Free Vampire Books: Vampire Bite – Chapter 6

I do as Alfie says; what have I to lose right now?  I follow him out to a motorbike; he has a spare helmet which he puts on my head, and then tells me to get on behind him.  I climb on and wrap my arms around his waist, scared I will fall off as soon as he pulls away.

“I’ve never been on a motorbike before,” I admit.

“Don’t worry, just hold on tight,” he says, and even though I cannot see his face I can tell he is smiling.  His tone does not increase my confidence, and I wonder what kind of night I have let myself in for.

Alfie opens up the throttle and we’re off up the hill towards the main road.  My heart is in my throat, and I clutch onto him as tightly as I can.  I close my eyes as we join the traffic and he winds his way about, and I hold my breath as he goes onto the other side of the road to overtake something.  I feel him chuckle.

Soon we are out of the city and Alfie turns off onto country lanes; I relax against his back and start to enjoy the ride, my emotions lifting a tad.  He turns off-road into a field where there is an open gate, and drives to its far reaches – it’s very bumpy, and I again clutch onto Alfie’s clothes.  We come to a stop next to another gate. 

“From here we walk,” he explains.

I follow him over the gate and around the edge of the field where the grass is shorter.  Up ahead I spot a tent.

“That’s our destination,” Alfie says.

When we get there I can see how much thought he has put into this – the tent, a campfire, all already prepared.  I suddenly worry about what he’s planning – what he’s expecting.  I’m in the middle of nowhere here; I can’t just go home if I’m in trouble.

He spots the concern on my face.

“Don’t worry,” he says.  “You are quite safe.  The tent is for you, not us.  Have a look.”

It is a little dark-blue dome tent.  I get down on my hands and knees and unzip the front.  Inside there’s one thick sleeping bag on a camp bed, a big pile of blankets, a six-pack of beer and a bag filled with snacks.  Looks like I’m really going to be camping in November.  Great.

I hear movement outside, and turn around.  Alfie is lighting the camp fire.  It’s about five metres from the tent, and near it there’s a large log to sit on.  I go over and sit on it, watching Alfie as he pushes a lit match against some kindling.  It’s quite a cosy spot he’s chosen, in a slight hollow near a hedge.  The tree line is about twenty metres away.  It would be perfect if it was summer and Trish and Mark were here.  If Trish wasn’t … dead.

“There’s a pile of wood just there,” Alfie says, pointing.  “Put more on when it starts to die down.”

The fire suddenly blazes with light, and then starts smoking, and then the smaller twigs catch.  I watch as the flames lick at the larger logs, and then I look up at the darkening sky.  At least it’s not raining, although it’s good the sky is overcast, otherwise it would be icy. 

Alfie comes and sits right next to me on the log, his arm touching mine.

“Not long now, ’bout half an hour to go.  You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He hands me one and sits down, opening his own.  It’s a can this time so I manage to open it without the aid of his teeth.

“Are you ready?” he says.  He talks quickly, excited I guess.

I look at him, really look at him, again.  His eyes are all sparkly and he’s smiling at me, but not in a joking way; he really seems to believe this is going to happen.

“If you … err … change … what will happen?”

“When,” he says, emphasising the word strongly, “I change, you will be jaw-droppingly amazed.  I’m not going to explain what it will look like, soon you will see.  You will probably be scared, but I promise you don’t need to be.  Not of me, or of anything else.  When I’ve changed my smell sense is enhanced and I can smell vampires – not that they leave the city anyway.  You will see me run around, and I will run into the woods to hunt, but I will always stay close enough that I would smell if there was any threat to you.”

“And you won’t be a threat?”

“No way!  I’m fully in control as a wolf, have been changing for years.  I would never hurt you.  I can come right up to you and all will be fine.”

“How long will you be a wolf for?” I say, hardly believing I’m in this situation, having this conversation.  Life has certainly taken a strange turn.

“Most of the night.  Should change back just before five a.m.”

He chugs back the rest of his drink and stands up, a near silhouette now as darkness is quickly descending, and then starts taking off his clothes.  I watch him, shocked.

“What, you expect me to let my clothes rip as I change?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.  Still don’t think I believe you,” I say.

He laughs.  “It will happen in a minute.  You’ll believe me soon and then your whole world will change,” he says, his eyes dancing.

He whips off his t-shirt while I’m still looking into his eyes – exposing his bare chest.  I don’t have a chance to look away, and I know my eyes visibly widen as I take him in.  I was right about him being muscly – his body looks rock solid and he even has a six pack.  He is lightly tanned and his chest hair-free.

I glance away, then back at his face, and he’s smiling at me in a, ‘I saw you looking,’ kind of way.

I grin and shrug, “Hey, if you don’t want me to look don’t strip in front of me!”

He kicks off his boots and then unbuttons his jeans, and this time I do have time to avert my gaze, but I can’t for long.

“You’re going to have to look at me again you know; you won’t be able not to look when I start to change,” he says.

I look back at him and fortunately he has kept his boxers on.  If he really changes into a wolf I suppose they’ll rip off him, but I guess losing a pair of boxers is worth it to maintain his modesty.

He jigs up and down, looking off to the horizon.

“I feel so psyched right before I change.”

I laugh at him; his mood is infectious, but say, “I can’t believe I’m in this situation…”

He laughs loudly.  “I wonder what you’ll be saying in the morning.”

He goes still and closes his eyes, then suddenly his back arches forwards, he bends his legs and his arms are supporting his weight on the floor, his muscles flexed.  He tilts his head in my direction, opens his eyes and winks, then his eyes flash amber, then go back to normal again, then flash with warmth, then … things start to happen.  Fur starts growing, at the same time as his form starts to change …

He’s changing…

Really…

Actually changing…

I don’t know where to look, it’s like ripples of movement are passing from his head, down his arms, towards his hands, and down his legs, towards his feet, and with each ripple his body flexes and changes, and grows.  It’s mesmerising, my heart is hammering; I can’t believe what I’m seeing … his face is the weirdest thing, covered in brown fur, his eyes closed again, the lower region of his face growing, extending, ears sprouting from the top of his head.  There’s a ripping noise as his boxers come apart at the seams – I was expecting it, but I was not expecting it.  I look back to his hands and they are now paws.  I glance to his feet: more paws.

He sits back on his behind and he is no longer Alfie.  Or he is.  But Alfie the wolf.  He’s a werewolf.  Oh my God.  He just turned into a wolf.

What the hell?!!!

What is going on in my life?

He’s not just a wolf – but an enormous wolf.  It’s awe-inspiring.  He tilts his head back and howls.  The sound echoes around the valley and through my heart.  He gets up and shakes his whole body, all his lush, soft-looking, brown fur – the same colour as his hair – rustles with the movement.  Then he goes still and opens his eyes, and they are a steady glowing amber.  He looks right at me, his mouth open, a big red tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.  He squeezes both of his eyes shut, and then opens them again.

“Hi,” I say, in a whispered voice.

He lifts his right paw a little in response, and then takes a step towards me.  My heart leaps, and I try to get back, but realise I’m sitting down as I nearly fall off the log.  He stops and doesn’t come any closer.  Instead he winks one of his glowing eyes, and then shoots off towards the treeline.  I watch him go and disappear into the darkness of the woodland.

I’m sitting on the log alone, the fire crackling and giving off warmth – I can feel it through my clothes.  The wind is rustling through the tree tops.  Birds are chirping.

Alfie just turned into a wolf.

He was right.

He is a werewolf.

Werewolves do exist.

Oh my God.

I realise my heart is racing, my hands sweaty.  I’ve been clutching my drink in my hands so tightly the can is dented.  I put it down on the floor and try to stand up, but my legs are shaking so much I sit back down.  I take a deep breath.

There’s a howl from the forest.

I shiver, looking around.  It’s the time of evening when shadows are haunting, and it is creepy enough without howling from the forest.  But it’s Alfie.  Alfie who saved my life.  And he turned into a werewolf right in front of me.  He didn’t hurt me.

I take another deep breath.

And another.

I see movement and it’s the wolf coming back. 

It’s Alfie, I tell myself.  He won’t hurt me. 

Alfie the wolf slows as he approaches, and this time I make myself not flinch as he gets closer.  I hold out my hand, and he walks towards me, on four legs, his coat gleaming in the fire light.  My gaze is locked on his amber eyes.  My breathing is fast, and my hand shaking, but I keep holding it out and he comes right up to me.

He is so big that his eyes are level with mine.  He is panting from running in the woods and I can feel his warm breath.  His nose, cold and wet, brushes against my finger-tips, and then hesitantly I stroke the fur on the top of his nose.  He stays very still – I’m guessing he’s trying not to scare me.  I move my hand over the top of his head, between his large pointy ears.  His fur is very thick.  I reach out with my other hand and stroke the fur around his neck.

Then he licks my cheek.

“Ewww!!” I say, taking my hands away, and he winks at me again, his eyes laughing, then he trots away back towards the trees, as I wipe my face on my sleeve.

I manage to get to my feet, keeping my eyes on the way he went, and then go to the tent to get out a blanket.  I wrap it around myself, making myself feel not only warmer, but more secure.  It’s really dark now, and I can’t see beyond the area of the camp that’s lit by the fire.  I look to the sky, it is dark but I can still just about make out the horizon where sky meets trees. 

I go back and sit by the fire, pick up my drink and absentmindedly sip at it.

Alfie turned into a wolf.

Alfie turned into a wolf!

It keeps repeating over and over in my head.

I feel exhilarated.  It’s unbelievable.  This world exists, the world from movies and books.  It’s not all fictional.  It’s actually based on the truth.  Werewolves exist.  Which means … which means … Alfie was telling the truth.  The guy that bit me … he really was a vampire.  Trish … she was killed by a vampire.  There are vampires in Exeter.  There are werewolves…  Not just one.  Many.  Many vampires.  Many werewolves.

The world is not what I thought it was.