The Return

Contents

Arrival ⚓

The sudden screech of train wheels braking jostled Aires awake. It took a moment for the world to come to focus, and when it did, he found himself in an old passenger car, the kind that folks rode out west back when it was known only as the frontier. The seats were rough and the air was dry and hot. Looking out the window, a sea of dusty plains stretched out before him, with only a rickety old station hinting at signs of civilization.

The train screeched to a halt, and the engine sighed a billowing cloud of steam. It seemed he was the only one on the train, as not even a ticket inspector came to escort him off. After shaking his legs to wake them up, he quietly left the coach, and found himself in the middle of an empty, abandoned station. Behind large holes in the wood walls, he could see a town - or at least, the remains of a town - across a dust-covered street, situated against the foot of a mesa. There wasn’t a soul to be seen anywhere.

Where the hell am I? He wondered, listening to the dry dirt crunch beneath his boots. As he approached the town, he felt a strange sense of apprehension, as if someone was watching him from afar. But no matter where he looked, all he saw were empty houses, boarded storefronts, and the dilapidated ruins of buildings long forgotten. A tumbleweed drifted by and bounced off his shoe. He pulled his smartphone out of his pocket, but he had no signal.

Just then, a great roar made him jump. The train - its whistle had gone off, and plumes of dirty smog erupted from its stack. He watched in horror as it started inching away from the station, then broke into a sprint when he realized it was picking up speed.

“Wait!” He shouted, but he was too far away. The train was matching his pace now, and by the time he had reached the tracks, it was already beyond the edges of the town. He had been stranded.

“Tough luck, ’ey young feller?”

Aires whipped around to see a tall figure leaning against a pole. The figure wore a pair of faded overalls over a worn plaid shirt, and a wide brimmed hat that covered his face. His voice was old and cracked.

“Who are you?” Aires demanded.

“Don’t worry young feller, I ain’t here to rob ye.” He pulled his hat down some more. “Not like I could take ye anyhow.”

Aires was taken aback for a moment. “Um, okay. Can you at least tell me where I am?”

The old man unfolded his arms. “Y’know, yer the first train t’ come through here in some time.” He then started walking back towards the town. After a moment of confusion, Aires followed him across the dusty street and into an old hotel. While the outside looked abandoned and rundown, the inside was fully furnished and clean, with high-class chairs and sofas arranged into living spaces, art pieces displayed museum-like on each wall, and electric lighting in each room. The floor was made of polished hardwood, though there were clear markings where the old man had walked back and forth perhaps thousands upon thousands of times.

The old man walked over to one of the couches and fell down with a prolonged sigh.

“Whew,” he exhaled. “Get to be my age, you’ll understand.” He lazily pointed his finger at a chair, and Aires was shocked to see his hand was incredibly calloused, gray, and covered in hair thick enough to be fur. “Take a seat there, young feller.”

Aires picked a chair across from the old man, and fiddled his fingers nervously.

“What’s yer name?”

“Aires.”

The old man chuckled. “Aires? That Spanish or somethin’? You don’t look like no Mexican to me.”

“It’s just a name,” Aires muttered.

“Relax, I’m only teasin’. Ye’ kin call me Cole.”

Aires smiled politely. “You live here by yourself?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

The old man paused for a moment. “People don’t really appreciate our kind.”

Aires frowned. “What do you-” As he asked, the old man reached for his hat and pulled it off, revealing the head of a gray wolf. Aires found he couldn’t move from his chair. He could only watch in fascinated horror as the wolf’s lips moved and the old man’s voice came out.

“Yeah, I been kicked outta too many cities to count. The only place for people like me is one without people at all.” The wolf head nodded towards him. “And what about you?”

Aires struggled to find the words. “W-wh-what about me?”

The wolf looked offended. “Well, you just like me ain’t ye? Where’s your home?”

“I-i’m-i’m not-”

“Don’t take me for a fool, boy. Look at yourself. Tell me you ain’t one a me.”

Aires slowly lifted his hands, expecting to see his normal skin. Instead, he found his fingers and arms awash in light brown fur, with his palm replaced by black, calloused bulbs like the footpad of a big cat, and claws jutting where his fingernails once were. Looking down at his body, he saw a great mane flowing down his shoulders and over his body, and beneath his chair dangled a thin tail with a dark brown bulb of fur on its end.

Aires shuddered and felt his face. Whiskers tickled his hands first, but then he felt a large nose protruding forward, and great fangs where his teeth once were, like a lion’s teeth.

“Whassa matter?” Asked Cole. “You never look in a mirror before?”

Aires wondered if he could speak. “No, I-I didn’t-I mean, I never-”

Cole’s mouth twisted to one side. “Looks like ye got some things ye ain’t figured out yet. That’s alright.”

Aires looked up at him. “No, you don’t understand.”

“And neither do ye by the looks of it.”

Aires studied his paws. “I must be dreaming.”

Cole shook his head. “Nope, I’m just as real as the fur on yer face. Ye prolly had a rough day. There’s a room upstairs ye can take. Won’t no one disturb ye. Take as much time as you need.”

Aires thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I probably just need rest. Thank you.” He looked up only to realize the old wolf was already gone.

Discovery ⚓

Aires opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the window. It was the first time he could remember waking up to the sun, and not to an alarm clock. It would’ve been nice, had he not been laying on a rock-hard bed in the middle of an abandoned old western town with a crazy wolf-man hybrid thing sleeping in the other room. He checked his phone again - still no signal.

Sighing, he kicked his feet - or rather, his paws - off of the bed. It was still so bizarre looking down to see the large, digitigrade legs of a lion, and yet it didn’t feel as strange as it should’ve. It actually felt almost familiar, as though he’d done it once before a long time ago and simply couldn’t remember. Nonetheless, he put on his clothes and headed downstairs.

Warm smells of coffee and food wafted from the kitchen, drawing him in by his nose. Spread across the kitchen counters was an assortment of freshly cooked food: piles of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, greasy sausage, sliced ham, and buttered grits. A percolator gurgled and hissed with freshly brewed coffee. A newspaper rustled nearby, and Aires looked up to see Cole browsing it with a pipe in his mouth.

“Well don’t just gawk at it.” The old wolf said. “Help yerself!”

Aires didn’t need persuading. The long train ride had left him famished. He soon had a plate piled with steaming food and wasted no time in eating it.

“Heh, slow down there. Ye givin’ me heartburn.”

Aires thanked him between bites. “So what do you do here, Cole?”

“Mostly keep ter myself. Spend time cleaning up the ol’ place. Every now and then I’ll go out fer supplies.”

Aires raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

“Next town over, a course.”

“There are other towns nearby?”

Cole looked at him. “A course there’a other towns! What’d you think, we were out in the middle a nowhere?” He looked back at his paper. “They’re just not all that easy ta get ta.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Aires.

Cole sighed. “How kin I explain. This place has a tendency ta…oh, how should I say it…keep people. They mostly come by accident, like you, but then somethin’ keeps ’em’ from leavin’, keeps ’em stuck here.”

“I haven’t seen anyone else.”

“Oh, they find their way out eventually. But it ain’t never easy.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

Cole raised his bushy eyebrows. “I reckon at first, yeh. But over th’ years, I grew fond a’ the place, and of the people passin’ through. So I stayed. Ain’t seen any new faces for a while, though. Not until you, at least.”

Aires looked out the window. “How far’s the nearest town?”

“‘bout a three hour walk from here. Just follow the road south. You might wanna wait ’till dusk though. Sun’s mighty harsh durin’ the day.”

And so Aires spent the day wandering the town, peering into the old buildings. Some had signs of recent activity, like relatively clean floors, neatly arranged furniture, and even some flowers strewn about. Others, however, had been clearly empty for quite some time. He wondered how often other people came through the town, marooned by the curious trains that brought them here.

He had been looking behind an old general store when he noticed the heat of the sun beaming down on him. Realizing he couldn’t sweat anymore, he started panting to try and cool himself off. But as he turned to go back to the hotel, a distant noise caught his ear. It was a kind of strange meld between a scream, a howl, and a roar, like multiple different animals crying out at the same time.

Looking into the distance, he noticed a strange blur moving quickly across the horizon. It glided across the ground with the speed and grace of a cheetah in full sprint, but had a body like a moose. He watched as it tore a trail through the desert and eventually disappeared behind a cloud of dust.

Walking back into the relative cool of the hotel, Aires filled himself a glass of water. Cole was still reading the paper. “I saw something outside,” Aires said. “Some kind of weird creature.”

Cole answered without looking up from his paper. “Yep, I been hearin’ it. First heard it yesterday, ‘round the same time you showed up.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Cole humphed. “Heck no, and I ain’t keen to find out. Thing looks like it could chase ye clear to Kentucky. Long as it ain’t fixin’ to come into town, I’d rather leave it be.”

Later that day as the sun was starting to set, Aires was finishing his travel preparations. He had packed a few skins of water, a handful of jerky, and a bit of fruit (though in his current state, fruit tasted odd and unsettled his stomach). It felt strange pulling a bag over his shoulders and having it sit on top of his mane, but he managed to make it work.

He looked to Cole, who was sitting in one of the loungers with a pipe in his muzzle.

“Well, I’m heading off,” Aires said. “Thank you for everything.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome.” Cole said absently. “Remember ye kin always come back.”

Aires smiled. “Thanks, but I’m ready to head back home. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

With that, Aires walked out into the dusky town. The sky was a mix of vibrant reds and blues, and there was a crisp coolness to the dry air that made his wet nose wrinkle. Holding onto one of the straps of his bag, he started down the southern road.

It was strange not hearing anything but the howl of the wind, the patter of loose dirt and pebbles, and the soft rustling of what little vegetation dotted the land. It was like walking on the surface of Mars. He had this nagging sensation of being completely out of place, not just in terms of where he was, but who he was.

He looked up into the sky. The clouds seemed to shift and transform at an unusually fast pace, growing and shrinking and changing colors like oil paint bleeding into water. He looked back down at his big, unwieldy paws, his bushy mane, his elongated feet that could no longer fit into his boots. It had to be a dream.

Just then, his ears picked up a distant noise. At first he felt elated, as it sounded like the high-pitched squealing of train brakes. But when he noticed the deep, growl-like undertones carried in the wind, he felt his heart sink, followed by a feeling of impending dread. He strained to listen some more, and not long after that first sound there came another, this one slightly closer. It was that same howling, screaming roar that he’d heard that afternoon, from that creature he’d told Cole about. It was close. Real close. And here he was standing like a sore thumb in the middle of the desert, with nowhere to hide.

The sun was getting low in the sky, and Aires wasn’t sure whether to continue or turn back. It had only been 20 or 30 minutes, and with that thing out here, there’s no way he could make it all the way to town. He’d have to go back, whether he wanted to or not.

Just as he was turning back, a sight on the horizon made him freeze. There was a dark shape amidst the sea of sand and rock. It was moving: a large, furry creature hunched over something underneath it. Though the creature faced away from him, he could see a bright blood-red stain on the ground where its face was. It whipped its head back and forth and something tore free in its mouth. He only saw it for a split second, but it was just enough to see the waving of a disembodied arm.

All of a sudden, the creature stopped cold, sending ice through Aires’ blood. He wasn’t sure if it had heard him or smelled him, or if it had just had its fill of whatever poor soul was its most recent capture. But suddenly the creature’s head whipped around, and its wide, sunken black eyes looked directly at him.

Aires turned and broke into a sprint. Not thinking, not even looking. All he could hear was the deep panting of his own breath, the howl of the wind in his ears, the sound of his footpads striking the dusty earth, and the horrid screams of the creature behind him. Howling, roaring, shrieking. His new form had given him a burst of speed he could barely control, but he didn’t know if it would be enough to carry him all the way back.

He looked behind him, and against the deep blue of the dusky sky he saw the black silhouette running towards him on all fours, a massive cloud of dust behind it. Fresh panic coursed through his body, and he ran with renewed vigor, racing to escape the otherworldy creature that pursued him. The desert became a meaningless blur, an endlessly repeating plane of nothingness. He didn’t even know if he was going in the right direction. He could barely see the mesa in the darkness. He wondered if he should just give up, just lay down, bare his throat, and hope for a quick death. But his legs would not allow it. Even if he’d chosen death, his body still carried him, still pushed him. He could not be prey. He would not.

Large, dark shadows took form in the distance, and Aires noticed with elation that they were buildings. Though his legs burned and ached, and his chest straining, he sped up those last few hundred feet across the dirt road towards the old inn. It was the only secure building he knew of, and Cole would probably have a gun. As he got close, and between breaths, he started shouting “Cole! Cole!”

Before he knew it, the front door had opened just enough for him to run in. Without looking, he leaped up the front stairs into the doorway and fell into the back of a sofa, spinning head over heels and landing on his shoulder. He heard the door slam shut behind him and a loud thud as the creature threw its full weight into it. Standing on the other side was Cole, his shoulder pressed to its center. The old wolf fastened several deadbolts while the monster screamed and roared and tackled and scratched at the door.

“-got me out of bed for this!?” Cole shouted, though his words were drowned out by the monster’s cries. Aires got up and rushed over to help, and with the two of them, held the door fast against the beast. After what felt like ages, the creature gave out an underworldly shriek that rattled Aires’ spirit just as much as it did his ears, and heavy plodding footsteps led away from the inn. When all was quiet, Cole sighed and sank to the floor.

“Thank you,” Aires said as he fought to catch his breath. His entire body burned, and he winced as he rubbed at the spot on his neck and shoulders where he landed.

“Good God,” Cole said. “Boy, I seen many a beast in my day, but that thing…”

“It caught me just outside town,” Aires panted. “It..it looked like it had killed someone.”

“Killed someone?” Cole raised his eyebrow, stood up, and adjusted his pants. “Well now.”

“I-I didn’t see who it was,” Aires managed. “I just s-saw a hand, and…” Aires raised and looked at his own paws, then closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the door.

Cole squinted at him, then sighed and shook his head. “Well, what’re ye gonna do about it?”

Aires looked at him and blinked. “What do you mean?”

Cole pensively chewed at his lip. “Well, seems to me like you gotta little dilemma. If’n ye wanna get outta town, yer gonna hafta deal with this thing first.”

Aires just kept staring at him for a few moment, then barked out a laugh. “What am I gonna do, shoot it?”

Cole raised his eyebrows. “Well I ain’t tellin’ you to do anythin’. I’m just tellin’ you to do somethin’. What that somethin’ is is your business.”

Aires just looked at him with his head cocked. He couldn’t imagine what the old wolf meant. Try and sneak past the thing? Trap it? Kill it?

“Sleep on it,” Cole suggested before turning and walking upstairs.

Aires sighed deeply and rested for another moment before pushing himself up onto his feet. As he prepared himself for bed, he wondered if this truly was a dream, whether sleeping within the dream would help him wake from it. As he pondered these thoughts, and his thumping heart settled, he fell asleep.

Hunt ⚓

The morning was crisp and bright, yet Aires woke in pain. His neck and shoulders were taut, as though someone had taken the muscle and stretched it. The rest of his body was still sore, but less so. A thankful improvement over the previous night. He looked outside the window, but the town and the desert were just as quiet and empty as they had been the last two days.

He went downstairs to once again find Cole sitting at a table with a paper in his hand and a pipe in his mouth. An old phonograph in the corner bellowed out a slow ragtime tune. Once again the counter was laid out with a bountiful spread, but Aires wasn’t quite in the mood to eat.

“So,” said Cole, “you know what you’re gonna do?”

“Good morning to you too,” Aires mumbled as he took a sip of coffee. Cole said nothing, but raised his eyebrow. Aires lowered his cup and sighed. “No, I don’t.”

Cole shifted in his seat, groaning and sighing as he did. “Well, the way I sees it, you got three options.” He listed off each one with a furry finger. “One, ye find some way to sneak past the thing. Kinda tricky out here without no carriage n’ no train. Two, ye do nothin’ and lay low here wit’ me.”

Aires leaned forward. “What’s three?”

“You know what three is,” Cole gruffed.

Aires set down his coffee. “Kill it, is what you’re saying.”

Cole raised a paw defensively. “Now don’t get all uppity. Yer the one wants to leave town so bad. Way I sees it, ye gotta get to it before it gets to ye. How ye do that though, well…” he went back to reading his paper.

Aires thought for a moment. Cole was right. If he wanted to leave, he’d have to either evade or stop the monster. And short of trapping it somewhere, he’d probably have to kill it. The thought of hunting down that thing made his fur stand on end, but he didn’t have much choice. “I’ll do it,” he said, “but I’ll need a gun or something.”

“Ain’t got no guns,” Cole replied, “but I got somethin’ might help ya.” He put down his paper, pushed himself onto his feet, and started for upstairs. “Stay put.”

Aires waited, listening to the distant sounds of footsteps and items shuffling. After a few minutes, Cole came back downstairs carrying, of all things, a bow and quiver.

“Here,” said Cole.

Aires scoffed as he took the bow. “What am I supposed to do wi-” But as he looked at it, a strange feeling of familiarity came over him. Something about the bow stood out to him - its design, its texture, the worn pattern on the grip. A similar one belonged to a friend - a very good friend - a long time ago. In fact, it looked identical. Aires glanced up at Cole. “Where did you get this?”

“No matter. You know how to use it?”

Aires looked back down at the bow. He didn’t have much experience, but when he was younger, he’d watch his friend practice for hours at a time. “Yeah.”

“Good. I ain’t fixin’ to treat arrow wounds. Or bites.”

Aires slung the quiver over his shoulder. “Well, I ain’t fixin’ to get bit. You know of a good place where I can practice?”

Cole nodded his head towards the door. “Down the street’s an old warehouse. Good 40 feet long. Should give ye enough room.”

Aires nodded and made for the door. Before heading out, he cracked it open and peeked his head outside, looking for any signs of the creature. But the town was as ghostly quiet as ever. The only hints of the creature existing were huge claw-like gashes on the steps, the front porch, and on the door itself. Seeing how deep they were, he was surprised the door held as long as it did.

He made the walk to the warehouse without incident and started practicing. The first few shots were terrible, but as he re-learned the motions and muscle memory, he became more confident. He’d set up some cloth targets on the far wall, and after a couple of hours could hit close to the center pretty consistently. He wasn’t a sharpshooter, that’s for sure, but he got close enough. With a beast that size, he’d still be on target.

Rather than go searching for the beast, Aires decided to wait until the beast came to him. For several days, he spent his time either sitting on the roof of the inn surveying the desert for signs of it, and practicing his shooting in the warehouse. A few times he saw its shadow cross the desert, but it never came close to the town, instead circling far around it. He couldn’t get any sense of its behavior, other than it seemed to always run.

One day, he got the idea to lure the beast in with food and water. Using a couple of old horse troughs, he filled one with water and the other with scraps of pork and beef. The smell was unbearable after a few hours in the sun, and Cole cursed him out about it more than once, but Aires was certain it would lure in the creature. He set the troughs close to the front of the inn and sat by one of the windows on the ground floor, where he would have perfect sight and a clear shot if it approached.

For hours he sat there at the window, staring and waiting for the thing to approach. His arm started to get tired, and though his eyelids felt heavy, adrenaline kept them from closing. Cole was sitting nearby, and he could feel the old wolf’s yellow eyes on him. But he didn’t care.

Just before dusk, a soft clawing sound came to his ears, and his entire body jolted awake. Nocking an arrow, he glanced out the window to see the hulking shape of the beast shuffling down the street towards the troughs. This is it, he thought as his fingers absently drew on the arrow. The creature looked around almost nervously as it approached, its head low and its back hunched over. He could see its features clearly: the bulging muscles on its legs and haunches, its horrible face that was like an emaciated panther, with enormous yellow teeth and hollow black eyes. Yet as it sniffed and nibbled at the food, it seemed almost timid, cowardly. It seemed to tremble and make soft, high-pitched noises that sounded almost like whimpering.

Aires focused and aimed his bow at the creature’s head. The reflection of a nearby light gleamed in the arrowhead and shimmered like flame. Yet even as Aires told his fingers to let go, he couldn’t. His hands were paralyzed.

I can’t do it, he thought as he watched the creature nibble at the food, shivering and whining all the while. But why couldn’t he? He had a perfect line of sight, the creature hadn’t spotted him, and he had an arrow ready to fly. It was now or never: do or die.

He held his breath, closed his eyes, and let go. The bow gave off a sharp twang, jerked in his hands, then went loose. Aires heard a sharp whipping sound followed quickly by a soft thud, and then a horrible screaming the likes of which he’d never heard before. It sounded like a chorus of men and women all wailing at the same time, with a deep undertone that shook the very foundations of the building and rattled dust from the walls and ceiling. Aires opened his eyes to see the creature running and limping away, the arrow sticking out of its front leg, screaming as it did.

Aires fell back into his chair and let go of the bow, letting it clatter noisily onto the floor.

“Well?” Asked Cole.

Aires thought for a moment. “I hit its leg.”

“You had a perfect shot.”

Aires shook his head. “I couldn’t do it. It just looked so…pathetic.”

“Boy, this thing done chased you across the desert once already. And ye say it killed a man. That sound pathetic to ye?”

Aires shook his head. “No, but…I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right.” He took off the quiver.

Cole sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Well now ye got two options.”

Chase ⚓

The following morning, Aires went out to empty the troughs of food and water. On the ground where the creature had stood was a pool of dried blood, with smaller droplets leading away down the street. He tracked it down to a decrepit building abutting the mesa that looked like an old mine. Though the entrance was partly covered by fallen rocks and wood beams, a large hole had been cleared and there were tracks in the sand that indicated a large animal going back and forth. The rocks and beams were too big for him to move, but perhaps he could find another way to block the hole and trap the creature inside.

He shared his findings with Cole, who didn’t seem either pleased or displeased. He only regarded Aires with a sort of distant curiosity, as though he were more interested in seeing what Aires was going to do. Aires couldn’t help but feel frustrated by it.

“I s’pose ye’ll be wantin’ protection,” said the wolf. “Here.” He slid a large knife across the table. Aires hoped he wouldn’t need it, but nonetheless it felt good to have it strapped around his waist.

“Thanks Cole,” Aires said, struggling to hide the fear in his voice. Cole regarded him with bright yellow eyes.

“Lemme give ye a li’l advice. Creatures like this don’t listen to logic and reason like you city folk. Out here, ye gotta be smart, fast, and fearless. Listen to yer head, but trust yer gut more than anythin’. You hear me?”

Aires nodded, then made the trek back to the mine entrance. The first thing he did was check the tracks in the dirt. He wasn’t a tracker by any means, but he could see fresh claw marks that seemed to be heading into the tunnels. This was perfect - the creature was in the mines! If he could block the entrance, he’d be done!

With a sense of renewed energy, he looked around the entrance. It wasn’t a huge opening - maybe 15 feet by 15 feet. It was bordered by massive rotting beams of wood. One of the top beams had rotted through and fallen diagonally onto the ground, splitting the entryway in half. This is probably what caused the rockfall as well, and while Aires could clear some of the debris, many of the rocks were too big for him to even budge. He looked at the hole in amazement - the creature must’ve dug it out itself, which simultaneously impressed and terrified him. At least if the creature decided to come out, he was in the perfect place to see and hear it before it emerged.

He tried many different things including piling sand in front of the hole, blocking it with furniture from nearby buildings, and even pulling at the wood beams to try and cause a second rockfall. But none of these worked as well as he’d hoped, and he felt that in any case the creature could just dig out another entrance. Feeling defeated, he decided to return to the inn to do some more brainstorming. Only then did he hear the faint panting, the scratching of claws against sand, and the deep billowing breath of the creature as it stood nearby. He peeked desperately into the mines, wondering how close the creature was, but the entryway was empty for as far as he could see. It was only when he turned around that he realized the creature was behind him, snarling through frothy lips and bloodstained fangs, eager for flesh and fur.

Aires looked around. With how far back the entrance was from the road, the only way for him to get to any of the nearby buildings was to pass right by the creature. He had only one choice: go into the mines. Remembering Cole’s advice, he followed his gut, ducked through the hole, and quickly wedged a chair in the gap. The creature rushed after him and sank its fangs into the chair, tearing off part of the back as it did. Aires wedged in whatever other furniture he could find to hold it off for as long as possible, then ran into the darkness.

He cursed himself for not bringing a light, but then remembered he had his smartphone. He powered it on and noticed with dismay that his battery had just a few minutes left, even less with the flash on. But it was his only chance.

He rushed into the depths of the earth through the long, low-ceilinged tunnels. Abandoned carts, tools, and old rail lines littered the ground beneath him. Where possible, he turned over a cart behind him to slow the creature’s pursuit. He could smell the creature’s stench permeating the stale air around him, and it seemed to get stronger the deeper he went. This must’ve been its lair.

The tunnel that he was following suddenly opened up into a big chamber with nearly a half dozen different tunnels all leading in different directions. He could no longer be sure which way led back to the surface, and which ones led further in. In the distance, the creature let off a loud echoing scream that seemed to come from every direction at once. Aires spun around until he finally forced himself to choose a path.

The tunnel was a short, winding passage that slowly inclined down into the earth. No other branches led off of it. After a point, the tunnel leveled out and led into what appeared to be a small closed-off cavern. Aires shone his light around to see a room around 30 feet wide and 30 feet tall, with smooth stone walls and a domed ceiling supported by a few large wooden posts. However, it was when he brought his light closer to the ground that his heart truly started racing.

First, he noticed the claw marks on the wooden posts. Then, it was the pools of dried blood and cleanly picked bones laying atop them. But something strange had caught his eyes too. Close to the wall were tin paint cans that looked like they’d been smashed or clawed open, with dried paint seeping from the top. All along the nearby walls were colorful, deliberate shapes drawn in a variety of colors, like cave art drawn by prehistoric man. The lines were drawn in quick, sharp, scratchy strokes, as if created by a sharp pointed stick rather than a brush or hand. Many of the shapes resembled various kinds of animals, but two of them stood out to him: a gray wolf, and a lion, both standing on their hind legs. He traced his fingers over the shapes, and was surprised to find that the paint was still wet and spongy. These drawings had been done very recently.

At that point, he suddenly remembered where he was. But by then, it was too late. He could hear growling and claws scraping further up the tunnel. There was only one way out, and now the passage was blocked. There was nowhere else to go.

He turned to face the creature and saw that it was now standing just a few feet before him, a hunched lumbering mass of black fur and muscle. A rabid snarl curled across its lips and its black eyes shone otherworldly in the light of his phone. With each breath, its entire body shook and foam surged from its mouth. Aires slowly reached for his knife, but realized that it was no use. Even if he could get a strike in, the creature would completely overpower him. He might as well just accept what was happening. So instead of unsheathing his knife, he lifted the sheath from his belt and let it clatter to the floor.

The noise made the monster stand up on its hind legs and growl ferociously, and Aires fell to the ground. But as he did, he noticed that the monster’s claws were unusually colored. One was yellow, another orange, and another gray. Glancing at his own fingers, he saw the same colors from where he’d touched the wet paint. He realized then that the wall paintings hadn’t been drawn with a stick. They’d been drawn with a claw.

Aires looked back at the creature, who was now inching towards him. Without thinking, he raised his paint-covered fingers up to the creature’s face. It paused and seemed to look at his hand, and its nose twitched as if it were in deep thought. But after a few seconds, it growled and barked at him.

“These are your paintings, aren’t they?” Aires asked calmly.

He of course didn’t expect a response. And yet, his words seem to pacify it a little. It didn’t seem to be growling as loudly, and its back was slightly less hunched. Aires looked around. “This is your home, isn’t it?”

The creature’s eyes didn’t waver, but its snarling seemed to subside just a little. Only then did Aires notice a strange flickering near its leg, and he realized with a heavy heart that it was the arrow he had struck it with the day before. He looked back into the creature’s eyes, and for the first time he could see the pained expression it bore, from the tightness in the corners of its eyes to the way it held all of its body weight on its other legs.

Aires sighed. “I’m sorry.”

The creature let out a growl, baring its teeth only inches from his face.

“I want to make it right,” Aires said. “I want to help you.” He raised his hand again, and the creature roared and shook its head, spraying hot saliva across his face.

“Please, let me help you.” He very slowly reached his hand out, but the creature roared and snapped at it. “It’s okay,” Aires said, his voice wavering. “It’s okay.” He reached out again and the creature let him get a little closer, but just as his fingertips brushed the arrow’s fletchlings the creature roared and snapped again. “I understand,” said Aires, “but please, let me help you.” He tried a third time, but the creature had moved back. He now had to move towards it.

Shifting onto his hands and knees, he slowly crawled towards the creature. Towards that terrifying face, the hot pungent breath, that huge quivering mass. The creature tracked him with its eyes, growling softly as he approached, its teeth nearly touching his ear. It could’ve killed him right then if it wanted to, but instead it just observed. When he got to its leg, it lowered itself to the ground. Aires wrapped his fingers around the arrow’s shaft, and put another on the monster’s leg. “This will hurt,” he said. He steeled himself, and pulled the arrowhead loose.

A great cacophony of noise shook the earth itself, rattling stone loose and making his ears ring. He was sure the tunnel would collapse in on itself, but to his amazement it held strong. Blood gushed from the wound, so he tossed the arrow aside, ripped off part of his shirt to make a bandage, and tied it around the creature’s tree-like leg. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to stem the bleeding.

The creature’s snarling had died down into a weak whimper. Its head was on the floor, and it was looking up at Aires like a puppy would its mother. Aires slowly and gently started rubbing its side with his paw. “I’m sorry,” he said. Just then, his phone finally died, and he was left in the darkness with the great beast, which was now just a gentle giant resting in its den. And so he stayed there for many hours, checking and dressing the wound as best as he could, all the while listening to and admiring the beast in its terrifying majesty. At one point, exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep laying against the creature’s body, resting in its warmth and cradled by the slow rise and fall of its stomach.

Departure ⚓

Aires awoke some time later to find the creature still sleeping. He checked the wound one more time, then quietly snuck out of the cavern, using his paws and the wall to feel his way out. Surprisingly, the journey out was much shorter than he expected, and he was greeted by the bright afternoon sun. He stumbled into the inn to see Cole in his usual spot, and as soon as the old wolf lay eyes on him he rushed to his side.

“Good God almighty, what happened to ye?” Asked Cole, his nose curling as he got close.

Aires chuckled and brushed him aside. “You wouldn’t believe me. Took care of the creature though.”

Cole’s eyes widened. “Didja now?”

“Yessir. Seems there was more to him than I thought.”

Cole thought for a moment. “I don’t right know what yer gettin’ at, but I’ll take yer word.” He returned to his seat and his pipe. “I s’pose you’ll be leavin’ soon, then.”

Aires looked out the window down the dusty road. “Yeah. Definitely gonna wash first, though.”

That night, Aires and Cole stood on the front porch of the inn, watching the sun creep towards the horizon. The great shadow of the mesa already covered the town, though it would be a few hours still before the sun had fully set. During the afternoon, Aires had told Cole the full story of his misadventure in the mines. The old wolf seemed pleased.

Standing out on the porch, Aires took a deep breath. “I wanted to thank you, Cole. For everything.”

“Oh, no need t’ thank me.” The old wolf said. “You did all the work. I just helped ye see it through.”

“You know, you can always come with me if you want.”

Cole shook his head. “Nah. Young feller like you don’t need no ol’ fart like me slowin’ ye down. And like I said, ain’t no place for me out in the world. My home’s right here.”

Aires nodded and smiled. “I understand. Take care of yourself.”

Cole returned the smile. “Don’t you worry about me, young’n. Ye just follow yer gut like I told ye.” The old wolf then walked up to him and put an arm on his shoulder. “An’ always remember the lesson ye learned here.” He then reached out a grizzled paw and pointed into the distance. Aires turned around to see the creature slowly walking away from the town, towards the open desert. It stopped, sniffed the air, then turned to look directly at them. It saw Cole first, then its eyes fell on Aires, and in that moment Aires felt a sense of connection and awareness that he’d never felt before. It lasted only a moment before the creature turned its attention back to walking, and disappeared behind a building.

“Well, you weren’t kiddin’,” Cole smirked.

Aires smiled. “Yeah. Though something tells me this isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing him.”

Cole took a deep breath. “S’pose you’re right. But now ye know what to do, when you do.” He smiled at Aires. “Well, go on now, ‘fore it gets too dark.’”

Aires nodded, then departed down the empty dirt road towards the south. Cole watched as he shrank, and then his elongated shadow shrank, and he finally vanished on the horizon. And just as he did, a distant forlorn sound rang through the old wolf’s ears. A sound like a train horn.

“Oh lordy,” Cole groaned as he shuffled back inside. “Another one already?” He put on his hat, lit his pipe, then headed towards the old station to greet the next visitor.