The Howling Blackout

 

We came across the beast almost by accident. We’d been staying in a hotel in the Tampa Bay area following the conclusion of the immediate previous investigation, and I was browsing my phone on my bed while Hugh was up compiling his notes by the desk. As we were going about our business, right around five in the morning, the power started flickering. First just the once, but soon twice, a third time, with more and more frequency until it settled into almost a rhythm.

Hugh slammed down his papers in annoyance.

“I certainly hope they haven’t decided to start tinkering with the electricity at this hour,” he huffed and slid his papers neatly into a folder, and that folder into his bag.

“They’re probably dealing with the same faultiness, and others have probably already started complaining,” I offered.

“Well, they’re about to get one, if they aren’t,” he got up, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and went out. I hastily slipped my shoes on and followed suit, deciding the situation wasn’t formal enough to require leaving my comfy pajamas.

As we took the stairs down a floor to the lobby, he leaned over to whisper.

“Indeed, it appears you were right.”

Surrounding the desk were the current night-owl tenants, like ourselves, furiously demanding explanations and refunds, among other things. I endeavored to steer Hugh clear of joining the fray, but the bits and pieces we could pick up indicated that it was no fault of the hotels, but rather the power coming in, which wouldn’t stop fluctuating. While they dealt with demands to turn their generators on, provide a free dinner, the works, my curiosity lead me outside and Hugh, with nothing better to do, followed suit.

Standing in the parking lot of the hotel room, no immediate cause was visible, but it was clear the problem wasn’t just us. Neon signs of various businesses were struggling with the fluctuating power. Several shops had customers in the lot, complaining or leaving without whatever they came for.

“Rough night to be epileptic,” I noted.

“I’m glad Hannah doesn’t live in this area,” Hugh answered, without turning around. “Do you hear that?”

On his suggestion, I paid close attention to what I could hear and tried to drown out what noise was present nearby, as another flicker blinked the town into an abstract moonlit sketch for the briefest of moments.

“Is that… a howl?”

Hugh shrugged, “Sounds like it, but it’s hard to make out.”

“Some wolves having fun out there?”

He shook his head, “No, it’s more than that. Listen.”

I listened, and waited.

…

The town’s lights flickered again, and I heard it once more. I looked back at Hugh.

“Are they… worried about the lights going out?”

“Oh, come now, the Moon’s bright enough to keep any hungry dog happy as circumstances allow. No, I’m suspicious that it might be the cause.”

“The cause? But why?”

“Well, if I remember right, that’s the direction the power station is in. And the timing doesn’t feel coincidental.” I was a bit confused, but nodded, and we hopped in Hugh’s little maintenance truck, heading east.

 

Navigating by howl was no easy feat, and it started to become emotionally difficult as it grew more and more clear, making it apparent that the howl was lined with a pained tone. Still, I did my best to listen as Hugh did his best to drive, and we made our way past the menagerie of shops and houses whose lights were also troubled by the mysterious source.

After a few minutes, we found ourselves pulling up in front of the Florida Mongoose Generating Station. It was indeed louder here than anywhere else, and even one quick search in either direction had made it clear it was definitely coming from here.

We got out of the truck right as a huge white-and-blue flash lit up the power plant, and a piercing howl swelled out from the space within the walls, louder and more pained than any we’d heard yet. As we approached the gate, I had an awful feeling, one where every ounce of your body tells you that you’re making a terrible decision, but you just can’t see why.

“Do we have any weapons?” I asked Hugh.

“Weapons? I’m a researcher, not a hunter.”

“Right, well, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Well, I just thought I’d tell ya,” he gave a silly grin.

Fearing a bit for our safety, I pulled on Hugh’s bag and dug around for a flashlight.

“Why do you have a spare set of clothes in here?”

“It’s useful.”

“’Coffee First, Questions Later’? Do you even drink coffee?”

“Nancy, something in that power station is howling in pain, do you need help finding the flashlight?”

“No, no, I found it.”

Hugh shouldered the bag back up, and we made our way to the gate. It was a simple chain-link set of double-doors bridging the gap between two segments of brick. Quick as can be, Hugh drew a pair of bolt-cutters out of his bag, snipped the lock, and slid it back again before ushering me inside.

“You keep bolt-cutters, but not weapons?”

Before he could respond, a howl cracked the conversation away from us, and Hugh quickened his pace towards the source, with me following behind, my resolve hardening in anticipation of what we might see.

The station was quiet, the eerie absence of sound which might prelude the arrival of a monstrous beast encompassed the whole of the plant. Hugh and I shared a glance as we travelled towards the heart of the silver spires.

As we neared what seemed to be the source, I pulled Hugh by the shoulder back towards me.

“Are you really sure about this? If you’re just trying to look cool, now is a perfectly okay time to bail.”

Hugh gave me a careful look before a long exhale drifted out from between his lips.

“I believe, honestly, that I am probably the most well-equipped person in the region, possibly the country, to deal with this problem.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve done so before.”

“And you think you’re the best?”

“Well, even if I didn’t, I certainly wouldn’t leave whoever, or whatever might be behind that door to the folks best known for having a gun on their hip.”

It was an interesting phrase, one spoken with the light of a fire in his eyes, and probably the most solid thing he’d said to me on this trip. So I nodded.

“Alright, then let luck be on our side.”

We turned the corner, reaching the core, and we finally saw it.

 

Laying upon the ground, limbs folded at uncomfortable angles, was a humanoid creature. Its fur, which appeared to have once all-encompassed its form, was singed and burned in several places, with the visible parts of skin worn and bloodied in terrible and disgusting patches. Its maw, which extruded from its face like a claw, bore dozens of teeth with the appearance of cracked and battered hooks.

As we approached the tormented creature, it rose from its slumped position, turned with a stagger that’d topple a drunk, and put both hands into the wiring of a capacitor behind it.

A shrill whine followed by a ferocious howl erupted from the jaws of the beast as a bright flash illuminated the distinct head of a wolf, which crowned the twisted and crisp form it bore.

The beast tumbled back, its stumble landing it face-down once more before us, with a grace that looked practiced.

“Is it—” I began, but I wasn’t really certain what I was aiming for, “How many times has it done this..?”

“At least twenty, but I stopped counting when we left the hotel. It’s been a lot.”

“Is it okay?”

“Well, physically, it must be doing rather impressively to still have both the strength and the will to throw itself at that machine over and over again. But I can’t imagine it’s okay, mentally.”

“Can we do anything?”

He smiled, “Now you’re getting it. And possibly, but if it gets up again, we’ll need its permission.”

“Permission? To supply help?”

“Did you see those claws?” He looked at me, eyebrow raised.

As we spoke, the creature rose once more from its brief respite, its head shaking off the latest tussle with pain and electricity. As it began turning back to the box, its bloodshot blue eyes locked onto us. There was a brief flicker of an expression on its face that looked rather like disappointment, before it focused into a look of neutrality and focus, stability and cunning.

 

The look of a hunter.

 

“RUN!” was all I heard before both myself and Hugh found ourselves sprinting between electrical boxes and coiled spires, the monstrous clawed devil bounding after us. It slammed and bounced off panel after panel, giving it the appearance of a car managing to run into practically everything.

Hugh opened his mouth to say something, but an idea struck him and he waved me to follow him in a sharp right turn, and I realized we were headed straight towards the gate.

Behind us, the creature kept bashing into panel and machine as it followed us, its speed hindered as it half heartedly switched back and forth from that action and chasing us.

Soon, we passed the gate, and Hugh threw open his side as I leapt into mine. By the entryway, the wolf-thing tore at the chain link of the fence, appearing tangled. As the engine kicked to life, the fence gave way, and we began hurtling down the empty street, as the behemoth seemed to become far more focused, thundering down the asphalt after us, claws piercing into the road as though it were paper.

In mere moments, it was right on our tail, and its claws took hold of the small trucks bumper, flinging itself on board, the wheels squealing in protest at the sudden increase in load.

“Oh, fuck!” flew from my lips as this monster bit and bit into the cabin of the truck, and Hugh had to duck to not get cut by the fangs digging themselves into the metal. In a panic, he threw the wheel to the side and sent us sailing off the road, into a small recess in the meadow-y wood.

The car rattled and bumped along the dirt-and-grass plane, the werewolf pulling the roof of the cabin off and we felt the brisk night air drool its way into the cabin, the shiny bone-white teeth of the appalling pursuer holding firm to the metal as it tried to shake it from its jaws. As Hugh looked up and saw this sight, he slammed his foot on the brake, and our momentum came steeply down, throwing the toothy hazard into the trees in front of us.

“Shit,” Hugh threw his door open before the car had completely decelerated, leaping out in pursuit. I had the foresight to jump into the drivers seat and bring the car to a full stop, before following suit.

As my feet thudded against the ground in my landing, I was struck with the same thought as I had been at the power plant, and pulled a shovel out from the back of the truck, noticing with a groan that the ladder, several buckets, and a handful of the sharper tools were missing. I hauled the shovel over my shoulder and hustled in the general direction of Hugh and the Wolf-Brute.

Dashing through the trees, I felt again that sense of dread at confronting a dangerous situation. That bizarre state where your brain reminds you of how bad everything is and how much safer you’d be doing literally anything else.

Resolving to get a therapist after this, I quickened my pace in search of the pair.

Thankfully, I soon found a path of smashed twigs and human footprints, following their lead until the trees broke and I found them standing in the parking lot of an empty gas station on a barren road, the only illumination coming from the neon sign declaring the brand of the station, and that it would reopen in some three hours or so.

As I stepped closer, I realized the Wolf-Thing wasn’t standing, it was seated on the curb of a grass patch, nursing spots in its chest where metal and glass debris had made root, but it was tall enough seated to be nearly as tall as Hugh. They were watching one another, two strange gunslingers cut out of the moonlight on a gas-pump stoop.

I saw Hugh was talking, words were coming out of his mouth, but the ringing in my ears from the sudden calm made the words hard to make out. I took some deep breaths and a few cautious steps forward.

“—help. I know it’s been a lot, but its possible.”

He paused, and The Wolf was silent, watching Hugh carefully.

“We can bandage you, too. I’ve got some equipment that we could use to help you.”

A huff. No more.

“Well? Would that be alright with you?”

The beast was silent for a spell, before raising its head to the sky. Hugh and I followed its gaze, and there, on the edge of the horizon, was the rising sun. A pale look crossed Hugh’s face, and I heard a chorus of cracks and gasps. Turning back to the monster, I witnessed one of the most uncomfortable sights of my life.

As the wolf began to stand, it began to shed. Layers upon layers of hair fell from its body, far more than it had to begin with. Its limbs, long and lanky, split into segments that dangled like a broken slinky from their sockets, gradually reshaping themselves into thinner and more human limbs. The excess skin and muscle joined in falling and splitting like a snake’s skin, and the wolf let out a pained pant that sounded almost like a tired laugh.

The change took mere moments, and there was much that I did not see beneath all that hair, but what remained in that pile of skin, fur, and bone shrapnel, was a girl. A woman younger than myself, with brown hair going gray crazy early, and a pale complexion. She looked at the both of us, smiling sleepily with tears in her eyes. She mouthed something I didn’t catch, and she promptly fell into the heap, falling asleep almost instantly.

I know the scene had left me slack-jawed, as I realized how silly I must’ve looked when I turned to Hugh, and found him with a far-away and saddened expression.

“That was a were-wolf?”

“Well, she wasn’t a bear.”

“I know, but, well—”

“Were you not sure what a werewolf is?”

“I am, it’s just— It’s really strange, you know?”

He paused for a moment, watching me carefully, and then turned his attention to the figure in the fur.

“We may have done something good tonight, hm?”

Indeed we had, and I was rather hopeful that we’d saved this girls’ life, but still more questions nagged at me.

“Why are you not shocked by this? Or at least mildly surprised?”

“Huh? Because this is my job.”

“And just how many werewolves have you seen in the course of this job?”

It was impressive how brief the lost look in his eyes was.

“One.” He stood, striding over to the girl, “Come on.” Pulling a t-shirt and shorts out of his pack, he quickly dressed the girl in the clothes, which lead to her looking like she’d just fallen asleep as some lover’s apartment, not the night she’d just had, before picking her up and carrying her towards the gas station. It was unexpected how easily he did so, given how thin he appeared.

We took shelter from being seen in the back office of the gas station, where Hugh checked the girl for wounds.

“Do you always keep spare clothes in your bag? For situations like this?”

“Yep, yep.”

“Why?”

“Once was quite enough times to be unprepared.”