The darkness is still and hot as it hangs in the plains air. On a night that could use the purification of a breeze to rejuvenate what the heat has removed, there is none. Stagnation is everywhere.

It’s almost closing time at the liquor store that sits just outside the reservation’s boundary. No one has been in for the last thirty minutes now, and the greedy purveyor of hootch is hoping to grab at least a few more sales tonight. Surely someone wants cold beer? On a night like this, a cold one feels so good going down the throat, sliding to the stomach and settling comfortably there. The pleasant buzz to the head makes you forget the cares of the day, of the world; so good.

It doesn’t matter to the greedy fucker that the residents of the reservation can’t really afford to buy what’s for sale in the store. Does he care that by spending money here, a father might be depriving his family of food? Nope. The bottom line, the almighty dollar, that’s what matters. Yes. Squeezing every last dollar out of the Red Man, that’s what’s important. It’s not his fault if someone can’t resist the pull of booze. White people can’t resist it either. Money – its green, doesn’t give a shit what color your skin is.

Fourteen people live in the town on the reservation, and one store serves it. The only business here is booze. There’s nothing to eat, no public rest rooms, nothing other than the liquor. Buy it and be on your way.

Zack can’t take it anymore, he needs a beer. Even though his air conditioner is running, it’s still hot as balls in here. According to the law, he’s not supposed to open the hootch inside the store, but who’s going to catch him? This shit hole is the only place for miles. Cops? There hasn’t been one of those around here for weeks.

He grabs a long-neck out of the cooler, pops the top, and steps outside with it hoping for some sort of a breeze. The change in scenery will do him some good too.

“Damn,” he says, once out the door. “It’s still like a furnace out here.”

Something grabs at his attention, but he doesn’t want to go back inside just yet. He can’t get a handle on it; it’s more of a feeling than anything else. Things aren’t right.

“Who’s there?”

No answer. Maybe it’s all in his head.

A rustling in the prairie grass tells him otherwise. Someone is out there; or something.

“State your business! I’m only warning you once!”

The rustling comes closer, becoming much louder. There is no attempt to muffle the sound. Whatever it is is coming at him fast; much faster than it should be.

Zack drops his beer and races towards the store in fear, intent on grabbing the thirty-eight he left under the counter.

A huge roar rips though the night just as he reaches for the handle. He turns and stares into the face of a hideous wolf-like creature with red eyes, and saliva dripping from a mouth filled with ferocious, bared teeth. It stands upright on its rear legs, towering over him, completely covered in long, reddish fur. It reaches its arms toward him with grotesque claws quivering in anticipation of tearing him apart. Moistness envelops Zack’s pants as he confronts this monster, fear pulsing in every molecule of his being, his heart pounding so hard it might explode from the ferocity of its beating.

The creature lifts Zack into the air above its head, the claws digging deep into his body. He hollers out in pain, cry after cry until no more sound comes from his lips. With sudden swiftness, the wolf-beast brings him down to eye-level. While watching the horrified look on Zack’s face, it engulfs the man’s head in its mouth then tears it from his body. Spitting the head out of its mouth onto the ground, it tosses the still-quivering body on top of it and roars again.

The others come running, some firing their weapons at the monster. It does no good. Within minutes, the town of fourteen is now a town of zero.

~ Blaze McRob

© Copyright 2013 Blaze McRob. All Rights Reserved.

38 thoughts on “LAW OF THE WOLF

  1. Poor Zack. He out smarted the Devil but succumbs to the beast. Such is the life of the Damned. Nice terror tale, Blaze! Your beginning prose got me real thirsty for a cold brew, but I”m at work, so thanks for that little torment! With only a few words you portrayed a fantastic image of the Wolf and his violence. Well done!


    1. Yes, Tyr, Zack did not fare as well in this story. Bad Blaze! However, you did notice that he got a chance to suck on a cold one before he was torn apart. And to think that people say I have no compassion. Tsk, tsk. Thank you for your kind words.



  2. Nice! And the ending was a surprise, because I was expecting the creature to be one of the townsfolk who was, in fact, thirsty for a brew too on the hot evening… 😉


  3. One Zack sized snack coming up! lol – serves the greedy bastard right! (not you Zack, the ‘Snack Zack’ from the story) I love a good monster tale, Blaze, and this monster happens to be my favorite! (not Zack, the Wolf!) Very nice tension… and then there were none. Quick, concise and (pardon the pun) dead on the head! Definitely a fun horror read, Blaze! Now I just have to get the theme to ‘The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly’ out of my head! 😉


    1. Dead on the head is quite accurate, Nina. Pun allowed. Thank you for your kind words. I do like the hairy beasts myself. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is me rolled up into one. I will sing it softly over the net for the next week. Subliminal city!



  4. Karma can be a bitch, and should if that’s the way you roll your dice. I liked the fact that Zack *squirming in my seat as I type this* was a puncture toy before he was finished off.

    With a very limited amount of room, you created a character that was easy to loathe. There were parts of the story that were spot on with reality – we have reservations in our Division territory, and I’m familiar with how life can be.

    It warmed my dark heart to see justice meted out through lupine claws and canines.


      1. Hopefully my comment was taken in the respectful tone it was intended to have.

        I have a little of the blood in my family, but my hoser brother took all of the traits left in the genetic pool. I think we should all take pride in our heritage, and part of that is knowing the paths our Blood have walked.

        Blaze, not all of us have such an infamous and tragic “trail” in our family tree. I would strike too – really fucking hard.


  5. Ahhh, a wonderful tale of laws upheld and bodies broken. Now THIS is one that I can sink my teeth into. *wulven snarl* Poor, poor Zack. Once the grass began a rustlin’ I was hopin’ it was to be curtains for our beer-swillin’ hero. (Nothing wrong with a bit of beer-swillin’ if I do say so myself *and-indeed-I-do smile*) But even devil-evading bartenders can’t avoid the law of the wolf. *toothy grin* A very nice tale, Blaze. And one with the proper outcome. *no-one-here-gets-out-alive grin*


    1. I figured you would enjoy a tale of our wulven brethren, Daemonwulf. Proper outcome indeed. Thank you for your kind words. I can imagine you and I sitting on the porch of the place, drinking a cold one, and sneering at the massacre.



      1. AND, those drinks would be vegetarian! However, the mass-a-cree would not be. *snicker* I did enjoy your tale very much. Methinks every post on POTD should be about the superior wulven/wolven species… *but-then,-I-might-a-smidge-biased smile*


      2. There is a beer fest in my town this weekend and Newcastle Werewolf is one of the beers. Guess who will be one of the ones drinking this one, Wulfy? You and Nina both love the tales of the Wolves. You have a valid point.



  6. A true bite-size tale from Blaze of the Damned! The build-up of atmosphere and suspense was excellent, involving me in the story without giving away what was going to happen next. The stifling heat, the ice-cold beer, the movement in the prairie grass, all played with my senses and made me feel like I was there in the Damned town, hankering after a beer of my own…


  7. Love me some werewolf… And if it came down to me and my town being killed by a monster, or not drinking that beer on a sweltering day? Well, I won’t miss this place 😉


  8. Well done Blaze. I’ve lived in one of those towns before. You captured the feel of those places just right. I enjoyed the end… I think its how all those little pockets of Hell come to be.
    Good story.


    1. Thank you very much, Caliccardi. I could write about many things, but when writing of real life horrors, even in a fiction tale, I feel I am doing what I can to rectify evil, at least from an awareness view point.



  9. Beer…wolf-beast…Zack getting eaten…I mean, what more could I ask for on a Saturday afternoon?? lol

    Great story, Blaze!! It’s been a long week for me, but your story has been well worth the wait. Well-written as usual, and definitely long on (ahem) bite. In a very short & concise tale, you’ve managed to throw my imagination into overdrive, as well fuel the need for more story than what you’ve offered. Kudo’s my friend!! And thank you…I think I’ll crack open a cold one & read about poor ole Zack getting it one more time 😉


    1. Thank you, Joe. Imagination is a great thing, especially when it’s combined with Lupine justice. Short and sweet can be quite effective at times, even for a novel writer such as myself.

      By the way, I enjoyed some Newcastle Werewolf Beer last night. It’s made on the moors of Scotland, and yes, it is Red, my favorite color. Very satisfying!



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.