Supernatural: The Collection

Sliver Bite


If the full moon still held sway over the beasts of myth and silver bullets could end the life of any number of illnesses. Well, not illnesses more like curses. Someone somewhere laid claim to being a victim or a willing participant to a cursed soul. The times when the dead could come alive and the living could be hunted by a legend. That’s where this being was born, but now, here in our time, there is nothing else to do but endure still…

Days and nights seemed like a blur to her. It was all insanely average and run-of-the-mill. Nothing ever seemed to stick out or make any day different from the one before it or the one after it. But that was only after the fact. That one night, the one singular night to change everything…

She was walking along after work, trying to get to the dormitory before lights out. It was a hard decision when she came to the crossroads, go straight down the lit sidewalk or duck into the back alley? Biting her bottom lip, she weighed her options and shrugged. She’d been down the alley plenty of times; it made more sense to save time, than to waste it. Even if there was a rash of disappearances in the area, she accounted it all to people cutting school before finals. This end of town swallowed kids alive all the time, just give them a few weeks to come up for air.

Indifference and the urge to make it back quickly drove her down the alley. Sure there were people in the shadows, someone shooting up, another flash of a woman bending down in front of a man, maybe someone staggering out to ask her for change. Living here for almost four years, she’d seen it all and nothing really scared her anymore. At her parent’s insistence she got a can of mace and a small antique blade, both of which she knew how to use.

Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight braid and pinned on top of her head. Pale hazel eyes followed the ground in front of her and she kept her hands in the front pockets of her jeans, fingering the mace and knife in turn, just in case. She turned left and continued down another stretch of asphalt. Her shoes squeaked as she groped for something to hold onto, almost falling face first into a deep puddle.
Looking up, she smiled weakly at the suited man at her side.

Standing up straight, she giggled nervously and spoke softly, “I’m very sorry, sir. I…I didn’t mean to grab onto you like that.”

He extended his hand to her and she took it, “No problem really. You should watch out and be more careful.”

With a nod, he turned and left her. She blushed to the roots of her hair at his reprimand, bowing her head. Watching him walk away, she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, continuing her way home.

Nicole couldn’t get him out of her head and as the clouds broke over head with a torrent of water and rolling thunder, she gasped, ducking into an abandoned warehouse. She sighed and glanced around, then took off her shirt, wringing out the water for the most part and leaning against the wall, waiting as the dings of droplets sounded above her head on the sheet metal roof.

She heard something fall to the floor behind her and she gasped, whirling around. The darkness made it hard to see and she pulled out her mace and pointed it in front of her. Her eyes darted back and forth and she squinted.

A wet hand fell on her shoulder and she screamed at the top of her lungs, “No!!! Ahhh!!! Go away!!!!”

She went to press the depression on the cap of the mace and someone pulled it away from her. Holding her arms up in front of her face, she blinked and locked eyes with the suited man from before. His lips though they looked soft were set in a hard and thin line. His left eyebrow was arched as he handed her can back to her.

Smirking Michael ran a hand over his jet black hair, pulling the ponytail in back tighter. He glanced around and pulled out his lighter, lighting it and leaving her alone. His voice carried as he moved, “So, you grab random people in the alley and hide in abandoned warehouses during a storm. My, my how interesting.”

She knew he was just being sarcastic and she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, retorting, “Of course. You know, if you were looking for a place for a prostitute, they’re on the next street over. I heard they really love men in suits.”

He seemed not to be listening to her and set fire to a barrel of garbage. Glancing back at her, he shrugged and took off his jacket and tie, then his shirt. Nicole averted her eyes as he wrung them out, and then hung them over an exposed stair-rail.

He watched her look away and licked his lips, shaking his head and chuckling, “A bit squeamish of the male body, are you? You look to be of college age, so I doubt you haven’t seen a naked boy in the last eight hours.”

Glaring at him, she moved closer to the fire and held her hands out, trying to warm and dry them. With a sigh she spoke softly, “I’m so dead. I missed lights out by almost ten minutes ago.”

He nodded and looked her over. Not so bad, a bit plain, but when you’re still an undergraduate it’s a bit hard to afford anything that isn’t last season or from a clearance rack. Shrugging, he sat on an old stack of cinderblocks and motioned for her to do the same, grey eyes watching her speculatively.

She sat near him and smiled a bit, mumbling her thanks for the fire. Pulling her knife from her pocket, she yanked it from it’s holster and started to clean under her fingernails. Nicole felt his eyes on her body and looked up, imitating his left eyebrow arch with a small smirk.

Michael shook his head at her imitation of him and smiled. As she turned away, he couldn’t help but stare at her, taking back his rash judgment. In the firelight, she was gorgeous. He could feel the thunder rattler the building and make her jump. Slowly he pulled the elastic band from his hair and combed his fingers through it, humming softly under his breath.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him free his hair and her jaw dropped. She turned and stared at him, blinking. It fell in lovely soft waves and framed his face, but the look in his eyes when they fixed on her was unnerving. Something animalistic and primal about them, even more so with the bangs that came forward just to his eyes. Nicole inwardly shivered and scooted closer to the fire, retracting her blade and sticking it back in her pocket.

He grinned at her reaction and glanced around, looking for something to do to pass the time. By the sounds overhead, they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. His blood started to race and he felt his senses pick up her scent, sweet vanilla and lavender. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he tried not to look at her, staring at the ground. His inner beast called for her blood and he fought it, breaking out in a bit of a sweat.

Nicole heard him gasp and saw him with his head in his hands, sweating. She stood up and moved to his side, reaching out to se if he was alright. Blinking in surprise she felt his hand encircle her wrist and pull her close. When his other hand found hers, she gasped and pulled them free, unsure of what to do as he nuzzled against her stomach. Blushing, she gently ran them trough his hair, biting her bottom lip when he groaned.

His voice shook as if in pain, “I’m sorry miss. I…” He let go of her and reached for his still damp shirt. Buttoning it rather quickly, he tried to keep his hands from shaking. He decided to introduce himself now, the tips of his ears reddened, “My name is Michael Smith and I must apologize again. I didn’t mean to intrude on your personal space.”

She blinked and shrugged, crossing her arms around herself, trying not to stare when he got dressed again. Smiling, she sat down once more and looked at the fire, “Nice to meet you, Michael, my name is Nicole Gordon. And don’t worry about it; I’ve been groped at work plenty of times.” Laughing softly, she unpinned her hair and pulled it to fall free, sighing.

He smiled and laughed with her, liking the sound. Crimson tinged his vision as he looked up into a hole from a missing piece of roofing sheet metal. The clouds parted just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the full moon. Groaning, he stood up and covered his face with his hands, trying to move away from her and the fire.

Seeing him stagger about and cover his face, plus hearing him moan, caused her to gasp and get to her feet, holding out her hands. Her eyes were wide as she tried to calm him. Something was definitely wrong and when he lifted his head up and his eyes caught the light, glittering otherworldly, she lifted her hand to her mouth.

Pain burned through his limbs and drove him to shoulder her aside, striving for the shadows. The change was creeping through his skin and boiling his blood. Snarling, he collapsed on the ground and shifted. His nails and teeth grew as well as his hair. In fact his whole body was covering itself in fur. A low grunt escaped his lips as he stood up on his legs…hind legs now, the suit pants barely keeping his groin covered, a tail poking out the back and swishing back and forth. Sniffing the air, he crouched low and moved towards her. His face had elongated into the characteristic snout and his lower jaw hung open, tongue lolling around. Michael’s ears pricked forward as he moved, claws clicking on the concrete.

Nicole watched in horror as he changed almost right before her eyes. She gasped and covered her mouth, backing away. Fear caused and adrenaline rush in her body. Her back hit a stack of plywood and she fell backwards when the stack did. Lifting her head she came face to face…err, snout with him. Groping backwards, she pulled herself against the plywood boards and tried to get to her feet. Scrambling to her feet, she ran for the door, only to have him run along side her in a blur of black and block her way.

He didn’t want her to leave and spread the news of werewolves being back all of a sudden. Standing on his hind legs, her grabbed her and held her tight against him while she squirmed to get free. He buried his snout into her hair and sniffed her neck, licking gently to reassure her he meant her no real harm. Letting go of her, he fell to all fours and butted his head against her bum, pushing her towards the fire. Michael prodded her more so that she would sit and he seemed to smile sitting next to her on the floor.

She didn’t know what to do but sit and be with him. He obviously wasn’t going to let her go and she knew it. Biting her bottom lip, she reached out hesitantly and touched one of his ears. Nicole took a deep breath and scratched behind his ears gently. Hearing him purr she smiled and used both hands behind his ears, watching his eyes close and his head droop.

Michael had to give her credit; she had caring and careful hands. Sighing he laid down beside her, putting his head in her lap and closing his eyes. Though he might have been a werewolf now, it didn’t mean that that was his inner demon. Far from it, he was getting tired of fighting his senses and darker side and licked her thigh.

Giggling when he licked her, Nicole racked her brain for a way to get free. The rain was slowing up and she glanced around, pupils dilating as needed to try and discern something from the dark. A weapon would be good or even better a way out. That’s when she remembered her small knife and shifted her body a bit to pull it out as well as the can of mace.

He felt her movements and blinked looking up at her curiously. The weird scraping of metal on leather perked his ears and head up. Michael saw her holding the blade out at him, determination and fear in her eyes. The scent fell off of her in waves and he inhaled it deeply. A low growl came from his throat as he took a few steps back, prepared to pounce on her. But his vision clouded and reddened more as his upper lip curled back, exposing his fangs.

Nicole didn’t know really what to do. His demeanor had changed so fast, she wasn’t properly prepared for it. Licking her lips, she brandished the blade in front of him and sprayed the mace at his paws to see if he understood still. But that glazed look in his eyes, the way he moved around her slowly in a circle all spoke volumes. He was fully transformed now, a killing machine of unknown proportions. Shivering, she watched his movements until she found and opening and dashed past him.

She was doing exactly what he wanted her to do. Running made the hunt so much better. He growled and lunged at her, following her scent and the sound of her shoes. With teeth bared he snapped at her, and then stood on his hind legs. Extending his paws out, her swung at her, connecting with the side of her head, knocking her sprawled out on the floor. He came over and stood over her on all fours again, licking his jowls.

Her head was pounding and she wanted to get up, but when her vision stopped spinning, she found him above her and her knife was out of reach. Helplessly she groped for it, but came up short just as his mouth clamed on her neck, right above her collarbone. She cried out and started to kick as he pushed her against the concrete. Warmth spread along her back and she felt her blood soaking into her shirt.

Blood, glorious blood…Oh god, the smell of it….He let go of her neck and started to nuzzle the wound. That fit of madness had passed and he whined softly. Realization of his deed set in and he was saddened. Licking at her face, he nudged her to get up.

As his tongue lapped along her cheek, she concentrated all her energy on grabbing her knife. She knew it was pure silver, one of the nifty things about buying it at an antique store. With a quick movement she shoved the knife right under his jaw, and then cut downwards, ignoring his howl of pain and the feel of his blood on her face as well as the rest of her body.

Michael was stunned and he fell to his side next to her as she sat up on her shoulder, holding her neck, looking pale as death. His body shifted to normal and he looked at her sadly, mouthing some words, “Sorry. But you are cursed now.” He closed his eyes and slipped into darkness.

She didn’t know what to do, part of her wanted to just die, but she shoved the thought away. Her will was strong and she pulled herself up by holding onto the wall. Shaking, she moved to the door, glad the rain had stopped. As she pushed it open, her vision tilted and reeled. Vertigo overtook her and she fell forward into a puddle. Dimly, she heard the sound of feet and police sirens in the distance. Closing her eyes, she faded away.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Blinking, she woke up and found herself hooked to a heart monitor and an IV in her hand. Looking around she sat up in bed and touched her neck, feeling new stitches there. Groaning, she swung her legs around to the edge of the bed and saw that it was night again. Nicole felt different and she knew what it was, the Werewolf’s Curse. Growling, she yanked the IV out of her hand and pried off the heart monitor pads. The line went dead and she went closer to the window. Pressing her face against the glass, she sniffed and saw the moon just over the horizon. Her eyes widened and she stared. Something primal stirred inside her mind and body. The nurses rushed in just in time to see her jump from the third story window and land on a car.

Running away, she tore off her hospital gown and howled, shifting. On all fours she dashed through the city, back to that abandoned warehouse. Ducking under the crime scene tape, she sniffed around trying to find where Michael was. It didn’t smell quite like death in the building, but she whirled on her hind legs, feeling someone behind her. Nicole blinked and found herself staring at Michael.

He fell to all fours and she followed suit, bowing her head. He butted his head to hers and touched his nose to hers, understanding what she did, she did in fear. Speaking silently to one another with subtle body language, they made there way out and away from town.

Not a silver bullet, not a cure.