Werewolf
Part Two

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles, Toki/Skwisgaar.
Warnings: Some gore, animal mutilation.
Summary: Pickles helps out an old friend, but things quickly get strange at the old farmstead.
Notes: Happy Halloween!

This is part two. If you've not read part one, click here

The police came. They questioned Pickles, Rob and Joyce extensively, then allowed Joyce to take a few things with her so she could go to Rob’s house while a crime scene investigation team came in to examine the carnage. Rob took Joyce to his home, after she made the local cops swear they would feed and water her animals since she couldn’t. Being local, they of course said they would.

“This is just stupid,” she said, angry as well as heartbroken. “What the hell did that?”

“I’m more worried about it coming back,” said Rob, driving Joyce’s truck back to his house.

“Well we’ll be safe on the tour bus,” said Pickles.

“Oh no offence but I don’t think I wanna stay on no bus,” said Joyce.

Rob grinned. “Oh you’ll like this bus.”

Joyce did like the bus, very much. The first thing she did was go upstairs and have a long soak in the bath in her guestroom, wondering as she sipped champagne and orange juice if Dethklok needed someone to raise sheep and gather wool, dye it and turn it into things. Somehow she doubted it.

Days passed. Rob’s house was pulled down, the ruins hauled away, and work crews brought in to lay the foundation and set up the frame, install the plumbing and electricity, and get the basics dealt with that Pickles knew he and the guys had absolutely no business being anywhere near. Joyce went back home after the CSI team finished with her house, and pulled down the remains of her ruined shed. She would build a new shed on a different part of the property.

They had not heard the wolf since that night.

***---***

Skwisgaar was asleep, settled in his bed, when he was awakened by something. After a moment he realized that what had disturbed him was Toki getting into bed. It was sunrise, and Toki was damp, freshly washed.

“Toki? Why you gets up now to has a shower?”

“I hads nightsmare, real bads. Wokes up on da floor, feeling horrible.”

“Oh poor Tokis. You feel better now?”

Toki nodded. “Ja.” He drew Skwisgaar close, kissing him. “Ja much better.”

He gently pushed Skwisgaar onto his stomach, kissing his back. Skwisgaar was puzzled but did not object; usually Toki preferred to make love face to face, slowly, but he didn’t mind the occasional bit of rough-housing. He remained passive as Toki drew up his back end, carefully applying the slick lube, then penetrating him.

“You should has nightsmares more often, maybe,” said Skwisgaar.

“No. Don’ts likes dem,” said Toki quietly.

“I likes what’s happening afterwards.”

Toki pushed his stiff cock as deeply as it would go into Skwisgaar. “Ja. Me too. I likes dis part a lots.”

***---***

“MOTHER DOUCHEBAG!”

“Pickles you’re supposed to hit the nail,” said Nathan. “Not your finger.”

“AH FUCK, POPPED MY MOTHER F//guitar riff//KING FINGER OPEN LIKE A F//guitar riff//KING ZIT, MOTHER F//guitar riff//KER!”

“That can hurt,” said Rob.

Nathan put his hammer down. “Let me look ya big baby.”

Pickles held out his injured finger to Nathan, who stared at the blackening nail and the split tip. “Okay yeah that’s… pretty brutal.”

“Get me the damned first aid kit,” said Pickles.

Nathan left to get the kit. Rob picked up a hammer and resumed nailing down floorboards. For a few moments no one spoke.

“Say Pickles,” said Rob. “I realize this is none of my business, but… are things okay between your two guitar players?”

“What do you mean?” asked Pickles.

“Well I saw Toki returning home just after sunrise this morning. He looked like shit.”

Pickles scowled at his injured finger. “Well it’s not like Toki has never gone wandering in the middle of the night before.”

“This was different,” said Rob. “I was watching him. He climbed up the side of the bus to go in through the window.”

Pickles changed his focus from his finger to his friend. “Okay… yeah that’s a little odd.”

“There’s more. He looked like he’d been in a fight with something. He was covered in dirt and blood, and his clothes had been torn all up. Now usually when a man comes crawling home in that sort of shape it’s because he’s got family trouble.”

Pickles shook his head. “No way. If Toki and Skwisgaar were on the outs we’d know it. We’re family. We’d have heard about it.”

“Well there’s something up with him. Maybe you should ask him why he’s running wild in a cornfield all night and crawling home smelling like a graveyard.”

“Is nots you business why my Tokis does anyt’ing,” said a cold voice with a heavy Swedish accent.

Rob sat back on his heels and looked up at him. “Skwisgaar I didn’t mean any disrespect, but maybe we should be concerned. It was only a month ago that Drew Carmichael was found hanging from an apple tree with his guts dragging on the ground. It ain’t safe for him to be tearing around outside by himself in the middle of the night.”

Skwisgaar stepped closer to Rob, staring down at him, blue eyes cold. “I looks afters my Toki. You just worries abouts you house.”

He turned and walked out of the room, exiting the little house. Rob shook his head.

“Shoot, he gets right testy, doesn’t he?”

“Skwisgaar can be very protective,” said Pickles.

Rob shook his. “Protective or not, there’s something strange about Toki.”

“I’ll talk to him. He might just be upset because he’s been away from home so long.”

Rob nodded and resumed hammering floorboards. After a few minutes, Nathan showed up with the first aid kit. He sat down on the floor with it and proceeded to tend to Pickles’ finger.

“Something strange with Toki,” said Nathan.

Rob sat back on his heels, mouth full of finishing nails, and pointed to Nathan victoriously. Pickles rolled his eyes at his friend, then looked at Nathan.

“What do you mean?”

“He was out all night. That’s not like him.”

“It’s totally like him! Does the name Dr. Rockzo mean anything to you?”

“Yeah okay, he’s gone out pissing around and drinking with Rockzo. But not alone. And that’s not all. I saw him from my window last night. He was up on that low hill at the far end of the property.” Nathan paused, as if uncertain whether or not he should say the next words. Finally he spoke. “He seemed to be screaming at the moon. Not howling - screaming. Like he was in pain. Then a little while ago I went up there and found pieces of sheep.”

“Pieces?” said Pickles. “Dood that is messed up. You think Toki’s a werewolf?”

Rob spat out the nails he had in his mouth. “Now hold back on the crazy-train, people. There are no such things as werewolves.”

Pickles and Nathan gazed at each other, each knowing the other’s thoughts. They had seen far too much that was unexplainable, including the Finnish Lake Troll. There was nothing keeping them from believing their Toki could have at some point become a werewolf.

“Dood. I just though of something.”

“What’s that?” asked Nathan.

“No more shows on the night of the full moon.”

“Yeah and what if he bites one of us?” asked Nathan. “Oh that would be AWESOME! We could ALL be werewolves.”

“Earth to Pickles and Nathan,” said Rob. “There are no such things as werewolves.”

“Rob…” began Pickles, but Rob cut him off.

“No! No I won’t hear this bullshit! Okay maybe the guy is screwed in the head, maybe he did eat a sheep. But the only cure for a werewolf is to shoot him with a silver bullet, and ain’t nobody getting shot for something as stupid as being a werewolf!”

“Rob we would never shoot Toki,” said Pickles. “Even if he was a werewolf. We might razz him mercilessly…”

“Oh yeah, and Skwisgaar too,” said Nathan, “For…y’know… being his bitch.”

“But we would never shoot Toki,” said Pickles.

“Well… good…” said Rob. He shook his head. “C’mon, just help me get this house built.”

The phone rang. Sighing, Rob got up to answer it, walking into the livingroom to lift the receiver from the cradle. He talked quietly to someone for a little while, then hung up. He walked back into the kitchen, looking ill.

“That was my neighbour Ted Williams. Something killed his sheep last night and dragged away one of the carcasses.”

***---***

Nathan, Pickles and Rob did not sleep that night. They sat up in the tour bus while Murderface, Skwisgaar and, presumably, Toki slept. Toki went to bed around ten-thirty with Skwisgaar, and Murderface not long afterwards. An uneasy peace settled, and the three sat together, listening.

At just after midnight, they heard something; someone climbing quietly down the side of the bus. Moving quickly and as silently as they were able, they went to the door and cracked it open, peering into the darkness, the only available light from the full moon above. Standing next to the bus was a gigantic form, black as death, the long fur rough and wild. It was larger than a bear, and stank of blood. The eyes were burning red, and as the thing spied them, it grinned, the expression full of madness. It spoke in a voice that seemed to come from a throat packed with grave dirt, in a language none of them knew. Then it lunged at them. Nathan yanked Pickles and Rob back into the tour bus and slammed the door shut just as the monster hit. It bashed the door repeatedly, then laughed. It spoke once more, and then they heard the sound of massive paws running off. Pickles ran to the window, watching the monster bound away, paws leaving flaming prints in the earth.

“I say we revisit the ‘no shooting Toki’ policy,” said Nathan.

“That was a werewolf!” said Rob.

“We know,” said Pickles, watching the thing disappear into the darkness.

“But… but it was a real live werewolf!” said Rob.

“Yeah,” said Nathan. “We get it.”

“BUT IT WAS A WEREWOLF!”

Nathan handed him a beer, then walked over to Pickles. “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know. I mean it’s Toki, it’s our Little Toki! We can’t just shoot him, he’s our friend!”

“He’s also killed a guy,” said Nathan. “He decorated a tree with his guts. How long until he does that to us?”

“Skwisgaar would never forgive us. The band would come apart. Our family…”

Nathan pulled him close, holding Pickles tightly, trying to reassure him. “We’ll talk to Charles. Charlie will know. If there is a way to help Toki, Charles will find it.”

Pickles nodded, sniffling. “Okay. We… we’ll talk to Charles. But if there is no way…?”

Nathan tugged lightly at Pickles’ dreads. “Then I start making us some silver bullets.”

***---***

Pickles and Nathan were still awake when Toki crawled home, filthy and covered in blood, his clothes ripped. He was stumbling towards the tour bus, mindlessly exhausted, wanting only a shower and his own bed. He nearly walked into his friends, who were standing in his way, preventing him from climbing in through the window. He stared at them blankly.

“Where were you all night?” asked Nathan.

Toki shook his head. “Don’ts know. Tired…”

“Toki,” said Pickles, “it’s important. You have to remember where you…”

“I don’ts knows! Gets out of my way, I’s tired! Leaves me alone!”

“Where did the blood come from?” asked Nathan.

“Blood?” Toki looked himself over, and seemed genuinely confused by what he saw. “Why am I covers in blood…?”

Rob appeared just then, walking up to the group. “I just got a call from Joyce. Something tore into Ted Williams’ house last night and ripped him to bits then threw his corpse into a tree.”

“Just like the last one,” said Pickles quietly.

The trio stared at the blood-smeared, ragged, dirty form of Toki Wartooth, returning from a night he claimed not to remember. They watched as Toki walked around them, heading for a shower and bed. Once he was inside the bus, Nathan looked at Rob.

“You got stuff for making bullets?”

Rob nodded, looking shaken. “Yeah I got equipment for casting. I wish to God this wasn’t happening.”

“You and me both,” said Nathan.

“Look we gotta swear not to tell anyone,” said Pickles. “Especially not Skwisgaar.”

“We have to tell Skwisgaar,” said Nathan. “Toki’s his boyfriend, they love each other.”

“Not until after it’s done,” said Pickles. “Then we tell him. If we tell him now he’ll try to stop us.”

“Well do you blame the man?” said Rob. “We’re talking about killing the man he loves.”
 
“Hey we love him too,” said Pickles. “But that thing that we saw last night has to be stopped.”

“Well what about that Charles guy?” asked Rob. “Did he find anything?”

“Nothing,” said Nathan. “No cures. Nothing outside of Hollywood bullshit, anyway.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Yeah well we’re not jumping up and down in glee either,” said Pickles.

“Come on,” said Nathan. “Get your bullet moulds. Pickles help me find some silver. We got a long day ahead of us.”

***---***

The night was clear, and the moon was full and silver-white as Nathan loaded his hunting rifle. Pickles sat on the couch and watched listlessly, thinking about the times he and the guys had gone hunting for elk, moose, and even bear. Pickles wondered vaguely if it was ironic that Nathan had taught Toki to shoot, or just depressing. A little of both he decided.

“You want me to come with you?” asked Pickles.

Nathan shook his head, putting the remainder of the bullets, made of finest quality silver, into his pocket. “No. I kinda don’t want anyone watching while I… you know.”

Pickles nodded. “Yeah. I don’t really wanna see it anyway, I just… y’know. Nathan?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t… let him suffer, a’right?”

“I won’t.”

Pickles mixed himself a drink while Rob sipped a beer on the couch. Nathan left the bus, and Pickles seated himself beside Rob to wait out the ghastly night. It seemed to roll by with agonizing slowness, no sound in the room other than the subdued tick of an antique clock. The pair said nothing, sipping their respective drinks and waiting.

It was almost two in the morning when they heard the shot – a single resounding boom in the distance, a sound only a very large calibre gun could make. Pickles looked up, morbidly curious.

“Nathan got him,” said Rob quietly.

They continued to listen, hearing a faint scream from very far away.

“Toki got him,” said Pickles. “Ah Christ. I don’t wanna go out there lookin’ for…”

There came another shot. Pickles and Rob exchanged glances. “What the hell is going on out there?” asked Rob. “Dammit I wish I knew.”

About a half hour later, the door opened and Nathan stepped inside. He said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, as if unable to face his friends.

“Nathan…?” said Pickles quietly.

“It’s done,” said Nathan, breaking down the rifle and cleaning it. “I shot him.”

There was a long silence. Then Pickles rose to feet to go upstairs to sleep and forget the night ever happened.

***---***

Nathan slowly cleaned his gun, focusing on the task at hand, fighting the images in his head of red eyes burning, and of gleaming white teeth shining in the moonlight. The creature had been coming straight for him, gigantic paws tearing up the ground. The first shot had gone over the beast’s head in the hopes that the thing would stop, and the part that was Toki would emerge, but no such luck. The thing had not been deterred in the least, and Nathan screamed as he was sent rolling when the monster hit. It had tried to bite him but missed, the vicious scythe-like teeth catching only Nathan’s jacket. Man and monster tumbled to a halt, then got up once more. Nathan pulled up his rifle and sighted carefully.

This time the shot hit right between the eyes. The demon dropped, and there was a profound silence. Nathan walked over to the carcass, checking it for signs of life, but it was dead. Not wanting to see if Toki would turn back into himself, Nathan made his way back to the tour bus, weeping the entire way. He paused for a couple minutes to get himself under control before going inside, and finally made himself enter the massive vehicle.

He finished cleaning the gun and put it away, then poured himself a stiff drink. He checked his dethphone and saw Charles had called twice, but he couldn’t make himself talk to him, at least not yet. Right now his mind was on what he was going to tell Skwisgaar when he woke up to find his lover dead at the hand of one of his closest friends.

“Nat’an,” said a soft voice, and Nathan turned sharply to find himself gazing into a pair of blue eyes.

“Skwisgaar. What are you doing up?”

“Comes with me. Is somet’ing you is needing to see.”

Drink in hand, Nathan followed Skwisgaar up the curving staircase to the upper levels, and into his room. Skwisgaar motioned for Nathan to sit, then walked over to the bed, kneeling on the floor to draw something out from underneath. It was a very old box, carved with Norse runes and images of running wolves. He seated himself on the floor and looked to Nathan.

“What’s you know abouts da ulfhednar?”

“Nothing,” said Nathan. “What is that?”

“Ages ago, in da times of da Vikings, an’ da Old Gods, dey were warriors. Dey would smears demselves wit’ ointments made from toxic plants to induce a frenzy, den runs into battle nakeds, save for da skin of an animal. Sometimes bear, sometimes boar… sometimes wolf.”

Nathan had a horrible sinking feeling that he knew where this was going. “Skwisgaar I…”

“Just hears me. Da ulfhednar was great fighters, who fought wit’ da power of da animal dey channel, and beloved by Odin. Dey was da terror of the enemies of da Vikings, and felt no pain, killing wit’ speed an’ savagery. Sometimes dey would even turn into da animal dey channel, but dat nots make him a werewolf. Dey is very different.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” asked Nathan. “After it’s too late?”

“Is nots too late,” said a quiet voice.

Nathan stared, open-mouthed, as a gigantic wolf prowled into view, silvery grey with pale blue eyes. It had to have been six feet high at the shoulders, and it moved over to Skwisgaar, lying beside him on the floor.

“Toki…?” said Nathan.

“Ja. Is me,” said the wolf. “I sorries I nots tells you Nat’an. I woulds have but…”

Nathan leapt out of the chair and pounced on the massive beast, crying into the silky fur. “I thought I killed you!”

“No, nots me. You kills da werewolf.”

“Will you please tell me what the hell is going on?” asked Nathan. “What happened? What was going on?”

“Da night I went out to walk in da cornfield,” said Toki. “Da werewolf waited for me. It bit me, an’ turn me into… somet’ing likes a werewolf, but nots quite. It couldn’ts, because I was ulfhednar, an’ da wolf spirit in me fought it. But da werewolf tried to control me, an’ I woulds put on my skin an’ goes to meet it. Da werewolf would command me to kill, buts I would not kill people. Only animals. Sometimes nots even animals. It all seem likes terrible dream, an’ I woulds wakes up outside… well you saws me.”

“How long have you been one of these things? How do you…?”

The wolf stood up on its back legs, then reached up with its paws to push the skin off as if it were a heavy winter coat. Toki stepped out of the fur and set it aside, then sat on the floor next to Skwisgaar.

“Da skin belongs to my ancestors. Dey were warriors. I found it when I was little an’ learned to use it. I just nevers talk abouts it.”

“This is all too fucking weird,” grumbled Nathan, picking up the heavy fur and looking at it.

Smiling, Toki took the fur and laid it across Nathan’s shoulders, then put the head of the skin over Nathan’s head. Grinning, Nathan stood up to look at himself in the mirror as he stood transformed as a powerful man with the head of a wolf, thick silvery fur growing over his back, and a long shaggy tail hanging down.

“This is awesome. Can I borrow it some night and uh… show Charles?”

“Don’ts rips it,” said Toki dryly, pulling Skwisgaar close, cuddling him.

Nathan slipped off the fur, setting it on a chair, then turned to look at Toki again.

“Toki I am so damned sorry…”

“Is okies. You didn’t know. I should have tolds you.”

“Yeah well I have a question,” said Nathan. “If I shot the werewolf, and the werewolf isn’t you, then who did I shoot?”

***---***

It was just after sunrise when the six people walked to the place in the cornfield where Nathan had killed the werewolf. There was evidence all around of the battle Nathan had with the beast; broken stalks of corn, sprays of blood, and in the middle of the mess was a body lying naked on the ground. Rob walked over to the corpse and turned it over, then pulled back abruptly at the sight of the bullet wound in the skull, and worse, recognition.

“It’s Laurie!” said Rob. “It’s my wife! It can’t be Laurie! I lived with her for three years, she wasn’t a werewolf! She…” He paused, as if a thought came to him. “She woke up one day and just left…”

“Something must have turned her,” said Pickles. “That’s how it works, isn’t it? A werewolf bites you and you become…?”

“So who is the other werewolf?” asked Nathan. “Who turned Laurie?”