Red Moon: Chapter 3
#8 of Red Moon
Red Moon
Chapter 3
Dimitri laid down the sleeping man after taking off all of his clothes except for his boxers. He had no problem getting to the room, the hotel workers had all seen people come back in the arms of others after a full night of drinking. The only hard part was digging the key card out of Trevor's pocket without dropping him. It took some effort but now he was done here, the man was safe in his bed where he pulled the sheets over him so he wouldn't freeze. The room was heated, but even that wasn't going to stop the room from getting cold.
Dimitri's stomach began to growl, the food from dinner was already digested, its meager energy being used up at a rapid pace. He needed a full meal, something more sustaining that the cooked meats that humans so loved to eat. He needed raw meat.
Stepping out into the hall, Dimitri pocketed one of the two cards that Trevor had in his wallet. He knew that the man was attracted to him so he doubted Trevor would protest at him having a card for a bit. Dimitri admitted to himself that he enjoyed Trevor's company, what he didn't know was just how much he enjoyed the man's company. He would adopt a wait and see approach, if they just became friends then that was fine, if he realized that the feelings went further... he would wait and see.
The snow storm was still going strong when Dimitri left the hotel. White powder licked at his face, melting instantly on contact due to his abnormally high body temperature that was always constant as long as it had energy to burn, energy that needed to be replenished.
Stepping into the alley next to the hotel, Dimitri began to strip. Changing into a wolf would ruin his clothes and he didn't have another stash nearby, beggars and the homeless often came across even the most cleverly hidden stashes of clothes when they were in the city. He put his bundle under the dumpster, the cold would keep the unwanted away from his things for the night. Standing naked in the wind, Dimitri closed his eyes and listened. He may not have been able to use his sense of smell, but he could still hear sounds that were carried in the wind.
Very few were out in the streets, those that, like him, needed the storm to hide their movements from prying eyes. Moscow had a large underground for trafficking everything from drugs and weapons to people who had been kidnapped, to be sold into the sex industry. Many cities were like this all across Europe, Dimitri was just most familiar with Moscow, it was his home after all. He had used Moscow as his point of return for many years. He didn't own a house or anything, he didn't carry the money to do that and a job was just too risky. The streets were just familiar, he knew where everything was in the city and it was that familiarity that let him know precisely where the sounds of mob dealers were.
Crouching onto all fours, Dimitri began the process of changing from a muscled man that could have gone with a good wax to a feral wolf that was the size of one the rare Siberian Tigers. His body jerked violently as everything readjusted and changed to fit the new physiology. His fingers shrunk into his hands that took on the shape of paws while his heel was pushed up to create the iconic digitigrade leg. His mouth extended out, revealing a long series of scars that webbed across his muzzle from where it had been blown off by a mine. A layer of black and silver fur sprouted out of him in patches which then grew until finally there was no longer a man, but a wolf.
Panting, Dimitri took a moment to adjust. The transformation process was always disorientating as the brain was filled with new signals and itself finished changing to accommodate the body. He was at his most vulnerable state now, it was when his regeneration powers were weak since the body wouldn't know how to heal when changing. It was how most of his kind died, either ambushed or stumbled upon my people when changing. He needed to be careful for the next several minutes as the final adjustments took place.
The snow and wind kept the wolf hidden and there was no one in the immediate vicinity, the only person who had a chance of discovering him was the doorman to the hotel and he hadn't moved from his spot in over an hour. His coat was electrically heated and a thick scarf protected his face and gloves for his hands, he would not move from his post.
Swerving his ears around, Dimitri made sure the sounds the mob members were making was still there. It was, blowing across the wind from the west which was where he was going to go.
Silently and like a speeding bullet, Dimitri dashed out of the alley way and into the street. The storm was so bad that the doorman didn't even notice the black shape run off into the night, he was too busy helping an elderly lady out of a taxi, using his body to block the wind.
Running at speeds that no man would dare to drive at while on icy roads, Dimitri followed the sounds that became clearer as he got closer. It was most definitely mob members, even with his bad nose, he could smell the strong pungent smell of drugs on them. Heroin, cheap and easy to make while bringing in massive profits to the distributors. It preyed on the weak willed and made the streets of his beloved Moscow treacherous since those who ran the drug business would gladly kill to protect their empires.
At that moment however, Dimitri didn't care about the drugs and what it was doing to his city. He let the bloodlust fill him, no longer able to resist it now that there was no reason to hold it down. The people he was hunting had made their choice of being out in the cold when they should have stayed home. He needed to eat, it was one of the simplest laws of the wild, the food chain and werewolves were near the top.
Three man walked hunched over, talking about how the bad winter was hurting business. People were moving out of the city, even their customers since they couldn't afford both the drugs and housing. They were heading towards a warehouse where they would pick up the latest batch of heroin and transport it to a safe house where the drugs were sold from. None of them worried about being caught, the mob had nearly every cop that patrolled the area paid off and those that weren't paid off were given fays off on the days of the move. Killing incorruptible cops was the old way, it got the attention of too many wrong people. Simple changing work schedules was easier and proved less costly in the long run.
"Cheknov" The leader of the group of three turned his head to talk to the man on his right in Russian. "You need to get your mother to cook us some of that soup of hers when we get back." He had the long winter overcoat and a beige ushanka that sat proudly on top of his head and over his ears.
"Da." Cheknov nodded and wiped a layer of snow off his black leather jacket. He needed to keep the moisture off of it to prevent the leather from being ruined. "My mother, she will have the soup ready, she always makes soup when it snows like this." He held out a gloved hand and watched as a perfect snowflake landed in the middle of his palm.
"Let's just get this done first." The third man who was in a green hooded fleece jacket with a matching balaclava covering his face shivered. "This cold, it is no unnatural. I just want to get out of it."
"Do you forget?" The leader laughed. "We are in Russia. She is a cruel mother, but fair. It is this kind of weather that makes our people strong." In truth, he wanted to get out of the cold just as much as the other man, but he had a national pride that often got him into trouble which was why he was out in the snow in the first place. A poorly timed remark about what a true Russian was in front of one of his bosses who said he had too much to drink had gotten him carrier duty until the snow cleared.
"Fine, fine." The man waved the comment off and then stuck his hands back under his armpits for warmth. They walked down a flight of steps that led into a small courtyard. On the other side was the building where they would get the heroin and from there they would turn right back and go where they came from. That would be the end of their day, though their day had been ended for them.
"What is that?" Cheknov stopped at the sight of a dark shape. He couldn't make out what it was due to the snow that assaulted his eyes whenever he opened them up.
"I do not know." The leader of the group saw what Cheknov was looking at. There wasn't supposed to be anything there and it didn't look right to just be a person who was walking by. It didn't sit right with him and he pulled a 9mm pistol from an interior pocket of his coat. The others pulled out their weapons as well, a Mac 10 and another 9mm. It was more for show, none of them had ever used a gun on a person before. Most people backed off when the weapons were pulled out and at the moment it was just a precaution until they figured out what the dark figure that was slowly approaching them was.
"Stop right there." The leader yelled out and waved the gun around.
Dimitri head the man, but had no intention of stopping at all. His mouth was salivating, the feral part of his mind was in control. All he could think of was food and they were right there.
"It's a dog." The man in the fleece jacket pointed out as the wolf stepped under the light of a lamp overhead. "A damn mutt."
"A wolf, a big one too." The realization that they were being hunted hadn't settled in. They were in awe at the size of the beast that stood before them until it began to growl and and hunched down, its shoulder blades sticking into the air as Dimitri readied to charge.
"Shoot it." The leader said and raised his gun at the wolf that outweighed him. The words barely got out of his mouth before the ten meters between them was closed and his throat was in the crushing maw of the wolf.
A gurgle of incomprehensible words fluttered from the man's mouth before the jaw closed down like a clamp, nearly decapitating him.
Dimitri tasted and savored the iron taste of blood as he swallowed the red liquid that gave him strength. The others dropped their weapons, and began to run. They didn't want to deal with the wolf that had killed their leader. They didn't sign up to be eaten.
Not wanting witnesses, Dimitri dropped the limp body and ran after the others. They died. Quick and painless, but full of fear as the jaws closed around their necks. One of them managed to scream out in terror in his final moments. It wasn't the kind of scream that was heard in movie theatres, but one that would send ice water through a hardened man's veins. All it did to Dimitri was egg him on.
He feasted on the remains until police arrived on the scene, called by a concerned citizen who was woken up by the scream. By then, he had his fill and would not need to eat for some time. He left the scene, leaving only a trail of blood that was quickly washed away in the snow.
Dimitri began to make his way back to the hotel where he would change back into human and get his clothes on. He contemplated staying the night inside of Trevor's room, but thought against it. It would seem weird to do that, there were other places that he could stay, the cold didn't affect him one bit now that he was full. He could even pick up the clothes and spend the night somewhere in the woods until morning if he had to.
All thoughts ceased as a sudden sense of danger kicked in. His ears caught the sound of a bullet being chambered in a rifle very close by, too close. A gun shot from a suppressed 30-06 sent a bullet spiraling right into Dimitri's shoulder. With a yelp of shock and pain, he tumbled through the white washed streets.
He never thought of being the one who was hunted. As a wolf he had always been at the top of the food chain, no one had ever tried to hunt him. When he took from a farmer's crops and got the farmer to come out with a hunting rifle, he merely had to show himself once in all his majesty to get any man to give up their quarry. Now he struggled to get up with a bullet lodged into his shoulder.
From a distance in a the second story window of an apartment complete overlooking the street where the wolf laid in pain, a man grinned as he looked though the scope, a single silver canine glimmered among his tobacco stained natural teeth. His crosshairs were focused right on the head of the beast that he had waited so patiently for. He did not fire again though. He had plans for the wolf that needed him to get away alive, but wounded. He just watched as the wolf finally got up and scurried off in a panicked limp, another part of a three hundred year plan was coming together.
Dimitri didn't know where the bullet came from and now he was trying to get away from whoever had shot him. Even injured, he ran at a fast pace until he came up to the hotel. He had to change in order to get back into building even though that meant he risked worsening his wound. There was no knowing if the person who had shot him was still coming so he felt that he had no choice.
The change was painful and he had to stop it half way when the pain became too great. His appearance was more like that of an American werewolf on two legs except for his face that he put effort into looking more human. It was not an natural state to be in and took mental effort to hold. His body wanted to revert back into the feral mode, but he focused on staying in that state of limbo between man and wolf.
Quickly, Dimitri pulled on his clothes that hid his form from view and walked into the hotel. The doorman gave him a concerned look, but did nothing other than get the door when he saw the key cards that proved he wasn't just some random person trying to get out of the cold.
He made it to the elevator where he waited through the agonizingly long ride up to the tenth floor where he hobbled to Trevor's room, slowly changing back into a wolf while doing so and his clothes beginning to slip. He ended up having to use half a muzzle to slip the key card in, but when the door opened he limped in, the clothes just sliding off of him and tearing as his body became too large. Slipping under the covers of the second bed in the room, he fell asleep to the noise of Trevor's deep snores.
The next day was a confusing one as Trevor slid the blanket off of the slumbering beast that still had a bullet wound in its shoulder. Unable to even think of how a wolf had gotten into his room, Trevor ran through the first door he saw and slammed it only to find that he had just locked himself in the bathroom. He just prayed that the wolf wasn't hungry.