Prelude to the Beast

Chapter 3

Who Needs Friends


“Beth do you know what time it is?” I said while picking out a few dog food pellets from my hair. Angus had all but forgotten me and went back to cleaning up the floor. I felt so loved.

“I know I’m sorry.” Beth’s voice was soft and meek, almost too quiet to hear over the phone.

“Would you believe me if I told you I heard that once already tonight?” I was only joking but I had a feeling Beth thought I was serious.

“Huh?”

“It was just a joke.” I added in quickly. Wouldn’t want to add her to my already growing ‘pissed off at Alicia’ list. David had been added countless times.

“Oh, well I really am sorry. It’s just that I need to talk to you.” I seemed to be popular tonight.

I sighed and made my way over to the fridge before nonchalantly saying, “Let me guess, your boyfriend broke up with you again.” There were a few beats of silence and for that short moment I knew I was right. Beth was always having man trouble. But her small, almost childlike voice spoke up and proved me wrong.

“No.”

It was short and sweet, and the fact that she didn’t care to further explain the situation raised my suspicions that whatever the problem was it was serious. But I of course didn’t want to sound like her mother. Don’t get me wrong, I am a really good friend but getting myself involved in other peoples problems tends to get me in problems too. So I was going to play it cool.

I made sure my voice was as neutral as ever. “So…you ok?” Since I just got back from the gym I was going to play it healthy so I skipped the six pack and went straight for the plastic milk jug. Empty…It was half full when I left. I shook it. Not even a drop. I was so involved in my missing milk dilemma that I didn’t realize Beth was speaking. By the time I started listening she was saying. “…so I just don’t know what to do, I mean the pack is everything to me…but I…” Ah ha, so I knew that the problem had something to do with the pack. Great, but that didn’t tell me much.

The good ol’ Baltimore wolves n’ friends. Heh, good ol’ my ass. I don’t discriminate against any lycanthropes but that doesn’t mean I agree with their habits either. I hear so many stories and read so many articles about lycanthropes ravaging and killing people that I know some of them are just simple tall tales but that doesn’t mean their all made up. Behind all great lies is a hint of truth…no matter what the case.

It would be insensitive of me to ask her to repeat what I hadn’t been listening to so I just asked her if she wanted to come over tomorrow and talk about it, but I couldn’t assure her that I’d be able to help, only listen. She said she all right but needed to talk about it tonight. Why the hell couldn’t people wait these days? Rolling my eyes I said, “All right, you can meet me at…” I had to pause to think of the closest café or restaurant that would be open late. “Birds of Prey, at around three thirty.” I felt like groaning out loud. It was going to be a long night.

Her voice seemed to be sounding a bit perkier but still soft. “Three? You must already have something planned. A hot date?”

“Very funny Beth.” She and everyone else that was aquatinted with me knew that I didn’t date.

“You know, you should let me introduce you to some men of the pack-“ I stopped her before she could go any further.

“Naw, I’m just fine being a hermit.” I wanted to say “I’d rather be a hermit than turn furry once a month” but decided against it.

We hung up and I was left standing amidst the dog food pebbles in my kitchen, with an empty milk jug in my left hand. I could have sworn that there was milk in the fridge when I left. But I had to be mistaken. I mean what thief would leave my television and stereo but drink the milk.

“I’m hallucinating, Angus.” His ears perked up but he was still eating what had been scattered on the floor. “I think we need to take a vacation soon.” I chunked the empty jug into trashcan and went to take a shower.

My bathroom is hooked onto my room so there’s no real door too it. Another flaw of my homestead. So the only thing I can do is lock my bedroom door in case someone manages to get past the dead bolt and chain, and the two hundred pounds of dog.

The sweaty clothes had to be peeled away from my skin. I had worked out harder than I should have. I was already feeling a bit sluggish. I was hoping the shower would wake me up.

After showering I made my way out the closet, wrapped in a towel. Yeah, probably picking out the clothes before I took the shower might have been easier, but it was a force of habit.

I needed to look presentable yet not overly done. I yanked out a few shirts from out of my closet. One was a business jacket, complete with pin stripes, that I wore once or twice and two others were T-shirts, one just a solid blue, the other was purple and had the words GREEN DAY spelled out across the chest in bold lettering. I wanted to look normal, not the “Hey I’m in my mid twenties but I still want to pretend to be a teen because I don’t know what to do with my life” look, and I also didn’t want to look overly done. I was going for the plain blue shirt.

The Levi’s I pulled from my drawer were my favorites not to tight yet not too baggy. Now it was time to trade my sports bra in for something a lot more comfortable. Opening my sock drawer my heart skipped a beat. Lying amidst my heap of mostly panties and bras was my old, brown shoulder holster. Now I knew I was seeing things. I closed my eyes and then slowly opened them again. It was still there. I frowned then yanked out the first bra and panties I could see then slammed the draw shut. I didn’t remember putting it in there. My stomach turned. Was I really going crazy? I decided to think about that after I homehome. Or should I change that to, ‘if I ever got home’.

After getting dressed I slipped into a pare of white generic sneakers that I kept for rainy nights such as these (can’t ruin a good pear of sneaks now can I?) and went out to the living room. After seeing my shoulder holster in my underwear drawer I was getting this strange feeling that something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the fact that I was going out on a job at 12:30 at night, something I rarely did. Or maybe it was the fact that I was going to be meeting with someone who’s name I didn’t even know. Forgot to ask David. And since I was feeling too proud to call him back it was just going to be something I had to deal with.

Angus was curled in front of the door like a giant brown beanbag. He didn’t seem to have these strange feelings. Go figure. I pulled my purse out of my gym bag and took my bomber jacket off the coat rack next to the door. One of the sleeves had a dark brown patch at the elbow. It had seen better days but I wore it anyway. Now I was ready. Or so I thought. The 357. Magnum sat all by its lonesome on the coffee table. Perhaps I’d feel better if I took it with me. Who knew what types of muggers were going to be around the part of town I was headed. I picked it up. The metal was cool in my hand. The only times I carried it were usually to the car and back, but tonight I was going to makeexceexception and carry it with me. Thank god for my massive sized purse.