Ambrose the Lich (rough draft)

There are so many legends and myths to go along with a full moon, you would almost believe it was something truly magic. And while I do love a moonlight night, a run through a valley so ethereal it could make you cry; it’s not what holds the power most of the time. It’s when the moon is new that you have to watch out for truly otherworldly things. When the world is blanketed in no light, swallowed up by darkness, that is when the world really comes alive.

As a child I dreaded the new moon, I hated the darkness. It was always a time I was least myself as it was harder to hold the transformation at bay. When you think ‘werewolf’ you instantly go to the full moon. Well, actually, the full moon isn’t the problem. The new moon is what causes involuntary shifting in most weres. I’m not sure exactly why, but I've heard a few stories in my life explaining it. Myths say werewolves were a blight, caused by the great evil of a father and son. Perhaps that’s why the new moon has the greatest hold.

The less moonlight, the more comfortable the hidden things of the world felt as well. So, combining the need to shift along with everything crawling around out there, it made for a stressful evening. I always get a bit antsy when the day comes around. Even as I’ve gotten older and gained a bit of control over my shifting, the new moon is always hard.

“It gets so dark so early now. I absolutely hate driving around at night.” The woman whose coffee I’m making is blathering on. I’m not sure if she’s on her phone or talking to me. I think she must have one of those bluetooth headphone things.

“It’s creepy around here. Once I can get out of here I’ll head home.” Now I know she’s talking to someone else, because she said that very pointedly at me.

I suppose she thinks it’s creepy around here because it’s close to Halloween, so the area is decorated and the library has set up a huge display outside. I don’t know sometimes, people take offense so easily these days.

“Iced caramel macchiato,” I called out once the order was done.

The lady took her drink, but didn’t walk away from the counter. I couldn’t close down until she left, and already the library was turning off the lights. I squirmed on the inside, hoping my manager would come back from the office. I started cleaning while the woman stood there on her phone.

I noticed patches of fur on the back of my hand as I wiped down the equipment. I tugged down my sleeve, willing the woman to get out. I felt a twitch with my teeth, so I turned back and put on my brightest smile.

“Ma’am, are you staying? We’re closing down, but if you need to wait for someone I don’t mind letting you wait in here since it’s so dark out.” It's not hard to be chipper, generally I am, but I am also anxious to get out of here.

The woman holds up a finger to me and I have to bite my cheek to keep myself in check for that split second. I had the itch to run, to shift and lose myself in the forest. If she didn’t leave soon, she’d probably see something that would really scare her.

My manager, Marie, came from the back with a sour look on her face. She saw me cleaning then turned to the woman standing in the middle of the cafe on her phone with her iced macchiato thathad ten pumps of vanilla syrup, actual heavy whipping cream I had to whip myself, cold cream, extra whip, extra drizzle, and no ice.

Marie gave me a look, scoffing as she stepped out. “Excuse me, we’re closed. We have to clean up and we can’t-” She stopped when the woman gave her that ‘wait a second’ finger as well. That wasn’t a smart move. I just continued to clean up, doing my job so Marie didn’t turn around and snap my neck.

“No, no,” Marie laughed. “You can talk outside as easily as in here.” She approached the woman, coming up behind her. “I’m the manager, so you have no one to complain to if you don’t like it.”

The woman turned, but the look on her face said it all as she ran out the door. Marie turned, shutting her mouth so the wide corners that cut back to her ears sealed back, and her sharp teeth sank back into their hidden pockets.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I sighed.

“I’m the manager, Blair. I have the power!” Marie held out her hands and gestured up. She then glanced down and her dark red eyes scanned over my hand. “I’ll finish here. You go on.”

“You sure?” I said, full of hope.

“I don’t want dog hair all over my nice cafe.” She smirked at me and winked. “Take the Barlow Path I told you about. You won’t run across much there.”

I sighed with relief, taking off my apron and hanging it on the wall. “Thank you, Marie. I am getting twitchy.”

Marie shooed me with her hand. “A vampire knows how to treat her werewolves. Now get.”

I went out the door, locking my things into my car then putting my key lanyard around my neck. I strolled around the cafe towards the back of the library, heading towards the scenic walks the town had set up a few years ago. Some were for casually strolling, one for an exercise path, but the Barlow Path was a hike, as well as a history tour. During this time of year the Barlow Path was used for the haunted tours and hayrides. Along that path was a set of houses built and abandoned by the Barlow family. It was said the Barlows were accused of witchcraft and communing with demonic powers and rather than face persecution left their homes in the middle of the night.

I stepped onto the path, beginning the process of unbuttoning my blouse. My body tingled all over, stretching, moving around under my skin. The wolf was moving within me, waking to see the darkness all around them, their most favorite time of all.

I fell to all fours, and my leggings were beginning to grow tight and awkward. I ran forward, heading into the hidden sanctuary of the trees. The path was decorated with skeletons and ghosts, tombstones, and twinkling LED lights.

My stomach ached, I hadn’t eaten dinner and I was noticing it. Having a full stomach made the transition from bubbly blonde girl to bubbly blonde wolf a bit more bearable. I also wouldn’t feel the need to hunt and feed as much if I had something, anything on my stomach.

“I think the library said they were keeping apples at the main Barlow House,” I chuffed. My stomach gurgled and roared, demanding I fill it with something. I really wasn’t in the mood for a deer or rabbit, so I made my way towards the houses.

The houses were abandoned, two of them were in horrible condition, but the main house, while unkempt, was still usable to an extent. It had once been used as a museum but closed down suddenly and unexpectedly.

I saw the boxes of apples sitting on the porch and made a rush to them. Why they put them here, I’m not sure, but at least it’s something for me to fill my stomach with rather than deal with coughing up fur tomorrow.

I started eating apples, chomping down one after the other. I then hear a voice and every fiber of me goes still, even the wolf stops her twitching and listens. I turned this way and that, apple juice running down my fuzzy chin. I listen intently, but hear nothing aside from the rustling beyond the trees. I go back for another apple, but a rogue staple has other plans for me.

“Ow!” I wrenched back my hand, inspecting the long scrape down my arm. “Really?” I started to lick it when I heard that voice again. There was breathing in my ear and then the front door opened.

“No,” I said slowly. “No, no.” I took a cautious step back but then I heard voices and I could smell beer in the air. Coming down the path from the opposite direction I could hear rowdy voices, laughter, and the scent of drunk breath flooded my nose.

“C’mon!” I bemoaned my fate. I was doomed to either be seen by some drunk teenagers or I would have to go inside the creepy Barlow house. Neither sounded good. But a haunted house sounded less worrisome than drunk teens.

I went through the open door, an apple still in hand, and looked around the foyer. The scent of the place was not what I had expected. I half expected the scent that came from old books, a hint of mildew, dust, and dried skin. Instead, there was a faint hint of licorice and linseed oil. It reminded me a bit of art class in school.

Hanging on the wall across from the door was the painting of Ambrose Barlow, the youngest son of the Barlow family, and the architect of this house. He was tall and handsome, with a mop of uncontrollable dark hair. His eyes peered out, looking nowhere and everywhere at once. Rumor had it the painting couldn’t be removed or else it would be hanging in the library museum. Something kept it tethered supernaturally to the wall.

The sound of a droplet of water falling reached my ears, and I realized it came from me. On the ground were a few spatters of my blood.

“Oh shit.” I huffed. “Trespassing and bleeding?” I went to lick my arm again when the door closed behind me.

“Okay! No!” I yelped in surprise.

A soft laugh rippled through the house and even the wolf inside had to whimper. I looked this way and that.

“If this is a prank, good for you,” I muttered as loud as I could. “Now, let's get this over with.”

Lanterns on the wall flickered on, holding inside bright purple flames. The painting of Ambrose Barlow shifted and the frame bulged and bursted into purple fire.

I shook my head back and forth. “Nope.”

Ambrose’s eyes flickered, blinking to life as his mouth began to open. I was frozen stiff, a werewolf too afraid to move from where she was standing. You might find it funny, but I was far from amused at that moment. The house breathed and shuddered, stretching the wood and ripping some of the wallpaper. The painting continued to bulge and stretch and Abrose himself came from within the painting.

Without a second thought I chucked the apple in my hand at Ambrose, shockling connecting. He cussed loudly, falling down from the painting and toppling on the ground in a heap.

The moving and breathing of the house came to an end. The lanterns dimmed and the flames turned a usual fire color. The painting returned to normal with Ambrose poised like normal. But the body still laid at the foot of the frame, smashed apple scattered about.

“Quite an arm you’ve got there.” A voice said from the pile of body. It shifted, rising and squishing together. Bones popped and creaked as a man rose from the floor, standing in front of the Ambrose painting in the exacting same pose.

I reached behind me trying to jiggle the doorknob while keeping my eyes on them. His face was skeletal, dead but not dead, fait hues of purple flickered from their eyes and the inside of their mouth, where there was no cheek, just an open pocket.

“Now, now, don’t be afraid. We’re from the same cloth, are we not? Specters, shadows, those things that try to hide in-”

I continued to try and open the door. “I just wanted to escape teenagers. I’m sorry if I barged in on something.”

The strange Skeletor man sighed and the purple glow around him faded. “You’re the one who shed blood within my house.”

“What does that mean?” I turned around to face him, taking in his ghostly visage. “Do I have to clean it up?”

His eyes raised and fell upon me, taking me in the same way I took him in, only a touch creepier. “Certainly not. You’ve merely woken me up.”

“Oh-” I wasn’t sure what that meant or how to respond to it.

“I would like to meet who has saved me from that wretched sleep. All these years waiting. Who would have thought it would be a werewolf.” He smirked as he approached me, moving close and then opening the door with a wave of his hand. “I am Lord Ambrose Barlow. What is your name?” He tried to take my hand but I stepped away.

“Uhh-” I looked outside and back at him. “It’s Blair.”

He saw the cut on my arm as I held it against my chest and he glowed again. “Blair, sounds like the name of a witch.”

“My godmother actually,” I stepped back again, leaving the front door. “I have to get home. Sorry!” I sprinted, running on all fours and crashing through the woods. I ran past the drunk teens and bolted home. I would worry about my car later and pick it up in the morning.

The next day at work I was still bothered and bewildered by what I had seen last night. I was cleaning the glass to the door that was between the cafe and library. I saw someone walk between bookshelves, it was a library so I didn’t think anything of it. I then saw a trail of books following behind them, which raised my eyebrows. I stopped cleaning the glass, seeing a strange purple glow had enveloped the books.

“Blair, we’ve got a rush coming,” one of my coworkers called.

“Be right there.” I watched the books until they vanished and went back behind the counter. I started helping make orders as a line formed behind the counter. I poured coffee into a cup and it turned bright purple before me. I gasped as it bubbled over, splashing down my arm and along the counter, turning thick and gloppy like slime. I quickly picked it up and tossed it into the trash, pouring the rest of that coffee down the sink.

“Blair, what are you doing? We’ve got a line!”

“Grounds,” I lied as quickly as I could. I looked into the eyes of my bewildered coworkers and put on a smile. “It’s fine, the other pot is going and most of the orders right now are using the cold brew.”

“Let's hope it stays that way.”

I quickly got back to what I was doing, pouring cold cream, dishing out syrups, when I noticed the logo painted on the back wall had a new face, a Skeletor looking creep with purple eyes.

“No,” I whispered and looked away. I looked back at the logo, which had gone back to normal. “You’re freaked out. It’s okay.”

“Just a peppermint tea, please.” The voice sounded familiar so I looked up to see who it was. The strange man from last night was standing there and no one seemed to notice a Skeletor man glowing bright purple was standing amongst them. He looked at me and smiled.

“Oh, it’s you,” he tried to sound surprised, but I knew he wasn’t.

“Hi,” I replied as cheerily as I could. “What…what are you doing here?”

He paid for his order, then walked down the line to stand closer to where I was working. “You ran away from me last night.”

“Oooh,” two of my younger coworkers murmured behind me.

I gave them a look then turned back to Ambrose. “Not where I work! You’re embarrassing me!”

His brows raised slightly, and the wispy purple flame that made his hair shifted to a darker color. “Do you know who I am? Even what I am?”

“I need this job,” you said quickly. “And that matters more to me right now than figuring out who some ghosty-goo who scared the hell out of me last night is!” I tried to speak quietly so as not to bother the rest of the customers or alarm my coworkers.

He continued to stare with those weird unblinking eyes of his.

I finished off his peppermint tea and set it on the counter. “Please leave me alone.”

He sighed and took his drink. As he did, a coin fell from his fingertips and clattered surprisingly loudly against the counter top.

“For you,” he said. He swept away, leaving with no one even taking a second glance to him. I turned to one of my coworkers, grabbing them gently.

“Did you see that guy?” I asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“So? What did he look like to you?”

She seemed stumped by that question, holding her mouth open and then closing it. “I uh…that’s weird. I can’t remember.”

I looked back to the counter where the coin was sitting, shimmering strangely in the light. As I picked it up I noticed it was embossed with a strange symbol, but written finely around the edge was some lettering I could just barely make out. “The Barlows will Live by Blood, Die by Blood, and From Blood be Risen.”

“Yikes,” I hissed through clenched teeth, I pocketed the coin. Obviously it wasn’t a good thing to have, but Ambrose wasn’t going to leave me alone regardless, so it was best I kept it.

As I was leaving work that evening, I was heading to my car, feeling the wolf inside me wrestle around anxiously. On the breeze I smelled something faint, like paint and licorice. I turned, spotting glowing purple along one of the paths behind the library.

“He’s never going to leave me alone.” My guts churned, but I figured it was best to do this like a band-aid.

I trugged away from my car, heading towards the glowing lights which, unsurprisingly, led me onto the Barlow path.

I once again stood before the Barlow house. Only now it looked brand new, untouched by time and unravaged by the elements. The front door opened and from inside I heard voices, the sound of a party. Ambrose stepped out onto the porch.

“Did you bring your token for entry?”

I just frowned at him.

“Come now Blair.” He offered his hand to me. “Come inside.”

I shook my head. “Usually, I love a good chance to meet people. But you’re something undead or resurrected or demonic, so I’m not exactly trusting you.” I took the token out of my pocket and tossed it back to him. “If you want to talk to me, you’ll do it my way.”

Ambrose scowled, looking from the coin to me. “Are you serious?”

I wanted to cross my arms against my chest, but I kept them down to show I was serious. “Of course. A girl has to protect herself.”

The sounds of the party waned from inside, the lights in the windows dimmed as well. Ambrose walked down the steps to me, the coin still held in his hand. “What is your way?”

“Definitely not alone in the creepy woods or in the very haunted house.” I waved out my hand towards the house, which Ambrose clicked his tongue at.

“Not haunted, per se,” he muttered.

I shook my head. “In either case, no matter how big a werewolf I am on the outside, I’m still a frightened young woman on the inside who has heard enough true crime shit to know better.”

Ambrose let out a long sigh. “You still haven’t answered my question in full. Tell me your way, Ms. Blair.”

“Somewhere public. You can obviously hide how you look from people, so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Ambrose made a face. “In public?”

I couldn’t help but agree with him. “I know people are crazy, trust me, I work in a coffee shop. But if you want to get to know me, it has to be somewhere like a restaurant or something.”

Ambrose flipped the coin between his fingers over and over again. With a wave of his hand it turned to purple fire and then smoke. “Courtship hasn’t changed much I see.”

Courtship? The word struck me but I didn’t have a moment to react to it.

“Fine then. Where would you like to go?” He asked.

I put on a smile. “I have the early shift tomorrow, so I’ll get off around lunch so we can meet up at the butcher shop.”

Ambrose’s face crinkled. “The butcher shop?”

I bounced on my tip toes. “It has a really good deli and bakery thing in there.”

He eyed me, giving a look then nodding. “Okay. Fine, if that’s what you wish.”

“I really like their sandwiches,” I giggled.

“I said fine!” Ambrose appeared a bit flustered. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” He stepped back up onto the porch, turning once to look back at me. There was a look upon his face, one that made my heart do a little skip. Even for a Skeletor man, he wasn’t half bad, I suppose. Once he turned and walked back inside, I went back down the path to get back to the library.

As I got to my car I reached into my pocket for my keys. I found the old coin there as well. I just chuckled and placed it in my bag.

I was a bit excited the next day, even during the early shift I noticed a bit of pep to my step as I worked. Despite the strange and terrifying way I came across Ambrose, I was curious about him just as much as he was with me. Don’t know why he was so fascinated, I just bled in his house a little, but I guess that was all part of the charm.

Once work was done I got changed in the back. I gave my appearance a quick once over then left, driving further downtown to where the butcher shop was. As I parked out front, I saw Ambrose’s reflection in the big glass window. He moved towards the door as I got out of my car, opening the front door as I walked towards it.

I stepped inside and saw him waiting at a small table. The door closed gently behind me as I waved to him.

He stood, pulling out my chair for me as I came close. “Long time no see!” I said.

He looked perplexed by my words, but nodded. “I suppose.” Once my chair was tucked in he took his seat again. He folded his long hands together on the tabletop, and I could see a few beautiful rings decorating the strangely proportioned fingers.

“So, no one can see you like I see you?” I whispered. I was a bit giddy because it felt like a secret, and I loved secrets!

Ambrose tilted his head to the side. “Yes and no. They see me but they do not at the same time.”

My eyes widened. “So, you don’t look like anything to them?”

Ambrose got a bit of a smile upon his lips. “They don’t realize what I look like. They will either forget me or concoct some sort of appearance within their imagination.”

I nodded, somewhat understanding, but really I wasn’t getting all of it. “Am I seeing you then? Or did my childhood watching He-Man affect me more than I want to admit?”

Ambrose’s brow pinched. “Whose He-Man?”

“Oh! Gosh, where do I start-” I stopped as the waiter came to our table side, so my train of thought was cut off.

“I don’t want to know about whoever this fellow is you’re talking about,” Ambrose murmured as the waiter walked away.

I looked up over my menu with a surprise gaze.

“I am here because I want to know you,” Ambrose’s voice went dark and intense. It made the hairs on the back of my neck raise and a slight tingle appear below.

“Oh. Right.” I set down my menu, I already knew what I wanted. “Well, what do you want to know about me? Not many people are too curious about people who bleed in their house.” I thought I made a joke, but thinking on it, I guess everyone would be curious about that.

“You brought life back to me. I made a bet with my sister ages ago, and I finally won.” Ambrose said with a triumphant glint.

“What sort of bet?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ambrose brushed it off. “What matters is that you are the one who revived me. And in a sense, saved my life.”

I gasped softly and leaned back into my chair, stiffening my back. “That makes more sense then.” I thought for a moment, pressing my lips together. “Is it a good or bad thing? Because you look like a villain, but I don’t want to base things off appearances. Too judgy-”

Ambrose reached across the table. “I want to return the favor to you Blair. I want to show you how much I appreciate your gift.”

I chuckled nervously, his hands felt cool and soft against my own skin. His touch was surprisingly nice. “Oh, no, I don’t do nice things for rewards!” I laughed.

The room grew dim, the people around us began to fade away into nothing. Glowing purple flames lit around us, and dare I say, it was almost romantic.

“With my powers I can give you anything you desire. I can show you the depths of pleasure you’ve never touched before.” His hands squeezed around mine. “I would do anything to show you how much joy is alive within me!”

I looked around, trying to spot the restaurant scene around us. I could still smell the customers, the meat, but everything was just hidden. “Oh, I don’t need much.” I looked back at Ambrose. “And I would have to get to know you better for the pleasure part.”

The world snapped back and Ambrose sighed, letting go of my hands, which I slightly regretted. “You’re serious?”

I shrugged. “As long as I haven’t unleashed some horrible monster on the world, I’m okay with just getting to know you.” I thought for a second. “I need money but I would feel bad asking for it.”

“I can give it.”

My mouth screwed up into a purse then I laughed. “Maybe later, I’d still feel bad asking for money from a stranger.”

A smile crossed Ambrose’s face again. “I’d always heard tales werewolves were feral, greedy creatures. I never expected one to be quite so…puppy like.”

I nodded. “I get that. Not all werewolves are the spooky scary kind. A lot of them are pretty good people.”

Ambrose placed a hand back upon the table, moving it out towards me. “You’ve not released a monster, by the way. You have my word. I am merely a menace.”

It was a relief to hear, and I slowly moved my hand out, placing it in Ambrose’s. “I don’t mind a menace.” I said and his long fingers clasped around my hand. “You’ll make things fun, I’m sure.”

To my surprise, I had a good time with Ambrose. After a few more dates, I kissed him just outside the Barlow house. It was cold and his lips felt strange, but I had been wanting to do it for a while now it didn’t matter. He couldn’t place his taste, it wasn’t bad, just something unfamiliar to me.

The week of Halloween was always busy. And the Barlow path, along with the house, were more popular than ever. Even during the evening when I could walk them alone, more people were taking strolls just to capture that Halloween feeling.

I peered from Ambrose’s window one evening, watching people walk up and down the path. They would stop and point to the house, unaware a specter and werewolf were watching them.

“You’re stuck here for the night it seems,” Ambrose said to me. “Not to worry. I’ll fix a bed for you.”

I stepped away from the window. “You don’t mind?”

“It’s you, so I am quite excited.” Ambrose kissed me, smoothing his fingers through my fur. I had shifted to show Ambrose once, and he said he adored my werewolf visage just as much as my human one. I felt comfortable to share it with him, and it felt good to let the wolf out once in a while.

“Do you sleep?” I asked.

Ambrose chuckled. “Not what you would consider rest. I can close my eyes and mimic it, but really, I have gone past the point of needing it.” He took my hand, leading me into a room with a large bed. There were clothes hanging in a wardrobe, and candles lit with purple flames all around the room.

I sat down upon the edge of the bed, stretching my legs out a bit in a pose. “You mentioned something about depths of pleasure before,” I giggled. “Does that still stand?”

Ambrose’s brow raised as he looked at me. “My darling Blair. For you, I shall always rise to the occasion.”

I laughed giddly, holding my arms open as Ambrose came to me. He kissed me, gently at first. I then felt his teeth, so I gave him mine. I felt his tongue, the purple flames. His hands caressed down my body and then I was upon my back. Those long, strange fingers of his did not feel so odd upon me. Below they worked magic, in a way I cannot describe other than orgasmic. He tickled and aroused me, using those long digits to reach places inside me that made me cry out and howl.

“They’ll hear you outside love,” he whispered to me. “But tis the season, I suppose.”

I whimpered, still trembling from his touch alone. I looked up at Ambrose, seeing his wild hair caught in his face, his long form stretched out over top of me. I reached up, smoothing his hair away from his face. I kissed him, pulling him down to me. In to me. I lost my breath as he filled me.

“It’s been some hundred years since I’ve done this,” he whispered. “But I promise my stamina is stronger than it ever was.” He pulsed inside me. “I must admit, I am equal parts excited and nervous.” He ran his hands down my body. “I’ve never made love to a werewolf before. Let alone one so beautiful.”

I smiled for him, eyes fluttering as he drove himself into me. His touch made me sensitive, I may not last long. But I wanted him so badly. I would howl all night, frightening people on Barlow Path. Rumors would grow about Barlow House anew. Now, they spoke of the Barlow Monster or Barlow Werewolf. When I hear the stories, I just smile.