| abstract
| - by Phil Brucato "Give it to me!!" The cry, more snarl than words, rips through the basement air like claws through old burlap. Sean spins, sees, staggers as though he were struck. oh shit…. The old ancestor. A ghost of a wolf. An Eater of Children. "Give me the brat." The lupine thing, twice a man’s height, bends low in the basement gloom and extends a sharp-taloned paw toward Sean. Behind it, the flames of Malfeas cast a green pallor across matted fur. In the darkness, its eyes burn with inner hells. "Give it to me." the words come not from its mouth, but from its mind. They churn through Sean’s thoughts like a flaming chainsaw, leaving tatters and ashes behind. "It’s a beast, like me. Kill it. Now." It’s a trick. Drunk as he is, Sean can sense that much. This thing, if it wanted to, could tear Sean into ribbons and chew his son like old tobacco. If it needs to demand something, he thinks, suddenly sobered, then it needs me to make the next move. To hand it Ryan. His son, the monster. Despite himself, Sean moves between the gate and his son: "Fuck you. No" He expects the monster to leap from the gateway, grab him between its massive hands and turn him into confetti. Instead, it laughs, a barking, hollow, booming cough. Suddenly, the room is gone. Sean stands on the wastelands of Malfeas, naked in the hands of the gigantic wolf-thing. Somewhere in a-place-not-here, he feels concrete slam into his knees, feels the hard shock of bruising kneecaps. But here, he’s in the grasp of a monster. The Child-Eater from his dreams. Then this must just be one more dream, he thinks, but he’s not that lucky. "Keep the little bastard if you like." The wolf-thing is "speaking" again, ravaging Sean with its mind. And then the scene shifts and the ground is slick with blood, covered in torn limbs and gaping corpses. "If that’s what you want, to Hell with you." The wolf-thing laughs again and retreats, pulling away from Sean and leaving him knee-deep in carnage. "He’s your son, after all. Your son, my descendant. A drunk and a monster. What a proud legacy he’ll enjoy!" The booming laugh rumbles in his ears. The landscape fades into spinning darkness. And the Bane dances in the air as Sean awakens face-down in a pool of puke. "You drunken sot bastard. What in Hell have you done?" It’s Clarissa’s voice, harsh with worry and disgust. Her soft English accent sharpens the venom in her tone. "Lost your mind as well as well as your job, and your stomach on top of all?" Sean levers himself up on bleeding, crusty hands. The gateway is gone, the wolf-thing banished. In the candle-light, Clarissa kneels beside her son, holding him far out of his father’s reach. The darkness can’t hide the look on her face. oh jesus, what a mess, what a mess this must look like…. "Holy God, you smell terrible." She stands, lifts her bleeding, silent son. "Are you perfectly insane?" Sean shakes his head, tries to find the words…. She cuts him off: "Don’t even bother." Candle-light catches the faint glint of tears, but her voice is firm. "You’re out. Tonight. Don’t even bother washing up, just leave." For a moment, Clarissa looks like the woman from his dreams. Like the tattooed Pict defending her child against the beast. Only this time, he’s the beast. Out of sight, the Bane settles into Clarissa’s heart and begins to feed. Anger, loss, love, betrayal. A wonderful banquet of human misery. "You rotten drunk bastard," Clarissa rasps. Inside, spite begins to build, a hundred fights and a hundred more unspoken, rush up and spill out in a torrent: "You miserable excuse for wretched garbage…." It starts — the fight that’s been coming for so long. Ryan begins to growl. Clarissa doesn’t notice. As Sean shoves himself to his feet, she lays into him with a ferocity he’s never heard. Not like they haven’t had their fights, but this…! Clarissa boils over with insults she’s never dared to speak. Taunts of impotence, incontinence, insanity… Sean fumbles, tries to apologize, but she cuts him off. Rakes him with verbal talons and leaves him for dead. Meanwhile, her son is snarling too, baring his teeth at the spiritual attacker in his mother’s breast. Finally, Sean surrenders to the hate. He bares his verbal claws and lays into her like an angry hawk. The Bane is having too good a time. Somewhere far away, it notices the presence of a young Garou, but the meal is too sweet, the hatred running too fresh and hot to ignore… Ryan bites his mother. "JESUS!!" Clarissa screams, drops the child. Ryan hits the floor with a loud crack. The Bane, startled, flees its host. "Good God, ‘Lissa!" Sean lunges for his son. Ryan starts to scream, and his voice sounds a little like a wolf-cry. "You stupid slut…" "Get away from him!" Clarissa shoves her husband aside. Grabs her screaming son. Blood starts seeping through the front of her shirt, but she doesn’t seem to notice. "Get OUT!! Just GET THE HELL OUT!!" He does. But not without a fight. Image:Stub-WTA.png This Werewolf: The Apocalypse-related article is a stub. You can help WWWiki by fixing it.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)