The Soul of Sanctuary

The thin sliver of a moon fails to illuminate the majestic, local cemetery. Being old and a historical part of the community, it has many antiquated, ornate and expensive head stones. Jon and Nathan now blessed with heightened night vision, greet each other just as if they had met in broad daylight. Both men are tall. Jon is older in his mid-fifties. His body is in excellent shape reflecting regular exercise of some kind. His features are dark, blending with the shadows. In contrast, Nathan is fairly young, just knocking on the stepping stone of thirty. He is also fair skinned with dirty blonde hair and ice blue eyes. Although shy, Nathan appears genuinely happy to meet Jon. Jon is equally happy due to a loneliness he feels in his solitary life. “So, we meet,” Jon begins. “Yeah.” Nathan agrees not knowing what to expect. “Where is the gun?” “Here.” Nathan hands it to him in a matter of fact manner. “Only one bullet?” Jon asks surprised. “That’s all it would take and I didn’t think I could miss.” Jon chuckles, throws away the bullet and returns the gun to Nathan. “Would it have worked?” Nathan asks suddenly curious about his fate. “Oh yes. Any bullet would kill you, though, depending on what vital organ you hit--whether you were in human form or the wolf. The silver and the crosses are myth.” “Oh.” “It’s a gifted life style. But, not a mysterious one.” “So you say. So far, it’s scared the hell out of me.” “That’s because you’re at the beginning and you’re alone. You can’t begin to realize the changing your anatomy is going through right now.” “I think I felt every bit of that change one night. I’ve never been so . . . out of control in my life.” He admits, revealing the depth of his shame and misery. Jon feels an overwhelming compassion for Nathan. He wants fiercely to protect him as a mother would her first born pups. Hoping Nathan could accept even a little understanding, he touches his shoulder with a firm squeeze. “Trust me Nathan, I’ll get you through it.” “This, once a month change, is there any way out of it?” “No. But, you can lead the change instead of letting it lead you.” “What possible good is that?” “Being in control. Being without control is what is scaring you the most right now.” Jon walks ahead a few steps, picks up a rock and throws it at a rat. It yelps and scuttles away quickly knowing the presence of a predator is nearby. Jon continues, “Sooner or later, you will run into a pack of wolves--a clan if you will. Then, you will know true fear.” “But, if they are like me?” “They will be like you. They will test you. See what kind of courage you have. Would you be a contribution to the family as a member or as dinner?” “How humane. This does not help my suicidal nature.” “It’s not meant to. Right now, I’m giving you information, teaching you how to survive if you can find the heart.” “I need courage and a heart. If there is a yellow brick road nearby, I’m ready to go back to Kansas.” Instantly, in reaction to his blatant negativity, Jon leaps through the air with the power and agility of an experienced wolf. He knocks Nathan down to the ground while changing from human to wolf form. Even the slightest sliver of a moon provides enough energy for the change if one is knowledgeable and experienced. With his front paws on Nathan’s chest and his hind legs along each side of Nathan’s hips, his jaws fit around Nathan’s neck in a menacing grip. The split second before Nathan felt the death grip Jon’s dark eyes had bore into Nathan’s blue eyes. Nathan, shocked, but instinctually well aware of his situation, doesn’t move. He can hear Jon’s thoughts in his mind at a louder pitch than the human voice can transmit in sound waves to the eardrums. “Let’s get this pity party over. You’ve changed–forever until death. Accept your fate. Life or death, now. I can provide it–better than any bullet. I can make you bleed and not feel it. I can rip any part of you and tear it to shreds. I can lick the blood from any draining artery and love it. It’s your choice. Want to be my friend or my midnight snack?” The situation has achieved a new level of clarity. Before, dying was so theoretical, like a multiple-choice solution. Now, the finality of it verses the unknown seems worse--worse than even a once a month nightmare. Nathan forms the thoughts, “Live, life, friend.” Jon loosens his grip slightly, but allows his hot breath and saliva to drip. Nathan hears, “Louder. Convince me. Quick!” Again, Nathan focuses on the concept and the letters that form ‘friend’ and stares as hard as he can into the dark sky sprinkled with a few stars beside the slight moon. Mere seconds ticked--one by one. Jon releases Nathan’s throat, lifts his head and howls as in a proud triumph.