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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v113) (the December 2012 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Falling (a Down in the Dirt collection book)		get the 230 page Sept. - Dec. 2012 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Initiation of a Wolf

Shaun Horton

    The mirror reflected what a mess he was. One eye black and bruised, swollen to the point it was starting to block his vision. Both of his lips bled slowly through several cracks and he felt one of his front teeth, finding it was loose. He tilted his head to the side a little and nodded to himself, agreeing that his nose was cocked to one side more than usual as well. All he could do was sigh at his reflection though; this wasn’t the first time Landon had been beaten up and mugged on his way home from work. It was probably the same punks who had done it the month previously.
    He limped lightly into the living room, moving to unbutton his shirt and sliding it into the hamper, caked mud and all. Once a month or so this happened, and he was getting used to it. He’d clean himself up some, and stop off at the hospital for a quick check-up before heading to the police station to make his report. It was easier then calling 911 from the phone booth in the street, as it was usually half an hour or so before any officers could show up. He could be cleaned up and walk to the hospital in that much time.
    His left hand throbbed some, which he hadn’t noticed before. He did remember one of the youths stomping on it after he’d gone down, but it was bleeding. It took him a moment to remember; after they’d emptied his wallet and ran off he’d laid there a few minutes, playing dead in case they came back. While he’d laid there tonight though a stray dog had come up and sniffed at him before nipping at his hand. He figured he must have been playing dead a little too well. The animal had actually drawn blood before he’d gotten up and shooed it away.
    He went back to the mirror after dressing in some clean clothes and picked up his comb, running it through his short, black hair, knocking out clods of dirt. The bleeding in his lips had stopped, and he patted down his loose tooth with his tongue. The black eye wasn’t swelling up any more at least, and he’d leave it to the fine folks at the hospital to do something with his nose. He opened the little safe in his room and took out a few bills, anticipating the cost of the bus and the taxi he knew he would end up taking before getting home again.
    He stepped out onto the street, heading down the mediocre lit sidewalk. The hospital was a few blocks away, and conveniently enough there was a bus that had stops at both the hospital and the police station; someone in the city transportation department’s idea of efficiency probably. He walked with a slightly brisk pace, feeling a bit better since he’d cleaned himself up some. As he rounded a corner a garbage can in front of him fell over causing him to jump. As a large dog lifted its head from one of the other trash cans though he took a deep breath, calming himself down. It looked at him a moment, tilting its head to one side in the way dogs do when they’re curious. He held out his hand for the animal to sniff; working with dogs was part of his job and he could tell when they were in moods better not messed with. It padded over lightly, and he noticed how big the dog actually was. He couldn’t quite place the breed though, probably a mix; German shepherd, Rottweiler, and something else due to the patch of white on the top of its head. It sniffed lightly at his hand. It tilted its head and looked up at him, before licking the wounded appendage and returning to rummaging through its claimed garbage. He blinked and smiled some at the gesture and continued on down the block, figuring the nurse at the hospital would clean the wound out sufficiently when he got there.

    The hospital seemed busier then usual and it took them a good twenty minutes to get to him. The cartilage of his nose had been twisted some, which was why it was a little crooked, but a little coaxing put it back in short order. A nasal strip over the bridge of his nose was to keep the passages open to spite the swelling and they wrapped up his bitten hand after applying an anti-septic. He gave them his insurance information and went out to the bus stop.
    His hand itched some under the bandage, but he figured that was probably due to the cleaning and the quick application of the bandage. It wasn’t a bad bite, but it had still been oozing some blood when they’d admitted him and the nurse working on him had decided better safe then sorry, particularly when he told her it was from a dog probably living on the street. He was just assuming that though, given the general part of the city he lived and traveled through.
    The bus pulled up and he climbed in, dropping into a seat not far from the door. The bus was fairly empty, a few other people sat further back; one was even asleep. He stopped to think and realized he wasn’t sure what time it was. He glanced down at his watch and groaned some, just a few more minutes and it would be early rather then late. He didn’t expect he’d get home until probably close to four AM. He shifted in his seat to get a little more comfortable, the police station wasn’t a far distance, but there were several stops in between. The cab ride home from there would take about twenty minutes.
    The bus ride itself took almost forty-five minutes; dropping him off at the front door of the station. Once inside, the attending officer greeted him and took down his basic information before having him take a seat. The police station was also a bustle of activity tonight, and the phones were ringing off the hook; which meant Landon had to wait until an officer was available to take down his full report. The wait was longer then he’d expected and he dozed in his seat. Rather than being home by three am, it was about that time he was woken up in his chair by the first officer to return from his beat. The older man smiled down at him and led him back to a desk. Landon thanked him for taking the time, since the officer was officially off-duty, having stopped in at the station after the shift change to drop off his nightly reports.
    Landon explained the attack; he’d been on his way home from where he worked, which was just a few blocks down from his apartment complex. The group of three or four teenagers had surrounded him from one of the alleys, demanding his wallet before punching him in the face and throwing him to the ground. They’d pulled his wallet straight out of his pocket, taking all the money before throwing the empty pocket-book back at him. The group kicked and beat on him for a few more minutes, before growing bored and heading back into the alley.
    The officer took down everything he said and asked a few questions to clear up a few of the more obscure details. He then led Landon back to the front desk, gave him the standard pleasantries, and with that the night was over. Landon used the public phone inside the station to call for a taxi and stepped outside to wait. Looking down at his watch again, he groaned as it was approaching four-thirty. The taxi arrived shortly after and proceeded with the relatively short ride back to his apartment complex.
    Landon locked the door of his apartment behind him, looking up at the clock. It was only a few more hours he would have to be up and getting ready to head back to work and the bustle of the night’s activities had taken their toll. He waved off the idea of a shower and changing clothes again and fell back onto his bed, pulling the top blanket over him from the side to get what sleep he could.

    The next couple weeks passed more or less uneventfully. The swelling and cuts on his face healed. The skin on his hand had healed over as well, although it also still throbbed on occasion. He started taking different routes home at night, although the inconvenience irritated him. He still worried too, since it was hard to know what streets were safe and which ones weren’t on any particular night.
    Tonight he’d taken a back street, trying to stick to the more brightly lit areas under awnings as he walked. His hands were sunk in his pockets, his paycheck stuffed into his wallet. He’d given some thought to picking up a small handgun or some similar weapon to protect himself with, but the price and the possibility that the kids might be carrying weapons as well let him shrug off the idea. No sense escalating a beating to a shooting after all.
    “Hey man, got any change tonight?” Came the call as Landon rounded the corner. The group of kids stepped out from the shadows, two stepping out in front of him while one moved behind him and the other two slipping to the open side in the street. They looked at him for a moment before the one behind him started laughing.
    “Hey Dan, isn’t this the guy we mugged a couple weeks ago?”
    “Heh, yeah, I think so, guess the guy didn’t learn his lesson about walking the streets at night.”
    “Wonder how much he’s got on him, last time it was barely even worth kicking his ass.”
    Landon looked around, starting to panic, his heart was beating in his throat and his hand was throbbing again. Suddenly the one behind him grabbed him by his coat and threw him out into the middle of the street. Landon slipped to one knee, but quickly pushed himself back up to his feet, looking around, hoping someone would see. It was a full moon and he was now out in the middle of the street, someone could easily see what was happening.
    The kids surrounded him again, laughing in anticipation of another easy profit. The one in front of him came in, swinging his fist for Landon’s face. He clenched his eyes shut, anticipating the pain of contact. Instead of his face though, he felt the impact on his palm. He’d brought his hand up and managed to catch the punch before it struck him. The impact made his hand throb even more though, his fingers reacting to it by clenching, grabbing the kid’s fist in a tight grip. The teenager looked around at his friends, startled by what happened before swinging with his other fist. The impact came on the side of his face, square in the cheek. The force was there, but it didn’t hurt like it should have. Landon blinked and looked around; the other kids were all looking back and forth at each other.
    “Don’t just stand there you guys. Get him!” The kid in his grip yelled to his gang, yanking his arm back, trying to break free.
    The teen to his right ran up, swinging his leg into Landon’s mid-section. Again there was the impact, but no pain. He turned his head and looked at the kid, shocked that his attack hadn’t done any apparent damage. From somewhere deep in Landon’s throat came a low growl, the sound reverberating through his neck and chin, somehow pushing his lips up into a thin smile. The kid’s eyes got wide and he backed away, tripping on the step of the sidewalk.
    Landon turned his eyes from the one in front of him to the other two on his left and opened his mouth to taunt them, instead releasing another feral noise, a loud snarl that twisted his mouth into an even wider grin. Landon yanked forward on the youth whose fist he was still clamped on, swinging his other hand around in a fist of his own, taking the kid full in the face. He heard the crack of broken bone, as he felt his knuckles make contact with the teen’s face. Blood gushed from the freshly shattered nose and the kid crumpled to the ground. The rest of the gang stood still, shocked at what had just happened.
    Landon took a deep breath, and finally realized his whole body was now throbbing, but it wasn’t pain. He held his hands up to his face. His fingers were longer, his nails sticking out of the tips of his fingers looking more like claws. His forearms bulged, laden with muscle he’d never had and hair as thick and as course as that on his head covered his arms. He reached up and touched his face, finding his nose standing out far further then it should have, his fingers trailed down his own lips, and under them, discovering teeth the length of what a bear should have.
    Ears no longer human twitched on top of his head as the rest of the gang bolted down the street. An instinct deep inside him was triggered and he gave chase, taking strides with such speed that he caught up with the first one in mere seconds, grabbing him by his shirt and flinging him into the side of the building as Landon passed by, grabbing the next two at the same time and pushing them to the ground, standing on their backs, pressing them into the dirt of the street. He crouched on top of them, the last teen still running. His lips curled back in a snarl as he sprang off the two he’d pulled down, catching up to the kid in mere moments. The rush of the chase taking him over, his claws raking the kid’s back and spinning him around in time to see Landon’s open mouth close around his face, teeth sinking into the sides of his head and pulling out a large chunk as Landon’s head wrenched back.
    He shook his head, sending the chunk flying into the street. He turned and looked back toward where he’d left the other kinds in the gang that he’d sprinted past. Two large dogs, like the one he’d seen on the way to the hospital weeks ago, stood next to the pair he’d stomped into the street. Another dog was dragging up the one he’d thrown against the building further back. He turned back around and in front of him sat another large dog and a smaller one. Looking closer, he realized the larger one in front of him was the one he’d seen on the way to the hospital weeks ago, it had the same white patch on top of its head. Something also seemed familiar about the smaller one, but he couldn’t quite place it. It slowly padded up to him and nuzzled his right hand, the one that the stray had bitten him on weeks ago when the kids had mugged him. He looked at his hand and back at the dog. It was smiling in its eyes, its tail wagging lightly. They all seemed to be smiling, tails waving from side to side; and he understood. He was being welcomed to their group, to the pack. He gave in to the instincts welling up inside him and under the light of the full moon in the middle of the street; he threw his head back and howled, the rest of his new friends rising up on their back legs and joining him.

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