Werewolf Boyfriend: Dante 2 (rough draft)

That night in the woods had caused a lot of fear inside you. You and your brother had always joked around about what you would do in the event you became embroiled in a horror movie plot. You both bragged about being brave, about not running upstairs, or going into the woods alone. That night, you had broken the cardinal horror movie rule and gone off alone. Not just any alone though! You had gone off alone in the woods, what should have been an instant death.

When you ran away from the werewolf, it should have given chase, but it didn’t. The fear that it existed somewhere out there, possibly even watching you, was like waiting for the ball to drop on April Fools Day. Someone was going to get you, somewhere, somehow, someway, you just didn’t know. You could never tell anyone about it, because what if that started off the horror movie? What if telling the secret caused the werewolf to go apeshit and kill everyone? Well, good job, you told the actual werewolf himself. Now, maybe, you’d be the only dead one.

As Dante looked down at you, his resting serial killer face looks even worse. You don’t know what to do, you feel sick and panicked all at the same time. Should you run? Should you yell for help? All these swarming, crawly things collided in your brain, so you broke down crying.

“Aw, geez-” Dante flinches. He whips around, already noticing people are looking your way. “Don’t cry! Come on, don’t-”

You’re blubbering, unable to make any sounds other than snotty sobs and whimpers. You can’t even move because it’s taking al your strength to stand and sob.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Dante insists. “I just wanted to talk about it!”

It’s hard to stop once the works get going. Trying to talk only seems to make it worse. You’re trembling, and gratefully, Dante doesn’t make any attempts to touch or calm you down. He just stands there waiting.

“You scared me back then, I thought for sure I was going to have to run again.” He huffs. “I’m not going to do shit, I swear.”

You cough as you try to talk, sniveling pitifully. “Uh buh. You. Guh.”

“Calm down,” he sighs. “Deep breaths.”

You shake as you take that first deep breath, a few more and you’re able to stop sobbing. You’re still crying though.

“Here.” He takes a bandana from his back pocket and hands it to you. “Mop yourself up.”

You shakily take it, wiping your tears and snot away.

“Can you sit?” He motions to one of the picnic tables. Instead, you slide down the pole of the awning and sit down on the ground. Dante squats down so he is level with you. “Look, I’ms ure I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to making a living in this world. Try doing it with absolutely nothing to your name. No birth certificate, no social security card, nothing. I have been working my ass off trying to build a life, trying to survive here. You could be the thing that ruins it.”

“I suh-swear I won’t-won’t-” You hiccup hard, causing your frame to jolt.

Dante scoffs and rolls his eyes. “In three years you haven’t said a thing? You haven’t shown that video to anyone?”

You shake your head. “I huh-haven’t even sw-switched phones because of it.”

His brow furrows lower. “You’re joking?”

“No! This is a five! It sucks!” You wag the phone in his face. “But I was afraid as soon as I said anything to anyone you’d come out and rip my throat open.”

“I wouldn’t rip-” He scoffs and stands back up. “I am not, and would not, hurt you. I didn’t even do anything that night. I finished my job there and went on.”

You continue mopping up your face with his bandana. “I didn’t know that! How could I? I thought you were under every rock, in every shadow.”

Dante’s shoulders slouch. “Do you still believe in the monster under your bed?”

“Sometimes!” You hiccup and it hurts your guts.

A slight smile comes to his face and he looks away, rubbing his chin and jaw until he can face you again. “I had no idea how to react that night. You just came out of the brush and grabbed me. I was petrified myself. I didn’t know what to do! Do I laugh? Do I snap at you?”

You hiccup and grimace. “I thought werewolves were mindless and bloodthirsty?”

“I know we’re fairy tales and scary stories, so I’ll let that slide.” He sits down across from you again. “But this is something I am born with, something that is a part of me. I’m not mindless, I’m not blood thirsty.” He looks sad, almost heart broken. “I just want to live my life. You’re the only person who knows about me. So if anything happens to me, I’ll know it’s because of you.”

“What if an anvil fell on your head, would that be my fault?’

He glowers at you.

You duck your head instantly. “Sorry. Joke.”

“Are you going to say anything to anyone?”

Your eyes hurt and you’re still hiccuping. “I haven’t so far! Why would I start now? Nothings going to change except I have a fucking name for the monster in my closet.”

“I’m not a monster in-” He shakes his head. “I’m not a monster at all. Not for you, not for anyone. I just want to live my life, and if that gets impeded, I’m going to find you.”

You hiccup and burp at the same time, making the strangest sound humanly possible.

Dante breaks a smile again and shakes his head. “I’m not trying to be frightening. I swear. I promise I won’t scare you again, as long as you keep my secret.”

“It’s hard to believe that,” you murmur. “Especially when I have been terrified of you for three years. I used to love camping, but now, I haven’t set foot behind even a tree since then. I’m sorry, I won’t tell anyone, I just don’t know how I can trust what I’m afraid of.”

Dante looks down, flicking at gravel. “I don’t know how to make you unafraid of me.”

Despite the sun rising further into the sky, it is growing darker with thick clouds. Dante frowns and rises back up, offering his hand to you. “It’s going to rain soon. You should get back to your cabin.”

You take hold of his hand, noting the bruises on his knuckles from when he hit Philip. Even though you had the dirt on him, he still protected you from a creep. He even met you here rather than somewhere private.

“I can give you my number,” you offer. “Then you can like, send me threatening texts or whatever werewolves do.”

“Are you suggesting werewolves can’t text?”

You hiccup. “No. Just-” You unlock your phone and make so he can create a new contact. “I’ll message you, you can message me. You can ask me once a month if I’ve blabbed. If I have, you can come-” You hiccup.

Dante enters his contact, as he hands your phone back he grabs you hand and barks in your face. You nearly piss yourself and you slap him.

He cups his hand around his face. “I was trying to stop your hiccups!” He quickly defends. A smile blooms on his face though. “Not bad though.”

You take a breath and clutch your red palm to your chest. “Remember that next time,” you warn. When you don’t hiccup you’re relieved.

“See? You slapped me. Maybe knowing you did that will help the boogieman seem less frightening.” He then points to the phone. “Send a text.”

You do, and when you hear his phone chime a knot forms in your belly.

“Enjoy the rest of your stay.” Dante nods his head to you before turning to walk away.

“Wait a second,” you reach out to him but recoil your hand. “If you’re out there, then what the hell else is there?” You gulp. “Like, are vampires and witches real too?”

Dante taps a finger to his lips. “Shh. Secret.”

The hair on the back of your neck bristles and you quickly escape as rain begins to patter on the ground. You receive some scrutiny when you get back, since you left promising ice cream. You go back to your room, shutting the door and flopping into bed. You stare at the ceiling, listening as the rain comes to a downpour outside.

Your phone chimes with a reply from Dante.

“If you never planned on showing the video to anyone, why keep it and the phone?”

It feels strange, different than texting a guy you like, different than texting someone you don’t like. “So I knew it was real.”

“You saw it though, in person.”

You sit up and roll your eyes. “Yeah. But over time I would have convinced myself I was crazy. I would have begun to believe I was seeing things or it had been a dream. It was easier to keep the video than to delete it and forget.”

“Is this something you do often? Do you take pictures of everything?”

“I do.”

“Your instagram feed must be aggravating.”

“Oh, it’s obnoxious.” You set your phone down, thinking that may be the end of the conversation, but your phone chirps again.

“How are you by the way? After what happened before. Is that guy still bothering you?”

It was a strange mixed bag of emotions then. You felt weird, elated, but weird. You pick up your phone, looking over the question for a long while before you responded. “It could have been worse, which is what I keep thinking about.”

“You managed to get out into public, which was good. You thought smart in the moment.”

You sit back against the headboard as you reply to him. “It was satisfying to see him on the ground. Not to mention that Arnie ripped into him when he found out. I figured he’d stand up for his buddy.”

“He’s still there though, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s been too chicken to show himself much.”

“Shows who he really is.”

“Nah, his tiny dick did that for him.”

“I don’t need to know that.”

You listen to the rain for a moment, hearing beyond it the sounds of Miri and Arnie’s bed squeaking. You frown and return to talking to Dante. “Thanks again for sucker punching him.”

“Anytime. I love hitting assholes.”

A smile perks the corners of your mouth. “You do that often?”

“I try not to.”

Later that evening, when the rain has stopped, you take a walk outside. It’s cool out, and you watch as kids jump in puddles. When you come to the end of the street, the paved road turns into a dirt path that’s blocked from travel. The dirt road winds up through the woods, somewhere you haven’t been in a long time. You stand there are the gate, shaking your nerves off and taking deep breaths. You hop over the rail and take your first steps into the woods.

The ground is wet and a little slippery from the rain. You stop just before the cabins disappear behind you. You can still hear the kids playing, but ahead of you, there is nothing but trees and moss. You wring your hands together, counting down the seconds before you turn and head back. It was a big step for you, but it would still take time until you felt comfortable there.

As the week goes on, you see Dante in passing a few times. You wave to him, he waves back. As your time at the cabin comes to an end though, your text conversations with Dante have been steadily growing. You message each other often at night, sometimes for hours, sometimes just a few words.

Packing the car on your final day, Dante approaches to inspect the cabin for billing. You walk with him through the place while everyone finishes putting luggage away.

“Guess this is it,” you say.

Dante glances away from the clipboard. “Suppose so.”

“Do you work here all year?”

“Just the summer. The place closes mid-autumn.” He scrapes a few checkmarks across the paper then moves to another room.

“You got any winter prospects?”

Dante turns on the light of the bathroom then turns it off. “The owner of this place has winter cabins further north. I go there and make sure people don’t die on the ski slopes.”

“Sounds miserable,” you chuckle.

“I like the cold.” He gives you a smile as he lowers the clipboard. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I work at a local theatre. I do set design and production. I suppose I’ll be working on either Sweeny Todd of Little Shop of Horrors next.”

“Let me know which,” he says. “I’d like to see Shop of Horrors.”

You follow him outside to the back porch where he double checks the firepit. When he sees it’s been doused with an extra bucket of sand, he makes a note on the clipboard.

“So is this where you threaten me again?”

He stares at you. “Why would I threaten you?”

You wrap your arms around your back. “Because of the werewolf thing,” you murmur under your breath.

He tilts his head to the side. “Do I need to threaten you?”

Shaking your head you scrunch up your shoulders around your neck.

“Then I won’t. I have your number.”

You bob your head. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Okay, this place seems fine. I’ll get everything set up with billing and finish off the payment.” He says matter of factly. “You and your friends are free to go home.”

There isn’t much ceremony to leaving. You just go, sitting in the front with Miri while Arnie and Philip are in the back. There is a strange new feeling that settles over you. Knowing that the werewolf now has a name, now has a contact in your phone, settles differently than before.

Going back to your apartment with Miri, you unpack while Arnie takes Philip home. You have a feeling Arnie won’t be hanging around with him again, hopefully. Going into your room, you feel at peace. Hugging your own pillows, the weight melts from your shoulders.

A few days go by, and as production at the theatre begins amping up, you’ve become busy with planning and getting funding. After the first few days, you come home exhausted. You eat, bathe, and flop into bed, falling asleep to youtube videos.

One evening, as you drift to sleep, you begin to have a dream. You’re at the edge of the woods, holding a basket in one hand. As the wind whips around you, you clutch the red cloak draped around your shoulders. You step into the woods, following a path. From the corner of your eye you see some approaching you. The creature hunkers low to the ground, moving swiftly closer. As you grow still on the path it rises up before you. The wolf looks at you hungrily, licking its chops.

“May I carry that for you?” The wolf asks.

You lift up the basket.

“No,” the wolf growls. He then scoops you up in his arms, carrying you like a princess. Your hair and cape flow out dramatically, becoming longer than you remember. Romantic music swells in the distance as the wolf comes closer to you. “Now, we feast.”

Your eyes go wide.

He licks his lips again. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

You wake to the screeching of your alarm. You shut it off then lay there, staring at the ceiling. “Okay,” you murmur. “That was weird.” You check your phone, seeing no new messages. You decide to send one yourself.

“It’s Little Shop of Horrors. They thought a killer plant was less traumatic than a man with a knife.” You then set your phone down and listen as the shower turns on.

Your phone chimes with Dante’s response. “I must prefer plants over people. When does the show start.”

You bite your lip as you smile. “We’re still working on that. Once we have our cast, we’ll have a more definite date.”

After that, you and Dante continue to text more. Mostly in the evening still, as both of you are working. As exhausted as you are in the evening, you still make time, sometimes lots of it, to converse with Dante. It helps during the first month of production, which is always stressful. Having to create a budget for the estimated funds is never fun, lots of things are needed, lots of things you can’t afford.

One evening, after a long discussion about puppets, you drift into that dream again. Only this time, you’re naked as you walk into the woods, only the red cape covers you. You come to a clearing where you lay down, stretching out your body as you lay upon your cape. You then begin to moan, arching your back off the ground as your mouth opens wide. You look down, seeing the wolf between your legs, his hot tongue pressed against you. His dark blue eyes flick up to yours.

“Are you hungry?” You moan.

The wolf rises, crawling up your body and pinning your hands above your head. “Ravenous.”

That dramatic wind and swelling music return. “Then take me, leave the rest of the forest alone.”

The wolf grins. “Only if that is what you really want.”

“Yes. I really want it.”

The wolf lowers down upon you, pressing his weight and more upon you. “Wolves are notoriously hungry,” he snarls. “I hope you can keep up.”

You wake even before your alarm. You lay there, feeling warm and tingling between your thighs. You swallow down a lump in your throat. “Well,” you murmur. “That’s new.” You sit up, cupping your hand around your warm face. You had always had dreams about the wolf, he was always there. This was just the first time it became erotic, as well as one of the few times you weren’t terrified. You sit there in contemplation for a long while, deciding it was just that period in your cycle and it meant nothing more. Besides, that wolf could mean anything, it didn’t have to represent just anyone.

A few days later, as you get out of the shower, a text pops up. Dante has been traveling to his winter employment and hasn’t been able to text, so you’re excited to hear from him.

“Getting settled, just letting you know a yeti didn’t eat me.”

“Do yetis exist?”

“What? I don’t know.”

“You would tell me if yetis existed right.”

“That’s personal.”

You grin and quickly change into pajamas while he replies again.

“Just curious, but I have a cabin all to myself this time. It’s pretty big and my boss said I could invite a friend if I wanted. If you’re not busy, maybe after your play is going, you could come visit.”

Your heart pounds.

“I’m busy too, so you wouldn’t have to see me unless you wanted to. You’d have access to everything the regular guests do. So, really, all up to you.”

You bite your lip as you think.

“I’ll even leave you an anvil if you want.”

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I like the moon doggie.”