Todd - Preview

    If any evidence had been present, the rain had long washed it away from the scene. The carnage was immense in that the man’s abdomen and throat no longer existed. The smallest of the tattered remnants of the flesh having flowed down flooded sidewalks into the undergrounds. Even the most fussy of rats in the French sewers wouldn’t be able to resist a victim of such misfortune. This, I thought, could have been avoided, had the Gods of the weather decided to favor my being, and the district police had attempted to be more fragile with the murder. I found great pain in constructing an investigation with no proof that it even needed to be looked into, other than the missing organs. This was only one of many mysterious deaths, though, that I had covered over the course of three months. But each time, the wicked creature who assaulted them removed the throat then devoured their innards. Hungry for the average man, woman, and even on the rare occasion, a child. Until then I had been stationed in Germany, and England, working the more rural of the feastings. It wasn’t at all pleasant, but not everyone was cut out for the blood and gore of the most obscure minds in Europe.
    The area around the cadaver was like most of the city, full of depressed shadows, and puddles that spilled over from the barely hesitant clouds. Steam bellowed from the ever-watching line of factories, drifting up into the darkening sky to give the illusion of a new wave of darkness. It was under that shaded mass that I searched around the body. A disadvantage to a murder in the city was that drains ate everything necessary for my work. And I knew for sure that a man near thirty wasn’t going to fit through a hollow made for a three-year-old child. I squatted next to the head of the man, his eyes open with that unanswerable look of despair and terror. I cocked my head at this, far to use to death to feel strong emotion for the poor man. My mind troubled, but not by the current victim. The case itself was a strange one, even for me, and at the time, I had been through over thirty supernatural investigations in my career. None, though, rivaled this one.
    My thoughts left me with a sigh, and I stood to turn and face the flock of policemen who had found the scene. Among them stood my own partner, who was too consumed with looking dashing for the onlookers behind the rope to help with the current task. He managed words but I sensed that he was only putting on a good show.
    “Another wolf attack?” Andre questioned, taking a few steps forward. To anyone that saw him, he was obviously out of place. Silver hair, lilac eyes that danced with childishness. Typical werewolf features, but lacking the wild instinct in untamed Therians. This didn’t ease my worries though. Werewolves were not meant to be tamed or kept as trinkets of society. No matter how protective they were as officers. They deserved to be locked away.
    “Looks like it,” I concluded, slipping my hands into my coat pockets. “Same as the other victims I’ve looked at. So I can be sure it was the same beast who murdered him.” A few skeptics gave hushed whispers, and immediately Andre’s stare didn’t settle well with me. Unlike most of his kind, he despised the thought of being a fairy tale. It made him feel less real to himself. Obviously, his ego had its weak points.
    I could already imagine the insults towards the crowd, when a deafening howl broke out from a distance away from where Andre and I stood. The fair-haired man was already jumping the rope, and sprinting in the direction of the screech. Gun drawn, and ready to shoot whatever had burdened his ears.
    “Tod, it’s him!” the Belgium huffed, continuing away from me. Stunned, I was slow to follow him but once the initial thought of that it could all be over came to me, I was no different from a hound stalking a hare. Leaving the crowded street behind, I followed the steaming Therian, hearing cries and a sudden crash from afar. We both turned a corner only to be greeted by two, less human, bodies.
    A horse drawing a carriage lay on its side, oozing red nectar from its neck. The wagon was in shambles, the people inside, if any, having fled before the attack. My eyes left the lifeless steed, and rested on the shoulders of our suspect. His body was most human like, while the face had gained the wolf-like features. The massive jaws of the beast munched, and cracked through the vertebrate of his new prey. Andre’s face twisted into a cocky grimace, gesturing the gun at him as if it was a part of his hand.
    “Show your face,” he demanded, shaking the weapon. “That way I can enjoy getting rid of you.”
    The Were lifted his head from his second helping, bringing himself up onto his back legs to stand a whole two feet taller than Andre and I. Those green eyes slid into a glare, but ignored Andre’s presence while acknowledging mine. The fur along his back bristled, bearing his teeth at Andre’s gun before roaring into our faces. I had drawn my gun by the time Andre prepared to fire his own. It was strange in that the werewolf didn’t seem afraid. More like amused that Andre stood up to him. He grunted, sinking back down to be on his hands and feet, submissive in his choice before turning hide to us and making a break for an empty area. Andre fired first, and then I followed twice. The left over powder flew back to hit my chin, and left an unpleasant faint taste on my lips.
    The wolf staggered, Andre’s bullet hitting his right shoulder, while mine landed in the opposite arm and leg. None of the bullets left his body. The beast let out another sound, this time of injury rather than enjoyment. I watched as his body twisted, bones snapped into an almost unfamiliar form and the whimpers of a man in distress became audible under the growls of a wolf. Andre’s gun remained raised, but my hand could no longer hold the metal and released it. It hit the ground but my ears never registered the sound. I was too busy staring, wide eyed at the new being in front of us.
    This man’s faded green stare, and messy dark hair sent shivers through my spine with remembrance. All at once, my chest grew tight and my heart made rest in my throat, pulsing like crazy, as my brain worked in an effort to think. Finally the male next to me, realized my awkwardness. He said nothing, but his eyes said everything. They screamed confusion at me, maybe even worry for the well being of my life. The dark haired man across from us grinned wide and proud.
    “I’m pleased to see that life has been fair to you,” he paused, that twisted expression growing larger. “Little brother.”
    Andre’s eyes widened to half the size of my own. His head turned once more, in disbelief.
    “This is your brother? I thought he was dead!” he screamed but his voice was muffled.
    “Even Tod makes mistakes, you simpleton.” Hans smiled then. His face far from death, but yet there was no life to me. Only the life of his past I could accept, not this rampage that he now saw as fun. Andre aimed again.
    “Keep your mouth shut!” he demanded, but my brother refused with an irritating growl. He waved his hand in his direction, pushing his own energy away and at Andre. My partner tried to move but the blow hit him, sending him backward down the street into another building. That was when I regained myself. I turned enough to see Andre but have Hans in my peripheral vision. Andre sat with his legs out, and his head tilting down at the ground. From where I stood, I couldn’t pronounce death or a miracle. But it was hard to kill a werewolf with only outside trauma. This, however, I wouldn’t know until later.
    My eyes locked onto Andre then, at his still form and anger weld up inside of me. Again, I faced the beast, finding him growing closer to me, laughing and taunting me with slurred words.
    “Since when have you cared for a werewolf, Tod?” the mad man cried out. “You’re suppose to hate them for what they did to me!”
    This belief was true, but to the extent of what they had done to him was new to me. I assumed him dead. No more than a rotting corpse somewhere in a ditch. Not a monster. Not a killer. “You’ve done it to yourself,” I announced, bending sideways to retrieve the gun that Andre had lost. I stood right up, pointing it at him with anxious hands. He scoffed, finding a darker smile.
    “You wouldn’t kill your own brother, would you, Toddy?” he taunted again, before running at me. I lowered the weapon at the question, and closed my eyes, unsure of how to end it. As he ran, bones started to rattle again, and the image of Hans shifting was permanently burned into my skull. The half-mutated man wailed with open jaws.
    “I’ve missed playing with you, little brother!” That sinister laugh wrecked every decent memory I had of my childhood. I opened my eyes in time to see Hans lunging forward at me, mouth a gap. I raised the gun for the last time.
    “I’ve missed you too.” I muttered, before firing through the monster’s mouth and out through the back of his head. Pieces of skull, and tissue blew everywhere over the cobblestone of the street. My brother’s broken, and misshapen body fell to the ground and remained there. I stood in silence for what felt like forever, before the gun slipped from my grip, and I dropped to my knees. Hot tears stung at my tired eyes, guilt setting in throughout my body.
    Starting to weep, I knelt there, knowing I was alone. But I deceived myself. A firm grip on my shoulder, and a light shake was enough to make me look up. Andre’s cheerful but drained smile greeted me, and after a moment, even I shared it with him. Normally, I would have felt silly. But given the circumstances I had never felt more relieved to have someone I hated there with me.
    “You aren’t planning on going back to Belgium, are you?” I asked, the amount of silence between us becoming too much. He blinked, and raised his hand to rub his chin in thought, I assumed. He shrugged.
    “I don’t know. I was thinking about going to Rome,” He paused, that grin returning. “I hear they have a massive demon problem. If you’re interested, anyway.”
    I stood, balancing myself out as people began to riot around us in a frenzy of joy and confusion. I felt disgusting in a way to have so much happiness around me. But I felt no true pain at yet losing my brother again. To me, though, that hadn’t even been my brother. Just a shell of his former self.
    “Well?” Andre urged me on, tilting his head to beg me in that subtle way a child does their parent.
    I shrugged myself. “I have heard that Rome is nice this time of year.” His smile widened with my acceptance of the offer, and he went on to bask in the voices and stares of the towns people. I watched them all, feeling at peace finally. But somewhere deep down, just by the way Andre said “demon problem,” I knew things couldn’t be over that easily.

Author's Note

Preview for my Tod idea only in Short Story form. Note: Once I do write this as a book (Thought as a set of three) Things will be different, not as fast, and there are more interesting characters involved and further back story. Hope you find it interesting and choose to read further. Also. If you read, please comment so I have some form of feedback. Thanks.

- K