Rest of the year had gone past quickly. It was time for the traditional celebration of New Years Eve. A traveling carnival had arrived to the village bringing joy and touch of forbidden magic to people’s lives. They had pitched their tents and stages just outside of the village. People were milling around, getting their fortunes read, watching in awe when fire-eaters and acrobats performed their tricks.
Marie had debated briefly whether she should go and try to have fun or stay at home. Curiosity had won, and she was wandering amidst the crowd, slightly worried and restless, but enjoying the sights. She had even managed to find a fellow candle maker and traded few tricks of the trade with the man before vicar of the village had intervened and warned the man about what happened to those poor souls who dared to meddle with the likes of her. Man had thrown apologizing glance towards Marie, waited until the vicar left and then he had given her a recipe for rose-scented candles, shooing her off from his tent.
Sun had already set, and full moon was looming above the sky, but the area was brightly lit. If people felt any fear at being outside at this hour of night, they didn’t show it.
She was walking past row of tents, simply labeled as “The freak show”. She didn’t feel compelled to pay the required amount of copper for a glimpse of what laid waiting behind the closed door flaps. She had carried the taint of freak nearly her whole remembered lifetime. But something caught her attention. She could hear sharp clatter of heavy chains from the last tent on the row. Low, animalistic growls echoing from the inside.
“Would the little lady like to see the beast?” Man guarding the tents asked when she stopped in front of that tent.
“The beast?” She asked, already digging a copper coin from her purse.
“Caught it couple of weeks ago. Real wild creature. Took five men to capture it. But little lady need no worry, it is chained tightly. And it’s in a cage. It won’t get its filthy paws on you. Go on, have a peak,” man urged when she laid the copper to his outstretched palm and walked slowly towards the tent.
Scent of filth and grime wafted to her nose first. Disgusting mixture of unwashed body, feces and blood. Rotting meat. Tent was nearly pitch black, and for a moment she stood completely still, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She could hear surprised snort and growl. Bang and clatter when metal impacted against metal. Slowly she began to discern outlines of the cage in front of her. There was a dark, hunched figure behind thick, rusted bars. She took a tentative step closer. Figure moved, sudden blur of naked skin, heavy chains, fangs and yellow, gleaming eyes. It rammed head first against the bars that shook, but held, before slumping to the floor of the cage.
“Logan?”
Head rose and yellow eyes of the beast fixed to hers. Pitiful whine started from somewhere deep inside of him, growing to almost deafening roar. Flap of cloth slid off from the roof of the tent, letting in silvery light of the moon. Sickening sound of muscles shifting and bones breaking made her gasp. Logan was twitching and rolling on the floor, his skin peeling, falling off in sheets, revealing glossy black fur underneath. Soon Marie was face to face with the wolf-man, gargantuan beast who stood on two legs, good two feet taller than the man she remembered and bared her two rows of glistening, sharp fangs, trying to push through iron bars of the cage to reach her. Bars held, and chains kept him from reaching with his gnarled, clawed front paws. Wolf raised its head and howled out its frustration.
She stumbled out of the tent just in time to see the man tending the freak show to close the flap on the roof of it, cutting off moonlight that had pulled forth the wolf. Pained howl echoed from the inside of the tent.
“That was… It was…” She couldn’t find the right words to describe her horror and disgust.
“Told you it would be worth of your copper…” Man that was tending the tent smirked, mistaking her reaction to admiration and appreciation.
She fled from the carnival, getting as far as to the edge of the forest before nausea forced her to stop. She tried to fight back bile that had risen to the back of her throat, but it was a loosing battle. She had to lean over a fallen tree to avoid soiling her dress. Everything she had eaten that day came back up.
As she sat on the side of the path, trying to calm her racing heart, she made a decision. She would get Logan out from that tent. She would get him out and guide him back to the way of man, no matter what it would take. She had done it once already, and she wasn’t going to let those people to undo it.
She would have to wait until morning before she made her move. She wouldn’t be able to handle the wolf. Sun would drive it in to hiding, leaving Logan in control.
He lie on the floor, on top of shredded skin and shed fur, trying to reign the wolf, push it back in to the recess of his mind. It was fighting for tooth and nail for every inch, but without the moon it was weaker. Weaker than him. Then suddenly moon was back, showering him with its cold silvery light, feeding the wolf. He could only scream when it reared its head and tore through the barriers he had erected in to his mind, before tearing through his skin and bone, gaining back control over his body.
Wolf-man seemed to be quite popular attraction. At the end of the evening he wasn’t even sure which one hated staring, curious and disgusted onlookers more, the wolf, or he himself as a man. He didn’t have any control or knowledge over wolf’s actions, but there was a murky moment during the transformation during which he could clearly see and feel its feral thoughts. From those thoughts he had found out that he had something in common with the beast. They both hated the man who was in charge of the freak show.
He was already too tired to fight when last customer of the evening entered the tent. Having the wolf in forefront of his mind granted him heightened senses, and something in the customer’s scent told him that he knew her. When she stepped closer to the cage and whispered his name he renewed his efforts to tame the wolf, but again the moon returned with vengeance, releasing the wolf from its leash, and he could only cry out his anger and rage when the wolf tried to attack her. Rogue. Wolf knew her, and it wanted nothing more than to see her dead. She was the person responsible of the utter humiliation of taming the wolf earlier.
She spent long and sleepless night, preparing the cure and making everything ready. From the looks of it Logan was already half mad from hunger, and she knew this time a simple stew made out of vegetables wouldn’t be enough. She had beheaded three chickens and cleaned them up, and now they were simmering slowly under a pile of glowing coals in the fireplace with several bunches of different herbs. She knew wolf probably would have preferred them raw, maybe alive, but cooked meal would strengthen the man that was fighting against the animal. She had used generous amount of garlic, rubbed it to every possible surface in the cabin. Scent of it should make things difficult for the wolf. Silver cross she had gotten from Logan she had kept hidden, but now she had taken it and it hung on her chest.
Sun was rising, and she was walking towards the village, trying to think up a plan how to get Logan out from the chains and the cage. She would need some kind of key to open the locks. She knew she wouldn’t get the real key. That item would be well guarded. People running the freak show weren’t stupid.
Place was a mess. People scurrying around, running and shouting. Carnival was packing up. Weren’t they supposed to stay yet another day? She caught up with the candle maker. Man remembered her from the previous evening.
“Well, if it isn’t the little witch from the woods… For what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you again?” Man asked, bowing his head and smiling.
“I came to see if I could find some herbs…”
“You’re late, I’m sorry, my dear lady. As you can see, we’re leaving,” man said, lifting several baskets to the cart. Horse attached in front of the cart whinnied a bit.
“I was under the impression that you were going to stay at least to the nightfall?” Man looked at her, something akin to worry flickering over his features. Then he reached for a basket, rummaging through it. He handed her a small pouch.
“Go home, little lady. Lock your doors tonight. George got careless with the animals he’s keeping…” Man said, closing her fingers around the pouch and nodded towards another man Marie had seen last night. The man that was taking care of the freak show.
She walked to the village with numb legs and sat in front of the church, fingers still clutching the pouch. There was something small and pebbled inside. She opened the pouch, and small brown pills rolled out. She could smell the scent of garlic and wolfs bane. Logan had gotten out on his own. What was he doing now? Had he hurt somebody? Where had he gone? What was he going to do?
She shrugged out of her stupor when she saw the vicar walking towards her.
“Please, leave. We do not wish you to stay here. Not now,” man said.
“Has something happened?” Marie asked. Vicar grimaced.
“Just go away. We have enough worries already as it is,” vicar hissed with a poisonous tone and shooed her off.
She decided to return to her cabin. As unfriendly as the people were now, she knew later they would seek her out. She would have to make new batch of wolfs bane and garlic scented candles.
It was quite stupid, really, and there were times she felt like a complete fraud for taking their money and giving the false hope. Because scent alone wouldn’t keep the wolf-man from entering their homes if it decided to grab a bite out of something else than a cow. Those moments had lately become few and far apart, mostly because people’s attitude towards her.
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