Call of the wild

BY : fusedtwilight
Category: Anita Blake > General
Dragon prints: 2899
Disclaimer: I do not own anit blake. I make no profit of any kind from this fanfic or the anita blake series. Anita blake is the property of Laurel K. Hamilton.


Call of the wild Chapter 1 Prelude


 

fusedtwilight: Ok this has been betatised and edited. Nothing much diffrant in this chapter because it's so short. But I deleted all the chapters now that i have microsoft word and a beta. So it will be better for your enjoyment. Please review so i know if you like it.

My name is David. I am 16 years old and I am about to die. I never thought that I would go out like this. I thought it would be simple, clean, in my bed as an old man, or of a heart attack, but instead, I'm going to die a slow and painful death.

Could I have avoided this? Had I made better choices with my life, could it have been less complicated, or had this been predetermined by forces more powerful than me? Or, had I been marked for death merely for being born different than most?

As far as I knew, I was the last of my kind. My ability wasn't something that you could be given. You had to be born with it. For all intents and purposes, I was human. My ability: I could call animals, much like a master vampire can do. But, unlike those masters who only had one, two, or an entire class of creatures to call, control, and manipulate, I could call them all. Wolves, leopards, tigers, bears, snakes, lions, all animals, even those that I had never heard of before, were mine to call. I've had this ability since I was a baby.

When I was born, I had a connection to beasts. They were attracted to me, as well. I remember, when I was young, our house was a hotspot for stray cats, dogs, and many other kinds of animal. We had to move a lot to avoid the little critters. Then, as I grew older and learned how to speak, I found that I could talk to them. Not like Dr. Doolittle or anything like that; they don't speak human. It's hard to explain, but for every bark, growl, chirp, meow, and hoot, I knew what they meant. I knew what they tried to tell me, what they wanted, what they feared. I remember an incident when the local school bully was picking on me after school. He wanted my lunch money, and when I wouldn't fork it over, he started to beat the snot out of me.

I remember wishing that someone would help me, when the neighbor's dog went berserk and attacked the kid. I also remember all of the incidents that involved the more lunarly challenged, meaning the lycanthropes. My ability not only gave me a connection to animals, it also gave me a connection to those beings cursed to change their forms on the night of the full moon. I always knew who was furry.

All I had to do was be within a certain distance and I could sense them. Then, if I saw them, I knew that they weren't human. As I grew older, my abilities grew stronger. I learned how to tell what species of wereanimal they were, how long they had been changing, and how strong they were. I've always felt a strong pull to the furry and them to me. I was the outcast in school. I was the freak who would talk to animals, and so I was never very sociable.

Growling at people will do that.

My parents fought about me a lot. My dad was constantly taking me to shrinks and psychologists; he would even have the doctors give me Cat Scans. My mom said that I was gifted, that I was blessed by God. Inevitably, my parents split up and my mom got full custody of me. After that, my life was a giant rollercoaster, ups and downs, with more downs than ups. Finally, I got fed up with the constant lies, deceptions, and blood shed. I left my old life and came to St. Louis, to start over. I faked my age so that I could get a job at The Zoo, a restaurant that caters mostly to lycan customers.

I know that it's probably not smart to hang out with a bunch of weres, when all it has brought me before is trouble, but it was the only job that I could get where people really wouldn't notice my ability, and it paid well. Not many humans wanted to work anywhere near the furry. I also worked part time at the local zoo. My gift made me an excellent handler, and I was very helpful with the sick animals.

Even the most dangerous, most unfriendly animal, was my best buddy. I remember, when I was six, my parents took me to the zoo and I got too close to the railing and fell into the crocodile cage. The crocodiles didn't hurt me, but just took me to dry land and lay next to me. I thought it was cool, my parents not so much. It's funny, here I am, about to die, and I can't stop prattling on about my life.

I've never been religious, but now, facing the end, I have to wonder where I'm going, up or down. Lord knows, I've done things that I regret, and truly wish that I could take back, but I can't. All I can do is feel guilt over those mistakes for the rest of my life and try not to make anymore. What's done is done and can never be undone. This is my story, how I came to St. Louis, how I met Anita Blake, how I learned my true nature, and my connection to the furry. This is the story of how I lived and died.

Fusedtwilight: Please review.



You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story