1 Perfect Day

    It was a perfect June day. The sky was blue and not one cloud to be seen.

It was warm and the breeze was just right. The sun was shining and the birds were singing.

It was all perfect as far as I was concerned.

  I was riding my bike down the road, headed for a nearby National park and my favorite place on earth; a tiny, naturally formed pool with a small waterfall, a little over a mile inside the park. It was no more than 8 feet across (too small for a swimming hole, but wide enough to float on my back) but about twelve feet deep (which was great for doing cannon balls!). It was my own special place, where I could be alone with my thoughts and no one bothered me.

  On beautiful days like this, it was my favorite place in the world!

  I pedaled along, enjoying the summer breeze flowing thru my hair. "Soon..", I thought to myself, "I'll be in my pool, hair floating around me, as the little waterfall tickles my toes".

  I was so caught up in my daydream, I didn't - at first - hear the car behind me.

  I Looked over my shoulder - and saw what could only be described as the classic Creeper Van.

  It was off white, but so covered with dirt and grime that only the upper part showed it's real color. It had no windows on the sides (minus the driver and passenger seats), with a sliding door on the right.

   "Total cliché", I thought to myself.

  The two guys I saw inside the van were also clichés.

The driver was fat and looked to be in his thirties, with curly, greasy brown hair falling around his, pale, doughy face. He had thick, moist looking lips and flat, beady grey eyes.

By comparison, the passenger looked like the poster boy for Meth. He was scarecrow thin, with what looked like nail marks on his acne scarred cheeks. His blond hair was thin, lank and looked like it hadn't been washed in years. His mouth wasn't more than thin lips slashed across his lower face. He had nasty, rotten teeth, which I clearly saw (and imagined I smelled), when he smiled.

  In fact, both Greaseball and Methboy were smiling. At ME.

  I felt a ZING thru my body and my heartbeat speed up as I moved over to the side to let them pass me.

But instead of passing, they came along side me.

  My heartbeat sped up even more as the van paced me.

  Suddenly, the side door slid open and a man I hadn't seen leaned out.

  He was BIG, with a shaved head, thick neck, big, muscled arms, broad chest, tiny waist, and legs like tree trunks. He stared at me with small, beady brown eyes the color of fresh dogshit. Sunlight shined off the oil on his acne covered skin as we locked eyes. He also had a huge, creepy grin plastered across his pimply face.

  We stared at each other for what felt like hours (but couldn't have been more than a few seconds).

Then in a strangely high pitched voice, Zitface (as I thought of him) said, "OOOOO! We never got no redhead before! She'll be Real tasty!"

  Zitface then reached for me, one hand gripping the top of the opening as he tried to grab me.

"Come on, pretty girl!" He said, beady eyes shining with lust, his grin becoming a leer as he swiped at me. "C'mere! You know we gotcha! Just get in here!"

  My heart was beating like an angry hummingbirds. My palms were sweating and tingles ran thru my whole body as I pedaled.

I quickly looked around, checking if there were any other cars or people walking near the road.

But there was no one. I was alone.

  I locked eyes with Zitface, my heart beating almost out of my chest and adrenalin coarsing thru my veins as, smiling, said, "FINE!", then leaped off my bike and launched myself into the van.

   I distantly heard my bike bounce and clatter as I slammed into Zitface. His eyes grew wide as I sank my claws into his neck. The scream he tried to release turned into a wet gurgle as I tore his throat out.

  Greaseball and Methboy - who moments ago were smiling maliciously - now screamed in terror as I turned my attention to them.

The van swerved as I latched onto Greaseball, my long, sharp claws digging deep into his flabby man boobs. He screamed like a girl as I bit down on his head. Blood sprayed the interior and my fur as I ripped Greaseball's scalp off his head like a cheap toupee.

Methboy, meanwhile, was screaming - high and loud - like someone was crushing his nuts.

The smell of hot piss mixed with the blood and meat smell, as he wet himself. He began frantically searching around the floor as the van careened left, then right. 

His frantic search paid off as he came back up: a .44 Magnum in his bony hands.

His high pitched screams never stopped as he pulled the trigger over and over.

The big gun jumped and roared in his hands.

The first shot took out the drivers side window. Second shot went through the roof. The third shot, ironically, went into Greaseball's gut, giving him a new, much larger asshole as the bullet exited his left side. He screamed in renewed agony as his guts were forcefully rearranged.

'Guess there were hollow points in there', I thought to myself.

The next two shots actually hit me in my right side. And though I felt SOME pain, it didn't feel much worse than being hit with a softball during gym class.

I'm sure he would've tried to shoot me again - maybe in the head - when the vans luck finally ran out and slammed into a tree.

The air was shoved out of me as the back of the drivers seat compressed my chest.

I dug my claws deeper into Greaseball's chest to keep from being thrown backwards, and inadvertently ripped his chest open (Oops).

His body twitched as I pulled my claws out. His head slumped forward and bloody drool dribbled onto exposed organs. One last breath escaped his body in a long, rattling sigh, then went still.

Methboy had gone half thru the windshield - his upper body hanging out of the broken windscreen.

panring a little from my exertions, I willed my claws, fangs and fur back back into my body, shook out my arms and looked at myself.

I was a mess. My clothes were torn and bloody and there were holes in my shirt from the bullets.

'Damn', I mumbled, 'I liked this shirt'.

The holes in my body had mostly closed. One bullet had gone straight through, but I could feel the other being pushed out. In less than a minute the bullet came out and fell onto the dirty floor of the van. I picked it up, put it in my pocket, then searched for the other one. I didn't find it, but I did find a fresh hole in the side of the van where I'd been standing.

No problem, the Others would find it.

Zitface lay in a crumpled heap in the very back of the van. Bloody smears marked the interior where his body hit during the ride.

He looked like a broken action figure, arms and legs in unnatural angles.

His broken body was lying amidst a jumble of stuff: ropes, duct tape, a bag of knives and tools, wire, a blow torch, trash bags, road flares, two big metal gas cans, cigarette butts, empry beer cans and what looked like hundreds of pictures scattered everywhere.

The van itself reeked.

The entire thing stank of fear, pain and the blood of many, many children.

   I kneeled and looked at some of the pictures.

They were all young - most younger than me. Pain, confusion and terror etched across their too young faces. They were all races, all types. And all of them...girls.

  I stood back up and looked out the back window and saw my bike not too far down the road.

I was surprised. I thought we'd driven farther, but whatever. As I went to the side door (which was half open), I heard moaning.

  Turned out Methboy was still alive.

  "Guess you should've remembered your seatbelt." I mumbled.

  I pushed the door the rest of the way open with my fprearm, got out, stretched and walked to the front of the van.

We'd hit a huge, old oak tree. The whole front left side was crushed inwards and steam was seeping out of the now cracked radiator.

Methboy hung facedown, ass in the air, his upper body slumped over the vans stubby nose.

His clothes were nearly shredded, his body torn and blood ran in rivulets down the front of the van.

He looked like a mass of dirty clothes, mixed with roadkill.

He still had the gun clutched in his right hand.

The smell of Meth and spray paint rose from his damaged, bloidy body - it smelled like window cleaner had been poured over raw, bloody hamburger.

The smell made my nose burn and my gorge rise.

Angry, helpless gurgles came from him as I approached.

I watched as his body twitched and jerked and (somehow) he managed to jerk his head around enough to to turn it in my direction.

He stared at me though dirty, bloodstained hair. A combination of hate, pain and fear in his eyes. Whether it was fear of death or fear of me I didn't know.

"Whaaattt....ARE....you...? he managed to rasp out.

I looked at him for a moment, thinking, 'Should I answer him? Does he even deserve an answer?'

I decided to mess with him.

"What do you THINK I am?", I countered.

"Nnnnnnnooooooottttt...girl..." He rasped out. "MMMMMM....MONNNNNN....STERRR!"

  I laughed. "REALLY?! You kidnap, torture, **** and kill LITTLE GIRLS, but I'M a MONSTER?!"

I shook my head. "I'm thirteen and I'm a little girl." I cocked my head. "I'm just... more.... is all."

"Trouble is, you only saw a little girl. You saw me only as prey; just like all the other little girls you and your 'friends' took."

I looked him in the eye. "But I'm not prey. Never been prey. You and those two cooling piles of shit are the monsters here, not me!"

  I walked over to him and kneeled. He flinched at my approach, even tried to lift the gun (which he still hadn't let go of. Maybe he couldn't I thought), but his arm wouldn't work.

"Ddddonntt!", he blubbered, eyes wide and terrified. "DDDDONTT ....EEEEEEEET....MEEEE.....!"

I wrinkled my nose ('he thought I was gonna EAT him? He was mistaken. I prefer my meat Free Range, not stuffed full of chemicals. Thank you very much! Besides. People taste NASTY!') 

  "Oh, please." I said, rolling my eyes. "As if I'd eat YOU! With all the drugs and other crap you've put in your body?" I made a disgusted face. "Sorry, I SO don't eat junk food."

  I leaned into him. "To answer your earlier question; My kind have gone by lots of names over the years, but personally I prefer 'Shifter' or 'Lycan', myself."

  I grabbed a handful of his greasy hair and yanked his head up. "I'm the mantis in the orchid." I told him coldly. "The viper lying under the leaves. The wolf in sheep's clothing." (I chuckled, I couldn't help it.) "I'm the thing you never knew was there...until it takes a bite out of you."

I let go of his hair, wiping my hand on my pants as I stood. "Your not the first bunch of pervs we've had to deal with and I doubt you'll be the last."

  I knew what had to be done.

I turned and climbed back into the van. I grabbed the two gas cans, a couple of flairs and (using a rag on the floor) grabbed a big handful of pictures. I leaned out, put one can outside, then tossed the handful of pictures onto the ground, near the rear of the van. I opened the other gas can, and poured gasoline over the inside of the van - making sure to soak both Zitface and Greaseball. When the can was empty, I tossed it onto Zitface's body and jumped out.

I took the other can and poured most of it over Methboy.

  "You thought of yourselves as Predators, didn't you?" I asked as I worked. "Preying on those who couldn't fight back! You thought you were bad asses, but I bet you never went after anyone you thought could fight back. No. You just preyed on the vulnerable and alone." I poured the rest in a line away from the van, then tossed the empty can thru the open door, then closed it. "Now your the one who's vulnerable... and Alone"

"Pllleeeese!!" Methboy begged as he spit gasoline out of his mouth. "Stop! Dddon't do this! DON'T DO THIIISSS!"

I tilted my head. "Did any of the girls say that?" I asked. "Did THEY cry and beg? Call for their mommy's? Their Daddy's? Say the exact same things you just said while you and your friends hurt them?!"

  I lit the flair, making sure he saw it. "Well, I guess I'm going to give you the same answer you gave them."

  I held the burning flare over the line of gas.

   "Bye Bye!" I said, and I dropped it.

The gasoline quickly caught, rushing fast towards the van. And Methboy.

   I lit the second flare and threw it thru the broken window, then went to get my bike.

   "Stupid fucking human pervs!" I grumbled as I got on my now dented and scratched bike. "Made me damage my bike, ruined my favorite shirt and almost ruined my ME time!"

  I heard his pitiful screams as I pedaled past the now van shaped inferno, towards my original destination.

  I knew someone would see the smoke and call 911, but it would take the cops and fire department some time to get here, being so far away from town, but by then any trace evidence I might have left would be ash.

Luckily, it had been a very wet spring, so the surrounding foliage wasn't as dry as it could be and the tree was a bit away from the others. I felt bad about the tree and the fire, but I knew I couldn't take the chance of leaving any traces - and the tree was big and old, so it might even survive.

  It would take me awhile to clean the blood off under the little waterfall and since my clothes were wrecked, I'd have to stash my bike, wait til nightfall, then head home, soggy clothes in my teeth (maybe I should get one of those backpacks they put on Dogs? But no. If I'd did that, my litter-mates would never let me live it down! Oh, well.).

  Mom and dad were going to be pissed about the clothes (they'd just bought them), but Proud that I'd done what was necessary to protect the Clan.

They'd also be impressed that I'd taken down three grown Human men as quickly as I did, without having to chase one or more of them down.

  After all, it was the job of every Clan and Clan member, to deal with those who would hunt the weak and innocent - especially if we come across them in our territory - and deal with them appropriately.

Which I did.

  A big smile stretched across my face, as I realized I'd just removed three (THREE! COUNT EM!) wastes of flesh form this earth!

   I laughed as I peddle, 'So what if my bike got damaged! So what if my clothes were trashed! I'd taken out Three child-raping, murdering bastards - All by myself!'

   'Looks like I was getting my perfect day after all!'