“It’s just a precaution,” he'd said, “so you don’t run.”

            “Why would I run?” she’d asked him. “I’m here to document this phenomenon, not run away from what could potentially be ground breaking news for the skeptical science types.”

            Druug smiled. She always reacted so negatively when she thought he was trying to say something derogatory about women. Nix was so sensitive about it she would often take offense where none was intended. He liked many things about her but found this constant wall of women's lib reaction somewhat tiresome on occasion. He found nothing wrong with women and did not quite understand why they wanted to be like men.

            “It is often people's first, instinctual reaction to my.....unusual ability.”

            “Look Druug, I've known you for some time now, and you have always treated me with kindness and respect. I do not expect that to change. It's the one thing I really regard as the most valuable part of our friendship. You have never done anything to make me doubt what you have said to me. That is why I trust you more than I have ever trusted anybody else. Don't worry, I'm not gonna run.”

            “Very well, we shall see.”

            Yeah, but that was yesterday, she thought. Now….here she was, tied to a lodgepole pine, holding her video camera and wondering if she could cut the ropes fast enough with her Bowie knife if things got too weird. She watched him pace, his huge frame temporarily blocking the light of the large campfire. It would be a cold night, he’d said, as they hiked up the mountain that afternoon. She was sweating freely during their climb and doubted any promised coolness to come. As the sun went down at their evening meal in camp, a deep chill had settled in. She was glad she’d brought the thick sweater and leather bush coat she swore to him she wouldn’t need.

* * * * * * *

            Nix had met him at the small town college in the American Indian Mysticism class. He’d been particularly interested in Shamanism and the Indian legends of “skin walkers.” She'd learned they were Medicine men who could change into animals and still retain their human intelligence while experiencing the wonders of flight in eagle form or the blood lust of the wolf pack. The legends also told of a darker mystical group of Shamans who became addicted to this indulgence, becoming trapped within a form they had grown fond of, and thereafter, finding themselves unable to return fully to human form. He’d asked the professor so many questions that he had finally been directed to a local Elder from whom he might get more information. She knew he’d gone to meet with this Indian Elder, but he would tell her nothing about it. It seemed to be a real sore point with him, so she had stopped asking.

            Nix had been a freelance writer for many years, finding herself drawn to the unusual occurrences and folklore of the small towns she visited. The stories she 'reported' would never make the bigger publications, but her work was always popular among the fringe crowd of esoteric readers. She made enough to do as she pleased.

            A mutual interest in the mystical had drawn them into conversations and eventually into a friendship that seemed natural and fulfilling for both. It seemed to each of them that they had known each other for ages. She’d really only known him for about a year or two now but still had not discovered how he made a living or paid for the huge log home he owned, let alone the small lake and rough land surrounding it. Druug was still being evasive about it whenever she asked,  so she didn’t push it. But she decided she would find out eventually because once she got curious about something, she could never really let go of it until her curiosity was satisfied. She was a reporter after all.

            They’d been out on the expansive deck one evening, just enjoying the breeze from the lake, some good wine and each other’s company when he’d told her his secret. He'd actually told her he could change his physical structure at will. Nix had laughed.

            He hadn’t made a joke, he’d said, and was prepared to prove it to her if she were willing.

            She hadn’t laughed again. She asked him all the questions she could think of, but he had stubbornly said she would just have to witness the change herself, alone. When he added that she could video tape the event if she wished, she had agreed immediately. Druug's suddenly serious demeanor convinced her that something worth exploring was there. The publishers she usually sold her stories to would love to have something like this to feed to their ravenous readers. And now she was tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere with an intimidating, six foot six pacing giant she thought she knew.

 

            “The moon will be rising soon,” Druug said, startling her out of self recriminations. “I hope you are ready.”

            His voice seemed to have dropped a full octave from the last time she’d heard him speak to her.  He had been tying off the ropes that surrounded her body from ankles to waist, leaving her arms free to hold the camcorder.

            “Is it too tight?” he’d inquired.

            It seemed to Nix that it was hours ago though it had only been a few minutes since he'd asked about the ropes. Now he sounded different and was asking her if she was ready for the big scary transformation he was supposedly going to show her.

            Probably just trying to dramatize whatever he was going to do, Nix thought.

She smiled, although he was looking away from her, staring off at the horizon of forest.

            “Got all my duckies in a row,” she called back, “just waitin' on you to start the show.”

            He didn’t answer, just kept staring out over the dark trees. She looked away from him in the same direction, towards her right, where a sliver of moon peeked over the far mountain.

            “Turn on your camera,” Druug whispered.

            His words were so low she thought she might have imagined he had spoken at all.

She clicked the power on, bringing the camcorder’s eye piece into position and pressed the record button. He bent down and began to untie his boots. His silhouette, defined by the firelight, was sharp and clear but his face, hidden in shadow,  had almost no detail.

 

            Damn, that was just stupid and unprofessional not to think about lighting the scene. This is not your first story, moron, she berated herself internally. She was about to ask him to move farther away from the fire when he suddenly stood up and practically ripped off his jacket. He had only a T-shirt on underneath.

             She wondered why the hell he wasn’t freezing. She’d had to put her thick sweater and coat on soon after the sun went down.

            Nix could see his breath clearly, and then she noticed the steam rising from his body.

            “Aahhhh……” he sighed.

            His voiced pleasure seemed to have an edge she couldn’t quite pin down, didn’t think she’d heard it before from him. Next the T-shirt came off, and she could see the sheen of sweat on his skin illuminated by the firelight behind him. He looked back towards the far horizon. The moon was half visible above the trees now, and she panned the camera away from him to record the moment, zooming in for the best shot. She pulled back out and panned back to the fire. The circle of light was empty, and there was a sudden silence as the normal night sounds were stilled. She lowered the camera, listening.

            “I am here.” Druug said quietly into her left ear.

            She jumped in spite of herself and nearly dropped the camcorder, thankful that the ropes had not let her fall and appear the foolish, faint-hearted female. “Damn it, you scared me you big jerk, stop playing around.”

            She repositioned the camera on her shoulder and looked up at him. Jeez, had he gotten bigger or was it just that he was so damn close, looming over her? “Please back up so I can get a good, full length shot.”

            Nix was relieved her voice didn’t quaver. He had rattled her by sneaking up on her in the dark, but how had he done it so fast, and without a sound? Her heartbeat slowed down as he walked away in the direction of the rising moon. She put the camcorder to her eye and focused on his dark form striding away from her. He slowed down as he came out from under the trees, illuminated fully by the moon far behind him. It was a great shot, and she zoomed in to fill the view screen. He stood perfectly still for a moment and then seemed to shiver all over. He abruptly clenched his fists to his stomach, bending forward. He held the position with intensity for several long moments. When he raised his face again into the moonlight, it was no longer human.

            Her throat tightened around a scream. Her entire body froze with an overwhelming primal fear, and she watched helplessly what was happening in the viewer. A silvery kind of glow appeared to form around the thing’s body, reflecting the moonlight. She suddenly realized that it was hair, growing profusely and impossibly fast, all over his body, right before her eyes. The beast straightened, stretched its arms out wide and threw back its head; howling laughter split the night’s silence, thundering across the valley in waves of echoes like a pack of ethereal wolves.

            Then the beast looked right at her, its ice blue eyes shining eerily from under the shadowy brows of its wolfish face. The silver fur ruffled in the cold breeze as the thing started towards her. This time she dropped the camera as she grabbed for the Bowie knife in her belt. He was right next to her before she could even get the knife from its sheath. A huge, clawed hand swiftly disengaged the blade, carefully dropping it at her feet, out of reach, even if she were fast enough. She was going to die, horribly, within seconds. The thought seemed odd to her as she stared at the shining blade on the ground. She felt dizzy and wondered if her heart was still beating. Then the beast spoke to her in a slurred growl.  “Remember, do not run. I will chase you if you run. I cannot help it. It will be bad if you run."

            She stared at the mouthful of white canines as the beast spoke, wondering stupidly how it could be calmly advising her about safety precautions that were nothing but a ruse. She knew she was facing her own death, why was it pretending otherwise?

            Finally, when it didn’t say anything else or bend down to rip her throat out, she gathered the one tiny speck of courage she had and looked up into the beast’s eyes. But there was no beast within those eyes. It was him, there in the same blue eyes she’d looked into over coffee and donuts. These were the eyes of her friend. Relief flooded her mind and body; she relaxed a little, finding herself suddenly exhausted. She smiled at those eyes and was suddenly afraid again as the beast attempted to smile back.

            He made an odd noise and looked down at the sudden appearance of a black arrow protruding from his side. Then he was gone.

            She bent her body over the ropes, straining to reach the camcorder, so she could see farther than the limited area the fire illuminated. The full moon made the shadows seem even more frightening now that she knew they concealed an unknown menace. Managing to grasp the strap that had caught on the rough bark of the tree, she pulled the camera up to her. Then she looked at the knife. It was still unreachable. She gave it up and looked through the viewfinder as a scream pierced the night. Twisting towards the sound, she saw the beast with its claws dug deep into the body of a young Indian youth. His throat was torn and shredded, and there was blood everywhere. The beast dropped the limp body and was gone again as the air filled with shouts from all around her. A sudden, agonizing pain in her chest took her breath away as the shouts turned to horrified screaming. She had a bright yellow arrow shaft sticking out of her left breast. She knew it had lodged in the tree behind her. They’d shot her! Why in hell had they shot her?            She tried to breathe and was rewarded with a wave of pain so intense she blacked out. When she came to again, the beast was right in front of her, its jaws painted in black blood. The night was absolutely silent except for the beast’s breathing. She didn’t really care now. He was not a man anymore. He had become wild with blood lust and would kill her, just as she had thought he would. At least the terrible pain would stop soon. She lifted her head to see its face as it reached for her with its huge, clawed hands. Then the beast leaned forward and sank its teeth into her shoulder. Her horrified scream echoed out over the valley, long after the darkness took her.

            It was bright when she woke up, too bright to be moonlight. When her eyes had adjusted somewhat, she looked up through tree limbs and smelled bacon cooking. A large shape resolved itself into a man crouched beside her.

            “You are going to be all right in a few days, please do not move”

 

            The previous night’s events came back to her in a rush of images and terror. She tried to crawl away from the man who was not a man. Then the pain came again and she was back in the safe darkness where there were no nightmares come to life.

            The next time she woke, she remembered and did not open her eyes, listening and carefully keeping her breathing slow. Her chest did not hurt so badly, and it was easier to take in air. She did not hear anything, so she opened her eyes just slightly. She could tell by the light through the trees that it was early evening. She turned her head carefully to look at the camp. He was there at the fire getting out the cooking utensils, his back to her. She closed her eyes and tried to think.

            “I know you are awake,” he said quietly. “Please do not worry. You are safe with me, and we are still friends.”

            Nix tried to laugh at this absurdity, and then wished she hadn’t when the pain returned in a bright bloom across her chest and shoulder. He was at her side instantly, lifting her into a sitting position to ease the coughing that followed.

            “Do not talk for awhile.” Druug said, “Just listen and I will explain. When you were shot, I knew you would die. I could not let that happen. You were only here because of me. The bite of one such as myself will give you the magic of the curse, making you stronger than normal and allowing you to heal at a much faster, efficient rate. Of course, you will also be able to change now. I do not know if you want this, but it was the only way to keep you alive. You must make your own decision in this, and I will understand if you are not, well….pleased by my actions. Do not make your decision rashly; there are many positive aspects to this...‘change.' "

She stared at him for a few moments, trying to take it all in. There was no way she could think about it all right now. There were too many questions racing through her head that had no rational answers. Her whole body ached, and she realized she was ravenously hungry. Finally she said, “Are you going to make me something to eat or not?”

* * * * * * *

            By the weekend she was strong enough to walk, and her appetite had grown really impressive, yet she did not gain any weight.

            Now that’s definitely a positive, she thought.

            They were hiking down the mountain slopes through a fine mist, having burned the remains of the eight young Indian tribe members. The Indian Elder the professor had referred him to had probably been the instigator of the attack. Obviously, he was now a danger to them both. Her entire life had changed over the course of a week, and she wondered how she would handle this new way of being. What would it be like when she changed into a she-wolf thing? Oddly enough, she found herself anticipating it with more exuberant curiosity than fear.

            I'll certainly have lots of material to fuel my freelance writing career,  Nix thought, wryly.

            “So, now that we’re really good friends,” Nix said, “can you tell me what you do for a living?”

            He went quiet for a moment, and she thought he would refuse to answer again.

            “I’m a hit man,” he answered quietly.

            She thought about it for a moment. Well, that made sense.

            “Need a partner?” she asked.

            Druug just laughed.