21 October 2012
Theo had parked his black 1967 Chevy Impala around the corner from my house.
"A '67 Impala, really?" I laughed, "I like the irony."
"Yeah," Theo grinned, "My life plays like an episode of 'Supernatural,' might as well run with it." He had relaxed a little, now we had some semblance of a plan, and was returning to the self-assured young man who had conned his way into my house. I smiled; he was either brave or foolhardy. Or both. But, despite myself, I liked him.
We climbed inside the car; the interior of the Impala was pristine and I revelled in the smell of old leather and wax. Theo turned the key and the car coughed once, before roaring into life. I could feel the seat humming beneath me as we pulled away - it was like riding a great, inorganic beast into battle. We drove in silence for a few blocks until a distant explosion caught both of our attention.
"Looks like our friend is keeping himself busy," I said, peering into the night. "How much further is...wherever we are going?"
"Only a few more blocks," Theo replied, taking a hard right. "This...contact of mine. You don't want to mention that you're a...well, you know..." He trailed off.
"Daemon? Vampire?" I said, raising one eyebrow, "I tend to keep it to myself. Why, is he a hunter too?"
"He's a sort of specialist," Theo answered, "a werewolf hunter. But he's a little...eccentric."
"This is going to be interesting," I smiled.
Theo pulled the Impala up onto the curb outside a rather run-down apartment block. The once-white window frames were now peeling and rotten, and there were several glass panes missing or replaced with boards. It seemed werewolf hunting was not a well-paying profession. The inside of the building was no better; the stairwell was dark and stank of stale urine. We made our way up to the top floor and to a well-fortified blue door. There were distinct claw marks in the patched-up paintwork.
"Just let me handle this, alright?" Theo looked a little agitated. I nodded, I was curious to meet this hunter of beasts. Anyone who could wrangle a werewolf and live was a mighty mortal indeed. Theo knocked the door three times, then waited. Nothing happened for a good minute, but finally the sound of lifting bolts and keys turning in locks echoed through the empty hallway. The door opened hesitantly, barely a crack at first, slowly revealing the hulking form of a battle-worn man.
"Theodore Randal," the werewolf hunter said, his voice low and gruff, "I haven't seen you for a while. Thought you'd gone a got yourself killed." He ran a scarred hand through his long, matted blonde hair. His face was a patchwork of scars, old and new, and his brilliant blue eyes darted around the corridor before settling on me. He looked like he could be a beast himself, rather than a hunter.
"Vargulf," Theo said, shaking the great man's hand, "Can we come in?"
Trick Or Treat - Part Six • Opuss № I