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Authors: Thom Reese
Tags: Horror
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Jisch, the elderly reyaqc. Tresset’s claws found his belly, twisted, pressed deeper. Jisch fell with a bewildered gaze in his salt-colored eyes. Another form in the shadows—human. Tresset did not hesitate, but bounded forward, slashing, growling, hissing. In all, seven members of the clan would fall before finally Tresset loped off into the forest where he would spend two weeks lying in a narrow river, scraping at sores that could not be seen. Only one thought held him to within a hair’s width of sanity—Dolnaraq. Out there somewhere, Dolnaraq.
CHAPTER SIX
When Dolnaraq awoke, Oskar was gone but the cat remained. The reyaqc’s muscles were of knots and twists and his stomach protested in waves of nausea. But Dolnaraq’s mind was clear. He remembered the incident, the taking of essence, the shocked and fearful expression on the little man’s face, an expression aghast at the betrayal of a friend. Dolnaraq felt glum, but couldn’t fathom quite why this mood had overtaken him. The man meant nothing to him. If he truly respected Dolnaraq at all, he would have freed him weeks ago. There was no bond, no friendship, regardless of how the simple man chose to address him.
The skinny young man who had accompanied Wilhelm on the day of Dolnaraq’s capture brought his food dish for the next several days. The young lad, his dark brown hair perpetually flopping before his eyes, would rush forward in a hunched trot, slip the metal tray into the slot with a quick push, and then race away before Dolnaraq could move to within reach. More than once the young man became tangled in his own lengthy limbs and stumbled to the ground during the process, once spilling Dolnaraq’s dish. The reyaqc went hungry that day.
The cat remained. He would nestle with Dolnaraq and then stroll away to a corner of the cage he’d claimed for his own. Dolnaraq allowed it this freedom and twice actually petted the thing. Its fur was soft, silky, much like the thinning fox hair that Dolnaraq bore in tufts about his own form. Dolnaraq considered infusing from the cat, but knew the danger of introducing yet another species into his mix. Human and one animal breed—that was the limit. Others had attempted drawing from an additional species. Most had perished for their efforts. The few who survived had become as imbeciles and lunatics, babbling and pawing, losing all power of reason and purpose.
* * * *
Oskar returned the day Dolnaraq slew the cat. The creature had been irritable that day. Dolnaraq understood very little of feline behavior and only knew that the thing had become a pest. It raced back and forth across the cage, sometimes lunging at the flies that populated the space. It screeched for no apparent reason and would not leave Dolnaraq to peace or solitude. Finally, the slim creature leaped into Dolnaraq’s lap, and, seeming to settle, curled up as if to sleep. The bemused reyaqc gazed down at the huddled ball of fur, the hint of a smile on his narrow lips. Just as he stroked the silky fur for the first time, the cat hissed and scratched Dolnaraq’s forearm with its extended claws. Dolnaraq was quick, snatching the cat up and biting deeply into its neck. Blood splattered into Dolnaraq’s left eye and oozed down his chest. Dolnaraq had not planned on slaying the little nuisance, but had acted on instinct alone. Now the thing was dead and there was nothing else to do but to consume the carcass. It had been long weeks since Dolnaraq had had truly fresh meat and he wondered why he hadn’t thought to devour the cat sooner.
It was during this meal that Oskar returned. “Oh, no, no, no, my young friend. This is not right. We must talk, you and I.”
Dolnaraq tore another piece of hindquarter free and chewed.
“What are you, my friend? I know you are not a werewolf as Wilhelm proclaims. But what are you, really?”
Dolnaraq cocked his head. The man was addressing him as one human would address another.
“You do understand
CHAPTER SIX
When Dolnaraq awoke, Oskar was gone but the cat remained. The reyaqc’s muscles were of knots and twists and his stomach protested in waves of nausea. But Dolnaraq’s mind was clear. He remembered the incident, the taking of essence, the shocked and fearful expression on the little man’s face, an expression aghast at the betrayal of a friend. Dolnaraq felt glum, but couldn’t fathom quite why this mood had overtaken him. The man meant nothing to him. If he truly respected Dolnaraq at all, he would have freed him weeks ago. There was no bond, no friendship, regardless of how the simple man chose to address him.
The skinny young man who had accompanied Wilhelm on the day of Dolnaraq’s capture brought his food dish for the next several days. The young lad, his dark brown hair perpetually flopping before his eyes, would rush forward in a hunched trot, slip the metal tray into the slot with a quick push, and then race away before Dolnaraq could move to within reach. More than once the young man became tangled in his own lengthy limbs and stumbled to the ground during the process, once spilling Dolnaraq’s dish. The reyaqc went hungry that day.
The cat remained. He would nestle with Dolnaraq and then stroll away to a corner of the cage he’d claimed for his own. Dolnaraq allowed it this freedom and twice actually petted the thing. Its fur was soft, silky, much like the thinning fox hair that Dolnaraq bore in tufts about his own form. Dolnaraq considered infusing from the cat, but knew the danger of introducing yet another species into his mix. Human and one animal breed—that was the limit. Others had attempted drawing from an additional species. Most had perished for their efforts. The few who survived had become as imbeciles and lunatics, babbling and pawing, losing all power of reason and purpose.
* * * *
Oskar returned the day Dolnaraq slew the cat. The creature had been irritable that day. Dolnaraq understood very little of feline behavior and only knew that the thing had become a pest. It raced back and forth across the cage, sometimes lunging at the flies that populated the space. It screeched for no apparent reason and would not leave Dolnaraq to peace or solitude. Finally, the slim creature leaped into Dolnaraq’s lap, and, seeming to settle, curled up as if to sleep. The bemused reyaqc gazed down at the huddled ball of fur, the hint of a smile on his narrow lips. Just as he stroked the silky fur for the first time, the cat hissed and scratched Dolnaraq’s forearm with its extended claws. Dolnaraq was quick, snatching the cat up and biting deeply into its neck. Blood splattered into Dolnaraq’s left eye and oozed down his chest. Dolnaraq had not planned on slaying the little nuisance, but had acted on instinct alone. Now the thing was dead and there was nothing else to do but to consume the carcass. It had been long weeks since Dolnaraq had had truly fresh meat and he wondered why he hadn’t thought to devour the cat sooner.
It was during this meal that Oskar returned. “Oh, no, no, no, my young friend. This is not right. We must talk, you and I.”
Dolnaraq tore another piece of hindquarter free and chewed.
“What are you, my friend? I know you are not a werewolf as Wilhelm proclaims. But what are you, really?”
Dolnaraq cocked his head. The man was addressing him as one human would address another.
“You do understand
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