Chapter 2
Jack's memories from that night were extremely foggy. But then again, they always were the night of a full moon. At some point the pain of the transformation just became too much for him to bear and his mind would block out what it could. But it never blocked out enough. He could always remember the pain leading up to it. And the pain afterwards. And some of the rage in the middle.
For him, it usually began with maddening insomnia. He assumed it was meant to keep him awake no matter how sleepy he became in the daytime. This was usually followed by the cramps, cramps he thought– hoped– he'd get used to, but knew he never would. That, and the itching. Mierdathe itching. His muscles and ligaments burned all day before a full transformation. It was unbearable. And would come in unpredictable waves at the worst of times.
These were all preliminary symptoms though. The real pain was the pain that caused the blackouts. Pain which made the curse truly a curse. Snapping and pulling of muscles. His body contorting itself into unnatural positions. Blood rushing so fast he almost couldn’t hear himself scream. Deafening noise and burning of his body so overwhelming that he succumbed to whatever monster took over when he wasn't there. A monster that usually took control no later than a few moments after sundown every full moon. For which, Jack dutifully tried to prepare for. Which he usually organised so well. Except for tonight apparently.
You see Jack had thought he was being careful. He had tried so hard to be careful. But he was running late. For most people, this wouldn't be a life-or-death scenario. Except most people weren't Jack Russell. Jack Russell, whose plans regularly went wrong for reasons out of his control.
I've had closer shaves before. Jack tried to console himself. But never like this.
Jack had never been caught in the midst of Florida during his cycle. He had hoped in vain that he'd have some of the same safety measures he had found while in Louisiana. His journey through that state had been surprisingly welcome. The local history of voodoo and other practising forms of magic or superstitious traditions had given him a rare opportunity to socialise with people who might know a thing or two about dealing with his family's condition.
He had yet to meet another werewolf like himself but had met a few former rougarous, victims of a temporary curse not dissimilar to his own permanent affliction. The area had seen enough rougarous that it turned out there were safe houses all across the Bayou to hide in. Although some friendly monsters had expressed to Jack how little they had needed of them.
"La vie du swamp is so thick. So dangerous seulment. So void of humans." One man began to tell Jack over a tea laced with THC. An experiment he hoped would calm his cramps and anxiety. It didn't. It just put him more on edge. "Sometimes it works its own magic on calming the beasts." The man continued. "The monster is only as powerful if you let it. I' don't know your preference, but Id rather be asleep from letting the creature run into the ground than wake up with bloody nails from scratching at the door each morning. Wouldn’t you agree mon ami?"
It was an interesting proposition. Jack was also sick of waking up with bloodied hands. But not enough that he was willing to try the technique himself. Monster hunters had been on his tail for weeks now, and he knew that staying in one place in plain sight for too long was never a good idea. Staying outside during a transformation? Even worse.
Still, Louisiana had left its mark on Jack, and he had hoped, desperately, unrealistically, that the Everglades might share some weak resemblance to the hospitality of the Bayou. Except it turned out swamp country did not equal monster country. And he had a terrible time finding the location and the supplies needed to lock himself away safely. And that left little time to do anything else with time to spare. Which was why he was running late. Far from his safe house. Running through the thick air. Losing his breath.
But running late wasn't the only thing that threw off his monthly routine. It was the reason he was running late. His sister. She was the reason why instead of being wrapped in four layers of chains attached to steel rebar, he was in the swamp. Forced to try out that stupid technique that hippy from Louisiana had suggested. Not only that, but he was in the swamp running away from Lissa, who he had only wanted to see for a brief moment to make sure she was okay. To make sure she still had the protection totem Mama had given her. To make sure the curse hadn't followed her like it had followed him. And to make sure that nobody was watching her. Well, that nobody else was watching her. Jack had considered himself to be an okay exception. Except Jack was wrong.
Lissa wasn't supposed to know Jack was there. It had been so many years since they had last seen each other, he had hoped she wouldn't recognize him if his plan to stay out of sight had failed. He was wrong. Because she did recognize him. That was bad enough, what was worse was the time of day. Jack had been reckless on this one. Sundown was at 9 pm and he had stalked her to her lecture at 7 pm.
The major contributing factor that made this night go so poorly was the fact that Jack had never been to college and as a result, didn't really know how lectures worked. He assumed it was like some sort of public speaking event, an open-air space one could walk in and out of as they pleased. He was wrong. It turned out it was a cramped room full of awkwardly silent young adults who would rather be anywhere else but were all too afraid to leave lest they miss some important detail that the professor might put on the exam. A room which was easy to sneak into, but extremely hard to sneak out of. Any loud noise was not only noticed, but scrutinised.
By the time he even got the courage to get out of his seat, the sun was well past the tree line. He had been in the back of the hall, hoping that in trying to leave, his sister would be too focused on class to notice him. Except she had. Because everyone saw him. The loud creaking of his chair and the incessant shuffling of his bag made sure he was seen by the whole room. And because Jack had made the poor mistake of looking up at the rest of the class, he could see the hundreds of wide eyes staring down at him from his place in the centre of the amphitheatre.
Despite the circumstances, Jack's friendly nature prevailed and he forced himself to give a quick wave and a soft smile before he finally made a run for it, bolting out the door. The professor was swift in regaining the attention as the door closed behind him and each student's attention was refocused. Well, all except one student. A girl who was vague in resemblance to Jack, who quickly interrupted the class once more in her haste, rushing out of her seat with much less care or ease, to catch up to the man who had looked so much like her brother, and even more like their father.
She had caught up to Jack when he had almost run to the edge of campus, towards where he believed his safehouse was when she was.
“Jack is that you?”
Jack almost fell over in fright as he heard her voice, tripping over the old stone pathways present across the school grounds. He turned around and there she was. Seeing her all grown up in the lecture hall had been one thing. Sat down, reminiscent of who she was when he left. But now, he could tell she looked so different. So familiar and strange to how she had been growing up. And it wasn’t just her face. She even smelled the same. Wearing their Mama’s perfume. He remembered how strong it had been in the washroom growing up. The lavender and vanilla gave him headaches. He hated it then, but now the scent made him yearn for those happier times. Dios mios that was so long ago…how long has it been?
“Lissa?” His voice cracked with a mixture of joy and worry. Which was soon smothered by fear. The sun was setting. Already past the tree line. Mierda. And it would be nightfall in a matter of minutes and that was when–fuck. He needed to get back to the safe house. Right. Now. He made a move to turn but was stopped in his tracks
“Jack, where have you been?”
That voice. So similar to that of their mother, it was almost too painful to hear. And becoming worse by the second as his enhanced senses grew stronger with the full moon. He had to get out of here. Lissa moved towards him in an act of embrace but was taken aback by Jack’s reluctance. Jack finally found the words he needed somewhere in his throat.
“Lissa, you can’t be here. You need to go.”
He tried not to look as her face fell in disappointment.
“Really? Why are you even here if not to see me?"
Jack frantically looked around for an escape, but there was none. Just an empty stone-laid campus, hued pink by the setting sun. He looked back at her, hands in a mimic of prayer, and tried to explain.
"Lissa, I don't have time right now. I have to go and you need to get as far away from me as you can. I promise you I will come back tomorrow morning and explain everything–"
"How can I believe that? You left so quickly last time. How can I know you will come back? Why are you even here?"
She once again tried to step towards him, growing angry when he recoiled once more. He couldn’t blame her. But how could he explain? How things looked when he left…he’d felt guilty about it since he shut the door. But that didn’t excuse the danger she was in. Signalled once more by the pit he felt in his stomach and the burning itch of his nail beds.
"Lissa please, I really need to go…"
The cramps were getting worse now. As were the muscle spasms. He did everything in his power to stop his hand from shaking. If she noticed, there was no indication on her pensive face.
"Tell me why at least. Why did you leave?"
Jack sighed through the shivers.
“I can’t.”
“Why!?”
"I'm dangerous!"
She scoffed.
"Dangerous? Jack, you couldn't hurt a fly. If someone is after you I can help, bring me with you…”
"No! No…it's safer you don't know. It's safer that you stay away. That's why I came. To see if you were safe."
"Why you came? So you did come to see me. But you didn't want me to see you. That's not fair Jack."
“I know. I know it’s not. I’m not happy about it either. I just wanted to make sure that you were safe and that you weren't like me, that you weren’t–gah!” Jack grasped his side in pain. Dios mío it was starting.
“Jack?”
“Stay away from me!”
“What–why? What’s happening? Are you sick?”
“Do you have the totem?” he gasped out. “You must. You're 19. And you're not–well…”
Like me. He wanted to say.
‘'The what?”
“Perro totem! Mama said she’d give you it, and explain…”
She reached into her pocket. Pulling out the small canine-shaped trinket. Small and wooden, wrapped in a makeshift leather cord so it could be worn as a necklace. Far more important than it appeared. Lissa looked disgusted as she must have realised what he was talking about.
“You can't be serious. This isn't real–”
“Please Lissa, if she told you then–”
“No–no! Those were just silly stories she told me to make me feel better– about you leaving. About Papa dying. Just silly excuses to explain a broken home. I don't even know why I kept it. So please stop the act.”
“It's not an act.”
“Then tell me what's happening!”
She waited for him to answer and in split a moment of clarity, where the pain subsided enough for Jack to look at his watch, and at the darkening sky, and the empty campus around him. There was no time. He looked past Lissa. This was a science building. On the edge of the Everglades. A thick swamp. No people if you went deep enough. Especially this time of night. And hopefully, where Lissa wouldn’t follow. In the second before another wave of nausea could hit he made a decision that he later couldn't tell was logical or out of sheer panic. He pushed past her shoulder and ran.
And that was why he was running late. And in a swamp. And out of excuses.
He kept running. Kept running until he couldn't anymore. Because of the pain. Because of his legs giving out beneath him. Because of the thorn bush in front of him. Because he had reached a dead end. Shit.
At some point, his stumbling and grunts must have convinced Lissa that he wasn't faking illness, as her pleas of frustration turned to pleas of worry, growing more distant by the second.
He could only hope she was far enough away that the creature couldn't find her. If it did–he could never live with himself. An ice-cold burst of fear hit him in the heart. So strong it broke through the rest of the sensory overload.
He had to get as much space between her and him as possible. He took another look at the dead end, grimacing at the thorns and cobwebs, and the muck. And against his better judgement, pushed through the bushes. He'd be the wolf any moment now. He could handle a bit of brush. Spiders and thorns be damned.
Bursting into the open air, Jack did a quick spin of his surroundings. He was alone. Gracias a Dios. Although it did little to alleviate the anxiety he felt as he fell to his knees. Pain shot up and down his body, and he could feel his nail beds tearing apart. He was definitely out of time. But that didn't matter, as long as she was safe–
“Jack! Jack? Please, I'm worried about you!”
Jack's heart dropped. She was here. He could sense it. Every single one of his hairs stood on end. She was so close, and the beast would surely find her. He let out a cry of anguish.
“Mierda! No, no, no–she can't be here. Aqui no, ahora no…” His usual laboured breathing shifted into a full-on panic attack. He tried to get up one more time. One last-ditch effort to sprint away from her. But there was nothing he could do. He fell back into the mud. Hard. Not even realising he was still muttering to himself in denial. “No, no, no….”
And that's when it began. The true pain. The deafening noise. The blood rushing through his head and body making him burn all over.
It was at this point Jack's entire experience of reality faded away to mere bursts of emotion and moving colours. The most prevalent of which was fear. And rage. He often wondered where the rage came from. Who was he angry at? His father? Himself? The world?
He growled in frustration.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had to stay away from Lissa. It wasn't fair that he couldn't have a normal life. And it wasn't fair that he was forced to endure this pain.
Jack fought through the fog and the pain and the noise for as long as he could, and when he looked through the fuzziness, all he could make out was the look of horror on his sister's face as her eyes met his, the scent of her lavender-vanilla perfume consuming his senses. The last thought Jack had as he lost all sense of self, was how afraid he was. So very very afraid about what he would find when he woke up the next morning. And the grief that would soon follow after.