The Wolf's Loathing

I was the first and last one on the base that Christmas. Everyone else had left.

The arctic winter was closing in and I had two days to complete my experiment and wrap everything up before the plane came back to get me. 

I was in no rush to get home. My work was basically my life and Christmas was to be a lonely holiday, as it always was. An bleak orphan season. An unwanted gift from no-one. No tree, no dinner, no family. Best not to even think about it.

Only my work gave me meaning.

My notes were written up save for the last phase. That November I had successfully tracked, caught and sedated a rare ice wolf cub, a female, which was in itself enough to secure me a further grant - these wolves were largely legend and to catch one was unheard of - but the real prize was to bring one back to the States for study and maybe even cross-breed it with a timber wolf.

This final two days was to get the cub ready for transport, take a flight to Quadead and then by truck finally to New York.

The animal was well. I gave it another shot for the journey and after a few hours I had the special cage finished for the cargo hold on the Cessna. 

The residual tasks were purely domestic. I was good at leaving. To switch the base power to sleep mode. To seal off the water supply. To check the that the labs and sample fridges were locked and finally to secure all the doors from the inside bar the side entrance to the airstrip, where I would leave.

It was during that last night that I began to have nightmares. I'd had bad dreams before, especially when my Sister died - the harshness of the environment stirred it all up my mind - that hollowness - but these were different, so much more realistic and truly truly unsettling.

I'd had my appendix removed just a month before joining the team in the Base.

In my nightmares something was re-opening my surgery. Something with talons; in the dark with a single long, razor sharp claw was slowly re-cutting the incision. It was when the entity nuzzled the blood pouring from the suture and reached deep into my abdomen, pulling out my hugely swollen appendix and inserting something else, that I began to scream.

Several times during the small hours I woke up screaming and in a cold sweat. The third time I was so shaken that I had to get up, check all the doors and once happy they were sealed, I made a cup of tea and got back into bed.

I was used to the abyssal nature of nights alone and as is the case with all dreams, even nightmares, only tatters of what I had experienced remained, but I still felt the threat of whatever had violated my wound. 

It was true that the procedure back in New York had been a problem. I had been late pulling together all the paperwork and permissions and I'd forgotten the rule about the damnable organ. Operated on in September, the doctor had told me in had been touch and go. My appendix was in fact septic and it was pure luck that probably saved my life. Had it burst, well, I'm glad it didn't. As a result of the infection, my wound, although clean and tidy, was still red and prominent when I got to the arctic in October. That had been two months ago and it still felt tight and uncomfortable now I was going. 

I promised to have the surgeon take another look at it once I was home for the Christmas break. I had had an ill feeling about my arctic assignment and I certainly didn't want to add to my anxieties as I faced the top of the year alone. Besides, I had other cuts of my own that needn't get neighbours.

It was time to leave. 

The plane landed and the pilot met me at the side entrance, where we placed the wolf casket safely on the trolley and pushed it gently over the mesh track to the cargo bay, where we stowed the young canine in the hold. I gave it one last shot for the journey. It moaned and stared at me, confused, before closing it's wild eyes again.

I sat down and buckled myself in. The pilot undertook his system checks and I stared out of the window into the frozen polar mist back in the direction of the base. 

I was sure I saw a light in the side corridor come on and then go off, before the door opened and something walked out heading towards the plane. The arctic fog was too strong to make out what it was but it revealed itself once it had walked along the wing and glared at me through the window.

It was a wolf.

An ice wolf, an adult female and the very stuff of myth and legend.

No human had ever seen an adult before. This was first contact.

I could see in its feral eyes a mixture of both sorrow and loathing. An unfathomable loathing burning in its pupils and aimed squarely at me. 

I knew then that this creature on the wing was the cub's mother and I was taking away it' daughter.

It bared it's huge teeth and I could sense the terrible hatred it bore for me seeping like vapour through the glass pane.

It snarled loudly and the hairs on the back of my neck rose.

You ready?

What? What? Do you not see what's on the wing? 

Huh! 

The pilot turned to look and it was obvious he could see nothing, except the thick icy fret closing in.

We've got to go now. OK?

Yes. Yes. OK.

I stuttered and the pilot checked that I was alright one final time before starting the engine and taking off.

I peered back as we rose and there, despite the mist, I saw a woman standing on the ice as clear as day.

Have you got anything to drink?

There's coffee in the flask.

Anything stronger?

Try the small cupboard. There's a bottle of Scotch.

Thanks.

I guzzled the glass of malt in the hope it would steady my nerves. It didn't but another shot numbed me enough to drift off for the rest of the flight.

We've landed. Quadead.

Oh! Right. Thank you. How was it?

Uneventful. We flew through the snow sprays fine. I was more worried about you. You were dreaming and talking or something in your sleep.

What was I saying?

It was hard to make out really but it sounded like you were speaking. No, not speaking, snarling. Like a wolf. It gave me quite a turn!

I got off the plane feeling shaken by my own apparition in the arctic and the news that the pilot had given me.

I tried desperately to remain calm and threw myself into organising the next leg of the transportation for the cub in the cage.

The sedative was still active and the casket securely housed in the faculty's truck, the driver and I set off downstate for New York City.

Fortunately the dean, my boss, had provided some packed food and coffee in the cab and by the time we got going I was hungry. Actually I felt ravenous, as if I hadn't eaten in days and I devoured the meat sandwiches in minutes. 

Whoah! Steady on! Save some for me!

The driver stared as I loudly munched.

Conscious that I was acting strange I apologised and re-packed the rest of the food for him.

Thanks.

No problem.

The trouble was I was still hungry. Insatiably so. 

I told the driver that I needed a pee, so we stopped in a secluded layby by a forest close to upper New York.

It was then that I jumped on the man and bit deeply into his soft neck.

I threw my head backwards, snarling and gnashing and ripped out his throat, which I consumed on the spot, hot blood pouring down my front. 

The wolf cub thrashed and threw itself around within the cage. 

I let it out and pointed to the dead driver's carcass steaming at the side of the truck.

Over the next half hour the cub and I devoured every last scrap of the man, tearing, ripping, chewing. At the end there were some bigger bones left like the skull, pelvis and the femur, which we scattered further in the forest.

We returned to the vehicle and I locked up the cub once more.

It was clear to me that I had changed. 

The nightmare had taken form. I was lupine, although I remained in my human shape throughout.

We reached my apartment near Central Park and I drove the truck to the basement garage. Dispensing with the cage, I carried the cub to the lift and to my door. It licked my face and I truly enjoyed it's affection.

The nightmare quality of the previous day faded and a more dream-like ecstasy took me over. For the first time in years I felt that I wasn't alone. 

That night I curled up by the fire next to the creature. It was Christmas Eve and outside we could hear carol singers belting out God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen on the street corner. 

Subtle fairy colours flashed in the windows opposite painting up the city night like mini northern lights and a feeling of complete peace swept over me as the canine nuzzled in search of milk.

It was at midnight, the breaking of Christmas Day, when it happened.

A sudden and excruciating pain ripped through my abdomen and I felt a dreadful pressure on my appendix suture from within. It swelled and I began to scream in agony.

I rolled around on the carpet, all the while the cub nosing my face and hands. It was excited.

With a terrible screech my stomach bloated massively and offering no resistance, my weak incision split wide open, bright gore spewing out everywhere.

At first there was stillness, but then I screamed and screamed as an object began to emerge from my wound. It was furry and matted in grue. A snout! A neck followed, a back, fore and hind legs and finally a long tale. 

The enormous white, blood-spattered wolf stood erect before my desecrated body lying limp on the floor. It painted and turned to face the cub. 

The animals licked each other's faces and lowed, their tales wagging and ears pricked up. 

I could feel the soft wet tongue of the cub's caresses.

But how?

I was clearly torn apart and quite dead.

But then the truth dawned on me. 

I was the enormous wolf.

The transformation was complete and my old self was lying in a pile by my paws.

The urge to leave and feel the night's wild air on my back overcame me. I was always good at leaving and signalling for the cub to follow, we both entered the freedom of the December darkness and bounded to the canopy of Central Park.

The journey North would take weeks, but changing from human to wolf and back, when we needed, allowed us to feed on a variety of flesh, although the growing scent of seal meat drew us ever northward to the distant frozen planes of the arctic ice sheet.

Here, on the endless unspoilt snows at the top of the world, our lives would be finally fulfilled alongside our ancient Mother, who was waiting for us, her children, for whom she howled that Christmas at the ever-watchful moon,

My Sister and I.