THE HUNTER ARIAN

It is in the form of a wolf that I am able to feed. Since my untimely death, I’ve never been able to take the blood of a human being. Although I need blood to survive, it’s much easier to let the pack make the kill so that I can satisfy the hunger. To watch such magnificent beasts surround their prey, stalking, planning, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, is a most memorable experience. It is why I chose this form.

I am powerful and exquisite. My coat of fur is a brownish-tan with silver and black patches. The grayish tint which surrounds my eyes gives me a rich and princely appearance. I am the Alpha of my pack and although the males try to win my affections, it is the female of the species which hold my interests. You see it was a female wolf that made me immortal.

I moved to the outskirts of this forest about a year ago. I needed the isolation and the convenience enabled me to run with the wolves. Once the realization of what I had become set in, my human form became obsolete. At first I couldn’t adjust to the change in lifestyle, stalking women to feed my insatiable appetite for blood. I love women and to destroy something so dear and precious was inconceivable. It is when I travel into town that I choose my human form. The nearby college where I teach provides a natural cover, keeping my true identity hidden.

Night school is filled with wonderful women but I couldn’t possibly take their lives from them in order to survive. Unless I can master how to feed without destruction, they are simply off limits; thus making this new existence a dilemma. In my mortal life I was never without a lady friend. I always fancied the young ones exciting and innocent. My innate power, money, beauty and intelligence attracted the finest mortals on the face of this fine earth. But each time I would allow myself the pleasure of their company, instincts would take over. Being a vampire does have its rewards, eternal youth, but without a way to control the hunger, I had to give up the need for companionship. It was the only way I could hang on to my own humanity which was quickly vanishing, the need for blood greater than any other pleasures available.

It was with great uneasiness that a new student transferred into my night class. She was different from the rest. More mature than the others, worldly, self-assured, and extremely intimidating. When she walked into the room her presence was felt by all, including myself. She had soon become a reminder of why I liked those young things, easy to control and manipulate to my whim. In mortal years, she was about 40, and her wavy, shoulder-length hair, coupled with a body to die for, the most sensuous lips I have ever seen, mesmerized me. Her slender neck beckoned me; my keen eyesight drawn to her beating pulse rippling through those dark, blue veins enticing me to devour the surrounding flesh.

On the student roster, her name was Arian Masters. I began to feel a certain physical attraction for Arian as the semester continued. Her feminine beauty was overwhelming. When I wasn’t around her, I would see her in my dreams. Thinking my dreams were some kind of an omen, or perhaps a warning, I was incapable of trusting her. But despite my fear, the growing attraction was gaining control of my vast strength. I couldn’t understand what power she possessed over me. Whenever she was in my presence, I found myself desperately needing to run free, out of her clutches, like in my dreams. She made me nervous, an eerie sensation, I’ve never experienced before.

The midnight hour is the most productive time for the pack. It is our playtime. Like clock work it comes, after feeding, but before sleeping. I called it our grooming hour. It was during these moments that I felt a sense of happiness and belonging. Although I felt alone at times, my pack growing to an odd number found me without a grooming partner. And denying myself the pleasure of human companionship, the emptiness convinced me to let another wolf enter our family, the need greater than the fear.

It was the morning of the first frost that the pack noticed a lone wolf slowly approaching from the direction of the main highway that encircled our domain. I remember it well. Her arrival also marked my five-year anniversary as an immortal being. Her approach was cool and sophisticated as she proceeded with speed and agility. I had sensed a confrontation and taking charge of my role, I stood my ground. But to my surprise she didn’t attack. She stopped about 10 or more feet away from me and took a heeling position. It was like she was waiting for some kind of sign that it was okay to join our playful activities. Her non-threatening howls, meek and muffled, caused a stir, as the pack looked on eagerly, awaiting my approval.

I remember seeing her pass through our way before, but never once did she come in as close as she did that day. This time I got a good look at her and immediately became fascinated by her beautiful, muscular frame. Her coat was not entirely different from my own, but she was a little older than I judging by the thick and dark mane of her neck. Curious, I allowed her to join our playtime, an encounter that soon proved beneficial. Ah, the joys of grooming. She was different than any other members of my pack. It was as if she knew what I liked, favoring an intelligence, not apparent in the other wolves. I found myself always searching for her as each day passed by. After grooming she would disappear into the wilderness. I never knew when she would return, but I always felt her presence whenever she was in my territory. I had grown accustomed to her comings and goings and was eager each time she would appear.

It seemed like months had pass, not seeing her, until one cold Halloween night, the pack venturing down towards a running stream, frantic in their movements. An overwhelming sense that something was amiss forced a resonant howl as a warning to the pack that danger was near. I had spotted a human form in the distance, a hunter, reloading a rifle. I scampered ahead of the pack to investigate, the rest of the pack stopping in their tracks to await further instruction. As the hunter grew closer, I heard a shot whistle through the chilling air, hitting me in the chest. I found myself stumbling to the cold ground, the pain worse than anything I’ve felt in my young lifetime. The loss of blood caused my mind and spirit to drift to unconsciousness. What I remember about the ordeal was the hunter standing over me, the look of delight etched on her face, proud of the prize she had snared.

I awoke to find myself in a cage with bandages wrapped around my wounded chest. I couldn’t tell where I was and I wondered why I didn’t return to my human form. This led me to believe that I never died at least not in the physical sense. Vampires can’t truly die unless their heads are cut off and a stake is driven through their hearts. Once the form they possess at the time of apparent death occurs, the vampire returns to its natural façade, usually human form. I tried desperately to transform but to my dismay, I couldn’t. I had loss too much blood in the attack and in this weaken state, I am truly helpless. I wanted to just die. But I was alive and it was obvious to me that someone or something was sustaining my very existence a reality I was increasingly becoming aware of and terrified.

Within the next hour of my incarceration, a figure came into view. To my surprise it was Arian, still in her army fatigues. She pushed a bowl of food through a small space between the ground and the cage. I was in a difficult predicament, not only caged but also unable to eat solid foods. The hunger can only be quenched by the taste of blood. I didn’t care though, I knew that without the precious blood I would eventually die and dying would be better than being caged.

I had all these mixed emotions. There was this beautiful woman that I admired greatly who could be a part of my future, but this same woman has the power to control my death. If I could only muster up enough strength to transform back into a vampire, I would gladly make my first kill. Love does not conquer all when your life is threatened. Her demise would give me great pleasure as a vampire, and my mercy would make her death less painful.

I only saw Arian in the evenings. As each day went by, I grew weaker. I knew she couldn’t possibly understand why the food she was giving me wasn’t helping, but I didn’t comprehend why she was trying to save me in the first place. It was a mystery to me. Perhaps she didn’t mean to kill me after all? I was losing myself grappling with these thoughts about her, my anger fading as quick as my strength.

By the morning of the fourth day, I began to shiver. Whimpers replaced my resonant howls and the hunger pains became intense. Arian brought another bowl of food, only this time the meat was still covered in blood. Reveling in the change of luck, I lapped up the juice that was surrounding the meat like a fountain of gushing water. She watched with instant curiosity and utter fascination as I devoured every bit of the precious liquid.

“So that’s what you needed all along, she said. Blood. My hunch was correct.”

I didn’t entirely understand what she meant but she insisted on her hunch and brought me another bowl of the nutritional blood. She then began to speak to me as if I would understand.

“I’ve been searching for you for the past five years. I thought I had killed you but in my inexperience I created you. I could sense that you were near when I entered your classroom. You looked so different than you did when I attacked you years ago. Your hair is longer, darker, you don’t wear glasses anymore and your eyes are a different color now than before. But that day our paths crossed in the wilderness, I knew that you were my protégé.”

As my mind began to whirl, I remembered the attack, but it was a wolf that attacked me not a human. I had always sensed that because I survived and soon discovered that I was a vampire, the wolf must have been a vampire as well. I took the form of a wolf with the hope that one day I might find out. I stared into Arian’s eyes, watching her as she quickly opened my cage. Still weakened, instinct made me attack. In a split second, I wrestled her to the ground and suddenly her human form vanished, transforming back into a wolf, her familiar scent overwhelming my rage. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, so I ceased the attack. It was in that intense moment I realized that we were indeed one in the same. Reunited with my Sire, I heeled. For it was the midnight hour, and just like clockwork, playtime commences, after eating, but before sleeping. Ah…the joys of grooming.

Comments

[Magic]

This is the first story you gave me to read. I was hooked by the second paragraph and when finished, couldn’t wait to read more of your work.
Your stories and poems are creative and imaginative; I am always hungry to read more! You WILL be published one day that I am certain.