NOTICE: This story contains adult situations and graphic sexual scenes of natural, unnatural and supernatural variations. If it is illegal for you to be reading this you should stop immediately. I will pause for three return strokes to give you time to exit this site.
There, now that little Timmy has left, we can continue on to the story of ...
DARKNESS CALLS Chapter One
It was a sunny day. The sky was a gorgeous cerulean blue with white cotton clouds wandering across it. I could see them though the partially opened blinds behind Dr. Fellers' desk. I so much wanted to be outside right then. I so much wanted to be somewhere -- anywhere -- else.
But sometimes you just have to deal with where you are. And right now that was in a psychiatrist's office having a couples therapy session with my younger brother. Yeah, that's right, couples therapy with my brother. I'm pretty certain that I'm in love with him. Except that I'm not gay. Seriously, I'm not. I'm a werewolf and the beast inside of me has decided that my little brother Joey is its mate. I read once that wolves bond for life. Don't know if the same holds for werewolves.
How's Joey dealing with a werewolf brother who's mooning over him? Hard to say. For the last six years he was demonically possessed by an incubus that milked him for multiple orgasms every night. The damned thing has finally left and Joey is in kind of a precarious place right now. He needs some time to pull himself together. Problem is, the moon is waxing gibbous and I'm just days away from losing complete control over my human inhibitions. Last time that happened I raped him. I'd rather cut off my dick than do that again.
So it's obvious that we are both in need of some professional help. We've got it, and our shrink is a specialist. Exactly what that means I haven't quite figured out, although he does seem to be highly credentialed. He's also a telepathic vampire who looks a hell of a lot like Santa Claus. There's no doubting his competence, but all the ho-ho-ho cheeriness makes me nervous; I have a sneaking suspicion that his sense of humor could get pretty wicked.
There's plenty more I could add, but the only other thing worth mentioning right now is why I'm writing this. Dr. Fellers told me it would "facilitate the journey of integration" (really, he said that) if I kept a journal about the next couple months of my life. It has something to do with bilateral processing in the brain and such. Right brain/left brain stuff, only in my case it's man brain/wolf brain. So this is day one of the log I'll be keeping.
Now, back to that cerulean sky. I so much wanted to be outside right then.
"Yes, my boy, I know you do," said my mind-reading shrink. "But try to stay in here with us for the time being. The heightened distractibility you are experiencing is normal during this stage of your lunar cycle."
I sighed. "It's still three days `til full moon. Last time I didn't start changing until the night before."
"Actually, it's a full four-week cycle. The most dramatic parts happen in the days immediately preceding and following the full moon, but your psyche and your physiology are both in continuous flux."
"Great. What does that remind me of?"
Fellers gave me a rosy-cheeked grin. "Perhaps it would be helpful to discuss a plan for the next few days. Transition itself consists of three stages: conversion, beast form and reversion. Reversion is a quiescent period, much like hibernation. Your natural inclination will be to sleep. Beast form and conversion are much more active. During beast form stage you'll be out hunting. The preserve behind your house is as good a place as any for that."
"Actually, I was thinking of driving myself out into the national forest. I'd be less of a risk to others out there."
"Yes, but the risk to you would be greater. You need a safe place to return to after the night is over. There's no guarantee you'd come back to a camp if you aren't familiar with the area. Besides, you'll need Joey there to care for you during reversion."
"No," I shook my head. "No way. He's not going to be anywhere near me."
"But Daniel," my brother decided to jump into the conversation, "I can help."
I looked at Joey. There was an alertness -- a thereness -- to his topaz eyes that hadn't been present just a few days ago. But there was a fragility in them that was new as well.
"No you can't, bro." I shook my head. "You don't know what you're saying. It's only been a couple of days since you were crying and puking your guts out. You're still recovering from the demon. I'm not going to be any nicer to you this go round than I was last time. I can't ask you to deal with that."
"But – "
"Actually, Joey," Fellers interrupted, "your brother is correct." Well thank you, Jesus. "You are still in an acute posttraumatic state. You should not be left to deal with him alone during conversion."
Fellers turned back to me. "And you, my boy, aren't thinking clearly either. Already you aren't comfortable when he's out of your presence for even short periods. You insisted on accompanying him grocery shopping this morning. Is that typical behavior on your part? Just a few minutes ago, in the waiting room, you had to restrain yourself from checking on him when he went to the bathroom. Even if you can force yourself to drive out of the city this afternoon, you'll be driving back as soon as conversion begins. Operating a motor vehicle while transforming into a werewolf is not a wise idea."
"Fine." Smug fucking bastard. "So he shouldn't be with me and I can't be without him." I hoped he caught that. "What do you suggest?"
Fellers' blue eyes twinkled. Yep, he caught it. "The issue, as you've identified, is conversion. It will be the period of greatest risk to Joey, as it was during your first transition. So let's break it down a bit further."
He steepled his hands together. "Conversion itself consists of two phases. During the first phase the primary manifestation of change is mania, including sleeplessness and increased aggressiveness and sexual drive."
"I knew it," I said, "PMS." Pre-Monster Syndrome.
"Indeed," Fellers grinned. "During your last conversion you became drunk. That is not an uncommon method of self-medication. Alcohol is a depressant, which takes the edge off the manic symptoms. Unfortunately, it also reduces inhibitions. When we are finished here today John will give you a bottle of capsules that will sedate you during phase one of conversion. You should be safe for Joey to be around.
"Phase two of conversion moves into the physical changes, beginning with soft tissue and hair and progressing through alterations in the skeletal structure. During phase two, and when you are in full beast form, medication will not be effective. To insure that both you and Joey are safe, stronger measures will be necessary."
"What does that mean? Will you need to cage me?"
"I hope not. Caging the beast could be problematic. No, what it means is that I'll be making a house call. You need me present to insure that you both remain safe."
Great. Santa was coming to visit.
Fellers' receptionist, John, handed me the pills on the way out.
"What are they?" I asked. The container was unlabeled.
"It's his own mixture. Try not to get pulled over with these in your car. Dr. Fellers can fix it, but you don't want the hassle."
"So this stuff is illegal?" I shook the bottle and the pills rattled. "You telling me the doc is dealing?"
He didn't smile. "It's a potent narcotic. It won't hurt you because you'll burn it off during the change, but don't let anyone else take any."
So John knew about me being a werewolf? That was interesting.
"Okay. So how many should I take?"
"However much you need. Like I said, they can't hurt you."
"Got it. You know, this sounds lots better than alcohol."
He nodded. "It really is."
After the session I dropped Joey off at home and went to the dojang to practice. I had a lot of steam to burn off. Throughout the whole workout I was in top form. I mean I was on fire. My usual sparing partner, another 2nd dan, couldn't touch me. It happened that Jeff, a 4th dan who's Master Quan's top student, was there that evening and he danced a few rounds with me. When I've sparred with Jeff in the past, he's pummeled me. This time it was the other way around. We were both surprised by how fast and aggressive I was. And my balance was absolutely perfect. God, it felt amazing. I felt amazing.
Too amazing, I could tell. After practice I went to my gym and swam laps for an hour. Then I was totally beat. I drove home, ate dinner and crawled into bed to sleep like a baby.
I woke up bursting with energy and feeling great. Before I knew it I was out of bed and bounding down the hall.
"Hey, Joey-me-Joey," I sang out, "you up yet?" No sound from his room, so I opened the door to take a peak. He was curled over on his side, hair flung all over his pillow, looking so cute that I couldn't stop myself from sneaking up to give him a little tickle.
As I closed in his lids flew open and he gave me wide-eyed look that stopped me dead in my tracks. I'd scared him.
"Oh, shit, Joey, I'm sorry." I tucked my hands into my armpits and backed away.
"Daniel, what is it?"
"Nothing, bro. I was just going to tickle you, I promise."
Joey sat up and swept the hair back from his face so he could get a look at his alarm clock.
"It's five-thirty, Daniel. Are you okay?"
As usual, my little brother was sleeping shirtless. Signs of his startled awakening flushed across his bare chest. Suddenly I became aware of the stuffiness of the room. The air was saturated with Joey-smell. God, it smelled good. He smelled good. I wanted to crawl into the bed with him and roll around in the sheets, wrapping that smell around me. Wrapping myself around him.
Okay, this was so not good. The blood was flowing into my dick faster than beer down an Irishman's throat. Time to go. I turned and hightailed it out of Joey's room. Going directly to the kitchen, I poured a glass of OJ and swigged down one of the good doctor's pills.
That was the beginning of phase one.
I spent the day high on opium, or whatever it was that was in those pills. They worked pretty well. I think there was at least some opium in them, because they took a real bite out of my sex drive, which I've heard that opium can do. It was great to feel relaxed and happy to be around my brother without having to constantly control my impulse to jump his bones. We lounged on the couch together and had a Lord of the Rings marathon, watching the director's cut edition of all three movies.
At one point I even got him to open up a little bit.
"I'm sorry you have to go through this, bro."
"Daniel," he peeked at me though his hair, "you made him go away. I'll never be able to repay you for that."
Him. The demon. "How are you doing?"
A frown creased his brow. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "It's kind of like I was in jail for all those years. Every day was like a dream. Before he came I was just a kid. Now I'm not. Everything's the same, but everything's changed." After a pause he added. "I think I'm getting better."
"Yeah," I couldn't stop myself from chuckling, "you're definitely getting better. What was it like, in jail?" I'd been wondering about that.
Joey's head dropped. "Bad," he whispered.
Shit. Smooth move, Dim-Dan. "Sorry, bro. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's okay, Daniel." Joey raised his head. He flipped his hair back so that he could face me squarely. "There's something I need to tell you. I've never had sex with anyone for real. I don't know if I can even get hard when I'm awake. I couldn't before. But that doesn't mean I don't know about sex. I know ... " his head dropped and his voice fell back to a whisper, "a lot."
The conversation was surreal. "All right," I said as I watched the trees in the preserve rustling outside the window. "But I didn't drive him out to take his place. This isn't about us both being guys, or even being brothers. It's about you getting to choose."
"I know. That's what I'm trying to figure out." He raised his head enough to give me another peek though his hair. "What about you, Daniel? How are you going to live with this?"
"I don't know, bro. I guess I'll have to find a way. These pills help."
He bit his lower lip. "Do you think you can live with what I choose?"
"I have to, bro."
"No," his voice was low and hollow. "You don't."
"All right then, let's say that it's what I choose. How `bout that?"
"Okay, Daniel." A tentative smile crept into his eyes.
That rushing I heard in my ears was probably the sound of my heart liquefying into a puddle at his feet.
As the day went on the pills burned off quicker and quicker. I could tell whenever one was wearing off because my dick would start to twitch. By late afternoon one pill couldn't cut it and I started popping two. By evening I was up to three.
Around ten that night the doorbell rang. Joey got up to answer it. He came back into the living room followed by two men. One was a younger guy, black curly hair and a Van Dyke, somewhere in his late twenties. The other was a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard.
I quickly sat up. Who the hell were they? Why had Joey let them in? A surge of anger jolted through me. The younger guy would be the one to take out first. He was wearing jeans and a black wife-beater. His muscular arms were covered in swirling tattoos from the wrists all the way to his shoulders.
Wait -- that Van Dyke looked familiar. Shit, it was Fellers' receptionist, John. I looked at the older man. He was dressed in dark slacks and a pressed white linen shirt. Twinkling blue eyes danced in his narrow face.
"Fellers?"
"Hello, Daniel."
It was his voice. What the fuck?
"Would you feel more comfortable if I assumed a more familiar form?"
Click. Suddenly he was twenty years older and a hundred pounds heavier. His hair and beard were a fluffy white bird's nest.
"How the fuck did you do that?"
"Professional trick." Click, he was the middle-aged guy again.
"Which is really you?"
Fellers tapped his finger against the side of his nose and winked. "How's my patient doing tonight?"
"Don't you already know?"
"Well, yes, actually. You're doing fine." Fellers nouveau settled himself in the armchair opposite me with one leg crossed casually over the other. He looked like a mafia don from one of the Godfather movies. Wearing a spicy cologne, too. John hovered behind him, his tattooed bodyguard. The Van Dyke looked a lot more sinister here than it did at the office. No wonder he always wears long-sleeved oxfords. The guy's face was impassive as ever, but the engine was revving. I could smell his sweat.
"Sedated, but lucid," Fellers continued. "As conversion progresses your metabolism will burn off all medications. I will take over from there. Once you've fully converted I'll release you to hunt."
"You going to restrain me?" I felt my lip curl. "He going to help?" I pointed at John. The nail on my finger looked weird: black and pointy.
"Don't be silly, dear boy. No one's talking about physical restraint."
Fellers was really starting to piss me off. The guy just waltzes into my house and sits down like he owns the place. He'd never said anything about bringing John, who was eyeing me in a way that I really didn't appreciate.
Joey's hand was on my arm, stoking it. He was saying something low and soothing. God he smelled good, but I ignored him. Time for that later; first I had to deal with the intruders.
"It looks like my timing was spot on," Fellers continued. "I'd say the medication phase is about over. Lights out, dear boy."
Click. Everything went dark.
====================================================
Hi, boys. Remember me?
Even through I've moved on, I still like to keep up with the latest goings-on at the ol' homestead. This journal Daniel's keeping is a terrific idea. He's entering it via his laptop on GoogleDocs, so he can access it anywhere. Which means that everything he types in is just a couple of keystrokes away from any site on the net. But the real beauty of it is that modern computers are all just little whizzing electrons, and those tiny probabilistic particle-waves are highly susceptible to my charms.
These days I'm in a generous mood. I've taken Daniel's journal entries, edited them just a tad, and am sharing them with you and the world. I sure he won't mind.
Don't be shy with your reactions. We're all friends here, right?
InvertedBeast@yahoo.com