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The Birth of Jonathan by C.J. Ellisson
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Not rated by the Author.
My readers love Jonathan, the werewolf in Vampire Vacation. The third book in the series will focus on Jon's story, but I had to tell some of his beginning to appease them until then.
Author's note: This is a Flicker of Madness contest entry for April 24th. Writing prompt: Were Creature.
The limit was 500 words.
Enjoy!
Jonathan walked down the sidewalk by the light of the full moon. The rhythm of his even gait on the pavement reached his ears as a sigh of contentment escaped his lips. What a great night to blow off steam after that last exam.
The party off-campus promised to be a good one and he was looking forward to that first beer. A snap of a twig to his right surprised him and brought his head around. What the hell is that? Someone's dog?
Between the trees, large eyes peered out at him from a huge head, and saliva dripped from a sharp-toothed, gaping maw. Jon felt his pulse speed up and recognized that this thing was no dog. Adrenaline surged through his body, and his instincts screamed for him to run.
Jon's feet pounded the ground as he took off without a backward glance. The sound of something large crashed through the underbrush and he heard a low angry growl. His legs pumped faster than they ever had for the track team as he raced down the dark street for his very life.
About a hundred yards down, there was no sound of pursuit behind him, but he stole a look over his shoulder anyway. As if it waited for that moment, the huge furry beast launched itself at him and tackled him to the ground before a sound could escape Jon’s throat.
Long sharp teeth ripped into the flesh at his shoulder and a strong jaw closed down on the bone causing it to a snap. Heat and wetness coursed down his back and thick claws ripped his shirt and skin beneath.
An agonized scream erupted from his throat and then mercifully, all went black.
******
Jon woke to the foggy morning light. The sun had just risen and its weak rays seemed to pierce his skull; a painful reminder that all was not well. He rolled over in the grass next to the sidewalk and glanced down at his body to see dried blood all over his shredded clothing.
The previous night was a blur in his mind; What the hell was that thing that attacked me?
Broken images flashed to him like a dream through the painful haze. Raw and scratchy from the screams, his throat hinted it was not a dream. The blood confirmed it.
Jon lifted his hand to push aside the ragged fabric at his shoulder; smooth skin met crisp morning air. His fingers probed inside; confirmed what his eyes had seen, the flesh was unbroken and whole.
A pulsing rage replaced the confusion, it wrapped around his mind and instilled an urgent sense of vengeance. The pain in his head and throat vanished; he jumped to his feet and felt overwhelmed by the dark desire to kill his attacker. Within moments, a sense of clarity trickled in beyond the anger and blood lust, Jonathan took a deep breath and tried to control his racing heart. He felt a bit more in control of these new feelings, but not much.
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