offer though. At least I know that I should work on my self-confidence."

"No problem. I was..."

"Bash! Clean up your toys from the table! And what kind of things are you drinking, boy?!" From the creaky stairs, Bash's mother rushed into the attic unannounced.

"Mum! I'm busy! Can't you see that?!" Bash whined.

"Oh don't you dare give me the 'I'm busy'-talk! You ain't no old enough for alcohol. If your dad would know about this he will have you skinned!" She grabbed the bottle of red wine. "Cheetah mont... Hell, this... this expensive gourmet thing I can't pronounce; where in the name of God did you get this from?!"

"But mum! I'm not drinking it! I'm just having non-alcoholic bubbles!" Bash quickly pointed at the other bottle. "My guest is drinking the red wine."

Bash's mum faced Pierrot. "I'm terribly sorry hun, I don't know where my boy got this from. I think it's better you take the whole bottle with you when you're leaving."

"Don't worry madame, I will make sure of it." Pierrot replied.

"Ooooh, you're French? Bash! Why don't you ever tell me we have foreign guests down here? You should show them some hospitality."

"MUM!"

"Don't worry mademoiselle, I am fine. Your son is an excellent host." Pierrot smiled.

The mother placed her hands on her chest. "Thank God that I've taught my boy some manners. If you need anything, just call. I baked some fresh brownies this afternoon."

"We'll be fine mum. Could you pleeeeaase leave now?" Bash annoyingly ushered her mother out of the attic while she waved goodbye.

"Thank God she's gone... mothers..." Bash sighed when he dropped himself on the sofa.

"Hehe, very recognizable. But I think I will be leaving now. I still have some homework due this end of week." Pierrot apologized.

"Wait! Could you do me a favor?"

"Depends on."

"You work at that delivery company, right?"

"Yes..."

"Could you deliver something for me this Saturday?" Bash looked at Pierrot beggingly.

"So, what for did you wanna use it again?" The burly man, wearing a checkers shirt, sat behind the badly lit desk in a lush chair. The pale hue from street light peered through the blinds behind him.

"To deliver some goods." Pierrot already regretted accepting doing a favor for Bash. But he could hardly refuse after his help. He had few friends besides him after all.

"What kind of goods?"

"Uh... I think he talked about a lot of food."

"Food for consumption? Fresh food? Dog food? What kind of food?"

"I don't know. He just said it was a lot of food."

"Well... I'm not sure about this pal. If it were boxes of dry noodles, it'd be fine. But if you're transporting containers of... let's say, chicken. Chances are, that it's gonna make a hell of a mess. Especially for things which needs cooling, and I don't have no trucks with cooling."

"Sorry boss, just trying to help out someone." Pierrot pleaded.

"Fine. But you won't get to take one of the new ones out. I'll lend you thé old one."

"Thé old one?"

"Yup, I'll show you." The boss glanced outside. "I'm glad it has stopped raining for now."

"Say hello to thé old van!" Pierrot's boss spread out his arms to present a rusty old white Mercedes MB 100 D van. His eyes were sparkling of pride. "I've personally drove this beauty for years when I started the company."

"How old is it actually?" Pierrot asked, eying the spots of rust at the corners and roof rails.

"I dunno, I think it's at least 20 years old. This baby has done quite some miles. Let's see for ourselves." He unlocked the door and let Pierrot sit inside. "Now you should remember a few things about this van, 'cuz he has some strange habits."

"Strange habits?" Pierrot wondered if this thing could drive at all.

"Yes, the ignition, axles, brakes, and the locks."

"That is a lot..." Pierrot looked distrustful at the dashboard. The black dull dashboard was covered in dust.

"Yup, let's start with the ignition. You see that orange coil icon on the dashboard? Turn the ignition until the icon doesn't light any more, this usually takes half a minute. Try it."

Pierrot patiently waited until the icon turned off and then started the engine. It barely started.

"Don't worry about it too much. This oldie has been standing still for a while. It just needs a trip to charge its battery. Now, for the axles; the original tires are out of production, so these tires are actually too big and too heavy for this van. The axles take quite a strain from it, so try to go easy through bends and bumps."

Pierrot nodded.

"This van has no ABS, so whenever you're realizing you're skidding; try to brake with a pumping movement. Show me." He paused to watch Pierrot applying the brakes properly. "Good, finally the locks. The door at the driver's side is broken and can only be opened with the key from the outside, whether locked or unlocked. Speaking of which, these are all old fashioned locks, you'll have to lock every single one with your key if you're leaving the vehicle. Understood?"

"You said it boss."

"Allright, it's yours for the evening." He slapped Pierrot's back and handed him the keys.

It was pouring during this dark evening.

The screen wipers barely did its job as the rubber had dried out because of years of neglect.

However Pierrot was still glad that he got this old van. The van stank of three huge carcasses of two cows and one pig, wrapped and sealed in plastic. He doubted that the stench would ever leave this van again. He was surprised in the first place when he picked up his goods at the slaughterhouse that it was THAT much. It was at least half a ton. Bash said it was a lot, a lot of food. But Pierrot did not deem this meat edible in any way. It was going bad already in the uncooled van. He could not believe that Americans would use such bad quality food for a barbeque, a big barbeque at that. Also, keeping a barbeque in this weather? This must have been a joke. Pierrot wondered what the hell this load of reeking meat was for, but above all for whom.

Soon, the van was driving on a desolate country road. The worn tarmac was littered with potholes, and the leaf springs of the van took a beating. The road was not lit, so it was hard for Pierrot to find his destination. The GPS navigation however showed that it was not far after driving over a bridge. Oblivious to Pierrot, the small bridge crossed a wide river with strong torrents from the continuous rain.

After driving down the road and back without results, and the GPS navigation sending him everywhere but his destination, he took out his smartphone to open whatsapp to ask Bash. 'Where exactly is this place? ...' He typed while the van slowly crept along the road. A pothole caused him to drop his smartphone however. "Merde..." It had dropped in a small crate next to his seat. "Zute alors..." The crate was filled with protections gloves, a flashlight, a tire wrench, a jack, a metal pipe for leverage, and some rubbish. It seemed like it had been used in the past since it was all dirty and oily. Cursing, Pierrot found his smartphone behind the metal pipe. The screen was now dirty and oily as well, but he ignored it as he read Bash's reply: 'There should be a sign at the left side of the road, then follow a gravel road into the woods. It's quite a distance.'

Not long after, Pierrot spotted an old stone sign next to a ditch. Then he noticed the neglected road. No wonder he had not noticed it before as it was grown over with weed. Pierrot stared at the sign. He could barely read what was on the stone. He did want to be sure if he was at the right place; the dirt road did not seem used often any way. Reluctantly he put on his rain jacket, grabbed the flashlight and exited the van.

LUNAR MANSION

He who enters

Fear yourself

For the moon

Shall awaken you

Pierrot grinned. This place was probably one of Bash's weird 'spiritual' friends. Pierrot pushed the button in the handle of the door, but the button got stuck. He forgot that this lock was broken and the key was still in the ignition. So he used the passenger's door and clambered to his seat through, making the seats muddy. At least the rain was reduced to a drizzle.

He put it in gear and, careful to avoid the ditches, slowly followed the neglected gravel road into the woods. After a few bends a magnificent building appeared in the distance. The mansion was simply huge. Its dark silhouette loomed over the vast garden in front of it. Only the large spiked gates were in front of the gardens.

The gate was closed. Stopping the van, Pierrot stepped out, making sure to leave the door opened. The two door gate was made of black metal bars, which had pointy arrows at the top. The hinges were attached to grey stone posts. At the top of the gate were the adroned metal words LUNAR MANSION. For the rest, ivy had overgrown the metal gate partly. Only the left gate seemed to have been used recently. The dead ropes of ivy still lay on the ground.

Pierrot exited the van (making sure not closing the door) and approached the gate. Besides the plants growing from the gap for post and letters, he could not find a bell, button, or whatever. Sighing, he went back into the van and was about to sound the horn when he could see a light appearing in the center of the mansion; the main entrance had opened. Seeing a silhouette moving towards the gate, he approached the gate again.

A young man in a black rain coat unlocked the gate. "We've been expecting you."

"Yes I hoped for that. My van is not cooled and the meat is going bad already." Pierrot noted. He hoped that he did not need to carry any of the carcasses.

"I know." The man replied shortly.

"Just a question, what do you need all this meat for?" Pierrot asked, but the man ignored him.

The man swung open the left gate and walked back towards the mansion. "Drive your vehicle up to the main entrance."

Pierrot decided he found the guy creepy. He quickly got back in the van and slowly drove down the loose once white pebble path. At the entrance he turned the van so that the rear was turned towards the door for quicker unloading.

"Open the rear door and help us unload." The man commanded.

Since it was not raining any more, he left his jacket in the van and closed the door, playing with the keys until he was at the rear doors of the van. He opened the doors, then turned around to ask the guy where all the cargo had to go. Surprisingly, the guy had disappeared.

"Hello? Excuse me?" Pierrot called out, while putting the keys in his pocket.

There was no response.

"Hello? ..." He tried again. Maybe the guy had gone inside to fetch help carrying the carcasses. The carcasses were heavy after all. Pierrot hesitated a moment before closing the doors and entering the mansion.

"Mon Dieu..." Pierrot gasped at seeing the large main hall. There were doors at both sides, another big door at the end, and two large stairs at both sides going to the next floor. The floor was made of wood and the stairs were made of expensive varnished wood. However, the wood was neglected and showed multiple cracks and mold from humidity. From the high ceiling, a large gold and crystal chandelier hung between the two stairs. Most of the light bulbs did not work anymore, and only a few bulbs lit the large hall.

Stepping inside, the wooden floor creaked under his feet. "Hello? Mister?" Pierrot called out again.

No response again.

Pierrot rested his hands in his hips and sighed.

Suddenly he heard a creak behind him. Before he had the chance to turn around, a moist piece of cloth which reeked strongly was wrapped on his mouth. Pierrot tried to pull the cloth away but to no avail. Strong hands held the cloth in place and very soon Pierrot lost consciousness.

"... a long time our race has existed. For a long time our numbers dwindled. Tonight is the moment where we will start expanding in numbers again. Tonight we shall welcome our new pack member..."

Pierrot groggily opened his eyes. "Where... am I?" He moaned. He wanted to rub his face, but then noticed her hands could not move. Immediately, he remembered what happened. Chloroform!

"Our guest is awake." A voice echoed through the large room.

"What the hell?!" Pierrot exclaimed, looking at his hands and feet. He was strapped tight with rusty metal shackles onto a large heavy wooden table. The table was lifted half way by a mechanism, which raised his head and allowed him to see that he was at the end of one very long dining table. The room was dark, except for the moon light shining through a large glass ceiling. The glass ceiling was cracked, and small droplets of water dripped onto the floor next to him. The dining table was filled with the three carcasses. On both sides of the table, people hooded in black robes sat. At the end of the dining table, there was one person standing, along with Pierrot's phone, wallet, and car keys, on the table. The person had his hood down. Pierrot recognized the guy from moments earlier. "You!! What the hell is the meaning of this??!" Pierrot shouted at the man at the other end of the table. The dark figures at both sides of the table mumbled along each other.

"Calm down my friend. You shall soon join us." The man spoke confidently.

"Friend?! Let me loose so that I can show you what kind of friend I am!"

"Is that so?"

"Let me go you bastard! I don't want anything to do with your... with your sadistic rituals!" Pierrot exclaimed while rattling his shackles. He was already cursing Bash for getting into this mess.

"Not yet, not yet... After our lycanthropic transformation, it will be your turn to release your inner wolf spirit for the first time. Then you shall transform as well and join us devouring this meal you had brought."

"What?!" Pierrot was stunned.

"This feast is for you. I have invited all our pack members. You are our special guest. Pierrot." The man gestured towards him.

"Wait what?! And how do you know my name??!"

"That is not of importance. For the ritual shall begin very soon." The man raised his arms towards the glass ceiling, and started shivering. The light of the full moon was now shining brightly onto everyone in the room.

"What the hell..." Pierrot watched aghast at the members at the table. All started shaking and moaning. Cracking noises sounded from their bodies as Pierrot could see the hooded figures moving, shaking, and deforming in the moonlight. The leader had wrapped his arms around himself and fell to his seat. Most disturbing of it all, was that it sounded like they were enjoying it.

"Mon Dieu! I must get out of here!" Pierrot panicked. Suddenly he felt that the shackle of his right hand was a bit loose. Then it dawned upon him; in all those years, the water drops from the cracked glass ceiling had made the once hard wood soft. The wood had been soaking up all the moist and had even started molding. Pulling with all his might, the pin which was embedded in the wood let loose. "YES!!" Quickly he undid himself of the shackles while now and then taking glances at the growing robed figures. It seemed like they were growing huge. Some of them were already trying to tear their robes apart. He had to act fast.

He threw the shackles on the floor and turned around to run. But then he noticed there was no door behind him; there was only one door, which was at the other end of the table. He ran past the groaning figures. A few of them were eying Pierrot with yellow eyes from their hoods as Pierrot grabbed his belongings from the table, just waiting until their spasms ended so that they could give chase to their prey.

"Putain!" Pierrot swore as he raced through the dark corridors. He could hear the first howls which were coming from the dining room. Pierrot panted as he rounded another corner. While running, he was already trying to dial 911, but for now he had absolutely no idea where he was going. He could already hear the panting, and the numerous clicking and heavy thumps of canine claws skidding over the creaking wooden floors. It sounded like a bunch of heavy monstrosities was chasing him, except in Pierrot's mind they seemed even larger and more horrifying. At least his sneakers had much better grip.

"9.... 1.... No! Not 4 you conard!" Pierrot swore as he tried to correct the wrong number. However it was hard to do so as he was still sprinting, sometimes randomly choosing left and then right again at T-crossings. Pierrot knew he was finished for if he could not escape in the first place, whether he managed to dial 911 or not.

Finally he ended running through a long corridor with one side numerous doors, and the other side narrow windows. As he passed a pair of standing chandeliers, he stopped and ran back to the chandeliers. Pierrot had an idea, he quickly pocketed his phone.

He picked up the heavy steel chandelier and crashed it through one of the narrow windows. The old glass shattered, leaving the chandelier hanging onto the window post. Suddenly he could already see shadows from his chasers at the end of the corridor.

"Oh putain de merde!!" Pierrot panicked and quickly climbed through the window. Not too late, because when he climbed through; something jumped at window, but only succeeded in taking the chandelier with it. The chandelier however ripped through the pants of Pierrot. "AARGH!" Pierrot fell into a muddy puddle which was filled with glass shards. A flurry of muscle and fur tried to push themselves through the narrow window but failed. They only could snap and snarl at Pierrot who was lying there outside. His body too much engorged with adrenaline, Pierrot ignored the pain stabbing at his leg and limped as quickly as possible around the mansion. The furred muzzles with glistening fangs retreated from the window. Pierrot figured that they would be heading towards the main entrance. He had to be there first. The old van at the entrance was his only means of escape now.

Bash stared at the screen of his smartphone. The screen was emitting a white-blue hue under his bed sheets. He could not get to sleep without pondering about where he had sent Pierrot into.

'There should be a sign at the left side of the road, then follow a gravel road into the woods. It's quite a distance.'

It was the last thing he had sent to Pierrot hours ago. Has it already happened by now? Was it over? Should he have warned him actually? Should he have asked for his consent?

Bash kept feeling guilty. In all his life, he had never set up a friend. And now he had done this! Well, it was still a favor for other friends, powerful friends definitely. He was doing Pierrot a favor too, Pierrot wanted to be powerful, right?

In his little cove, Bash looked at the time. It was well past 1 AM right now. Pierrot must have discovered the plot by now. He decided it would ease his consciousness a lot if he called Pierrot, explained what it all meant, and apologized for what he had done.

Finding Pierrot's telephone number, he pressed the green button to call him.

Pierrot shivered as he hid in some bushes nearby the front corner of the mansion. The chandelier had not only ripped his jeans, but it had also cut a nasty gash into his leg. They will soon smell his blood and find him._Carefully peeking through the wet leaves, he could see two huge silhouettes standing next to his van. _They knew it was his only way out.

Without being able to come up with a solution, Pierrot grabbed his phone to call 911. However, surprisingly his phone was nowhere to be found... He glanced at the warm dark blood staining the ripped pocket of his jeans...

Suddenly the ears of the two beasts perked up. Without hesitation they howled, signaling the others. The howl reverberated through the area, as Pierrot could see the others joining them to run to the back of the mansion.

Only when they finished howling, Pierrot could hear what the two guarding his van had heard. Near the broken window, his Stromae - Papaoutai ringtone was blaring from his smartphone.

"Quelle chance! Where is your daddy now imbéciles!" Pierrot smirked as he left the bushes and quickly limped towards his van. Failing to open the door with the handle, he messed around with the key, trying to get the key into the keyhole with his bloody hands.

Finally being able to open the handle, he quickly he entered the van and swung the door shut. Just in time, as only a fraction of a moment after the door slammed shut, a heavy weight crashed into the door. The van rocked to the right of the impact, and the door window cracked.

"What?.... What the hell was that??!" Pierrot exclaimed.

As an answer, immediately a slick snout and tongue was pressed against the cracked glass. He could see the canine gleaming yellow eyes staring at him. Once the heavy breathing of the beast dampened the cracked glass and obscured the view, it disappeared with a low growl.

"Oh shit I have to get out of here...." Pierrot whimpered as he was looking for the ignition to jab the wet and bloody key in. He even panicked more when he heard the clicking of the handle. Although it was not locked, he was glad that it was broken... "Shit shit shit.... I don't want to die...."

Suddenly, the van heeled to the left. It started rocking left and right again as the beast pulled at the handle with all his power. "What the...." Surprised from the rocking, the key slipped out of Pierrot's hands into the crate full of tools. "Oh incroyable..." He moaned as he dug into the crate to find the key between the tools. Once he barely could grasp it, the key slipped out his hands again. "Why??!!" He cried out frustrated.

The rocking of the van stopped with a loud crack. Pierrot heard something heavy landing on the moist ground. The handle must've broken off... He had to be quick now. Without the rocking, it was easy for him to find the key now. Seeing the ignition from when he was bending down to find the key, he jammed the key into it and turned.

"Orange spool... orange spool... Dépêche-toi!" He stared and waited at the burning orange coil icon on the dashboard. To his dismay, he heard angry growling from outside. The growling only intensified as more heavy bass voiced growls were sounding around the van. The icon turned off. Without hesitation, Pierrot turned the ignition and the van came to life. The growls changed immediately in snarls. The van jerked as several beasts rammed into it and even jumped on it. Pierrot hit the gas pedal and the van lurched forwards.

Pierrot felt a bit safer now that he had the van racing towards the gate. But then a furred clawed hand was clutching his left mirror. "Waaaargh!!" He screamed as he saw a grinning muzzle full of large canine teeth glaring at him. Clawed digits pierced through the cracked glass at the side, grabbing the door post.

But that was not all, as he heard metal thumps of claws digging through the roof above him letting Pierrot to see the dents. Also, in his center mirror he could see several wolves chasing him.

Ignoring all those facts, Pierrot focused on the metal gate; it was still closed and locked. He pressed the pedal as hard as he could, and with a loud bang the van crashed through the gate. The gate doors flew open to the side and a painful yelp came from his left. A quick glance to the left showed that the werewolf was gone, as well as his left mirror. Pierrot sighed of relief; he would be able to outdrive the other beasts chasing him.

The moment was short-lived however as the second werewolf was still holding dear on the roof. Concentrating at the gravel road, Pierrot looked for every wide pieces of the road to veer to the left and right in attempt to lose the unwelcome hitchhiker.

It failed however, and instead he started losing control of the van. He yanked the non-powered steering wheel as he tried to stabilize the vehicle. Then the headlights showed a sharp bend ahead. Pierrot immediately hit the brakes, but it only resulted in making the van skid. "AAARGH!!!" He yelled as he saw a small tree approaching. Luckily, the vehicle had lost a lot of speed, but the impact still wrecked the right front of the van.

BANG!!!

Pierrot flew into the steering wheel from the impact and left him wheezing for air. His chest was on fire and he had difficulty breathing. Looking up though the windscreen which was cracked now as well, he saw a heap of muscle and fur lit by one headlight. The wolf from the roof had been launched to the front of the van of which the engine had now stalled.

It was stirring. Moaning, Pierrot forced himself to sit back down in his seat. Still clutching his chest with his left hand and squinting of pain, his right hand searched the ignition. Turning it again, the orange spool lit up again amongst multiple other warning lights.

Out of nowhere, he heard the sound of heavy padding besides the van. Two large werewolves, easily half his size bigger and definitely more tough looking, appeared in view of the headlight, they helped up their fallen comrade. Once he was standing proud, the three stared at the dark confinement of the van. Pierrot froze. He had never had such a clear view of what was actually hunting him. The one that was on his roof was a dark brown furred wolf. The two others were a mix of grey and white. They were all standing on their hind paws, muscles taut under their thick pelt. Their ears and tails were pointing upwards, their shackles raised. Except the brown wolf, its ears were folded backwards and its tail tucked between its digitigrade legs; it was in pain. But most compelling and frightening as well, was that they were all staring at Pierrot. He knew they could not see him as they were blinded by the only still working headlight.

The pain in his chest reminded him he was still not safe yet. He turned the ignition, and after a few technically bad-sounding whines, the engine started. He could see the wolves lowering to their hunches and snarling. Other wolves started to appear too. He quickly put it in reverse and drove backwards. Then he put it in gear and revved. The vehicle lurched forward once more, but a rhythmic CLUNK sounded from the right front side. The crash had him worried that it would not drive no more, but so far it was still functioning. Also, surprisingly he heard no sounds of beast trying to grab hold of the van. Probably they had learned their lessons not to mess with a Frenchman. He thought.

Not soon after, he passed the stone sign and veered onto the tarmac road. Still not self-assured enough to drive slower, he revved the engine. The vehicle responded in faster and louder CLUNK-noises and sporadic tugging the steering wheel to the right.

The GPS navigation was not switched on, but he still remembered that he crossed a bridge. Still going at an unhealthy pace for the limb vehicle, he checked his rear mirror if they were still chasing him. The mirror only showed darkness. Ahead, he could already see the bridge in the faint light of one headlight.

The clunking noises got louder, and the steering wheel started to jerk and pull to the right more powerful. Wincing, he noted to himself: "I'm afraid it's going to break down sooner or later, I should slow..."

He was interrupted as a loud crack sounded from the front right wheel base. Suddenly the van veered to the right. He tried to pull the steering wheel to the left, but to no avail.

To Pierrot's horror, the van crashed through a wooden railing and toppled down into the dark abyss of water. A loud splash and a drowning engine sounded. Once more Pierrot crashed into the steering wheel, but he also hit his head against the windscreen. Barely conscious and again his chest crying for air, he felt the cold water seeping his torn jeans, the cold water mixing with the warm dark crimson blood. Not much later, the cabin was almost fully flooded. Pierrot felt his mind clinging onto life while the cold dark water surrounded him and reached his numb face.

To be continued...

What happens next? Drowning? Torn to pieces? Transformation? etc...etc... I could even make the ending adult lol >////<

You decide what the end will be!

Comment with your choice!

I will then finish the story with the best ending.