"The Pack" - 05/01/2006

"The Pack"
05/01/2006

Ok, I can’t exactly remember how the plot to this got started, but it had something to do with Tony, Bo, and myself, and we were searching for some kind of treasure or mythical artifact. I can’t remember exactly what it was we were hunting for, but it was hidden somewhere up in the mountains. The thing about this little quest was that we knew very well that the areas were being guarded by werewolves, and that the treasure we were looking for was actually hidden inside the skull of one of these beasts. The greater twist, though, was what I'd later realized (through conversation, I think); ...that we were werewolves, also.

We pulled up to a narrow passageway in the snow-covered mountains. We were in Tony's Jeep, but I think it was a different color than it is in waking life. We'd gotten out of the vehicle and began walking slowly through this area that was nothing but high stone walls and snow all around - and was leading into the mouth of a cave. It daytime out, and the sky was a bleak and ominous gray.

At first, we’d been moving cautiously, not knowing exactly how many of these werewolf sentinels were out here, but we knew we only needed to kill a certain one of these things to get what it was we needed, so we planned on making this an in-and-out operation.

As we were going in, the three of us saw something stirring in the cave. It only flashed by for a second, but we could tell that whatever animal was moving around in an off-section of the little cave was alone. Seeing the possibility for a 1-on-1 fight, Tony said something very Vegeta-esque, like; “This shouldn’t take long,” and suddenly started running forward in the snow, throwing off his jacket while sprinting toward the cave - toward the large shadow looming within. He disappeared among the surrounding surrounding shadows and we couldn’t see him transform but - from the sounds of the two monsters fighting in the cave, - it was apparent that he had, seconds before engaging. Bo and I waited outside for a moment, listening to them go at it, and keeping our eyes on our surroundings because we knew the sounds of struggle would attract more wolves to the scene. 

A few moments later, all had gone silent. Tony came striding back out of the cave, proudly - back in his human form - and wearing the tatters of what was left of a shirt and pants (as far as can remember. The detail on what he was wearing was sketchy). The thing was, he came out empty-handed.

When Bo asked where the [whatever it was] was, Tony said something about “not doing all of the dirty work on this little trip.” I remember arguing with him about that because the whole point of trying to do this as quickly as possible was to get out before reinforcements came, and now, one of us was going to have to take the time to go back in. I don’t remember much of the argument, but I think we cut it short and decided to all go back in and get it, because the three of us were in the cave before I knew it.

Within the rocky chamber, Tony was still refusing to get the (whatever it was) and was standing with his arms crossed, defiant. Bo - looking at the corpse of the werewolf that Tony had just killed - didn’t exactly jump at the chance to retrieve the item, neither. Finally I’m like “Fuck..I’ll do it..,” and moved in closer to the hulking mass of flesh and fur, slumped upon the floor. I remember hesitating a little bit, because I had to stick my arm up inside this werewolf’s gaping mouth and pull something down from out of its skull. This wasn't exactly appealing to me. I just stared at the thing - with its lifeless eyes staring back at me - not wanting to put my arm up between those jaws, and Tony said something sarcastically about us “having to hurry up,” mocking me for arguing about hurrying before taking my time with this part. Sooner or later, I got up the nerve and just shoved my arm up into the huge mouth of this thing, closing my fist around [something] and prying it free from what might have been the creature's brain (I still don’t know what the hell it was we went up there for). With our objective in hand, we started running back toward the Jeep.

Upon our return, the inevitable happened. Just as we saw the Jeep in view, streams of these beasts came stampeding out of caves etched into the high mountain walls of the V-shaped canyon in which had parked. There was no way that we were going to make it to the Jeep in time, and we knew it. Their four legs were bringing them directly down the walls - and toward us - faster than our two legs were letting us run toward them and the car.

I drew back my shoulders and threw my coat in the snow. Leaning forward, I could feel myself transform; my muscles and bones expanding and popping into their new shapes; mind racing as if I’d just shot up pure adrenaline. I’ll never forget the feeling of running on all fours - paralleled by Tony and Bo, who had also transformed - directly toward the horde of other werewolves, which were matching speed, in our direction.

Our groups clashed in the middle of the basin, and what followed was an epic battle between our side - outnumbered - and theirs. Bones cracked; blood and gore sprayed along the jagged walls of the mountain’s face; bodies were tackled and slammed up against the Jeep so hard that it cracked the windshield and metal frame. It was just an all out war with the ferocity of a pack of rabid….well….werewolves. (It all felt very Underworld 2-ish.)

I don’t remember whether we actually won - or if we just managed to transform again and escape, when there was a break in the action (which could be considered winning, given the circumstances ) - but, before I knew it, we were back in the Jeep and leaving the mountains, covered in blood from head to toe. As we were driving back, I remember that one of my teeth were loose. Slightly irritated by this, I worked it out of my mouth and threw it out the passenger window. Then I noticed another was loose, and I did the same thing. Then another...and another. Though my mouth was already bloody with residue left over from mauling our opponents, it was starting to gush with my own blood as my teeth were now seeming to fall out out by the dozen. (I never had the old common “my teeth are falling out” dream before now, that I can remember. It figures it takes such a wild situation for me to experience one of the most universally archetypal dream scenarios. Lol.)

Later, we were in some high-rise hotel suite at night. (All my teeth had come back in but I’m still pretty sure it was the same dream.) We were throwing a party that - I think - was to celebrate the victory (and money ) we’d made off of whatever the hell it was that we'd brought down out of the mountains. There was a hell of a lot of people there; good music; low lighting and everything. I can’t remember too much of the detail from then on, but the dream pretty much ended on a hazy, but much appreciated, party atmosphere.

Good stuff.