The solution in the bottle was a custom blend. A cocktail of derivatives from Acontium and Arnica montana, mixed with morphine. He eased the needle into the bottle, and carefully withdrew the plunger, measuring a precise dosage that he had used for nearly a decade. He drove the needle into his forearm, and pushed the drug into his veins.
    He collapsed into a chair, a leather collar fastened around his neck. He blinked twice before feeling the dizziness overwhelm him. He felt the heavy chain that led away from the collar in his hands. He shook his head. He depended on the drug, but he hated it the way he hated popular music, bland food, the chain around his neck, and plain clothing.
    Can I go on this way forever?
    Through a small barred window, high up the wall in his basement enclosure, he could see the light of the moon. He knew it was full, but could not see the moon itself.
    Probably for the best. It’s always worst when I have a clear view.
    Soon the transformation would overcome him, despite the drug. The toxins would weaken his system and allow the sedative to take effect, but nothing could stop him from becoming the great parody of nature he would become.
    His finger nails had already transformed into long, sharp claws. His thoughts were already turning to base matters such as food, and sex. He forced himself to think like a man. He reached out for the nearest piece of human communication. A letter, written in a familiar but unwelcome hand. He slid his clawed finger nail beneath the flap of the envelope and tore it open in one movement. He read the text inside:
Come and claim what was yours from the cradle
Come and find me too son if you’re able
To get where you’re going look where you’ve been
Though Wolfeman warns you can’t go there again
Mark my trail quick, there’s not much time to save
Or else I’ll take my secrets to the grave
    No signature, only a fingerprint, but he knew who had written it. He had seen the script, and read the style, many times before.
    Well, he thought before blacking out, that’s about as helpful as I’d expected.

One Response to Epilogue

  1. Brad says:

    Great yarn Will! Looking forward to your next book.

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