by Lisa Fleishman ({REL[82][articleGame]GUaTmp6qREL} Fiction)
Nervousness wrenched the stomach of Amelia Stoneburn with an iron grip. The previous evening had been full of disturbing night terrors. She was exhausted and frustrated by her companion’s insistence that her nightmares really meant something. After a less than appetizing breakfast the three friends had loaded up in Nigel’s beat up El Camino and headed off to see one of Johnny’s mystic friends. Amelia felt caged, partially for lack of space in Nigel’s crappy car, and partially due to the pressure that the other two had put on her to visit the mysterious Night Singer. Johnny had proclaimed that if anyone would be able to interpret her dreams, Night Singer could. Amelia felt that the whole thing was unnecessary. There was no interpretation to be done. It had been a bad dream, end of story. Amelia repeated the mantra to herself as the trio drove through town. They pulled up in front of a run down bookstore.
"You’ve got to be kidding," Amelia said as she scowled at Johnny. Despite the yellowed OPEN sign in the window, the place looked like it had been abandoned for years.
"Just because it doesn’t look high class doesn’t mean that Singer doesn’t know the answer to the riddle." Johnny said.
"It looks like it needs to be condemned," she muttered under her breath.
"I heard that, and you better not say anything like that in front of him," Johnny said gesturing towards the store. "He doesn’t tend to have a good sense of humor when it comes to disrespect."
Amelia shrugged, she doubted that anyone of importance could inhabit such a run down crap hole. Nigel just shook his head, "C’mon Mel, let’s just get it over with. Maybe after we’re done we could go to the GAP or something."
"Don’t patronize me," she growled. Nigel snickered and the young Garou entered the bookstore.
The smell of musty books was overwhelming, and Amelia stifled a cough. A haze of dust hung in the air and made the inside of the shop seem darker than it should have. There were racks of books, along with other trinkets that would have been better suited to a voodoo shop. Amelia expected to see some grizzled old man come from the back room. Instead she was surprised.
"Johnny!" A man in his thirties came around a bookshelf to greet his friend.
"Hey Singer, how are you doing?" The two men shook hands. "I want you to meet my friends, this is Nigel," Johnny pointed, "and Mel."
Niceties were exchanged and Amelia found herself wondering, ‘This guy looks more like a professor than a beatnik, what the hell is he doing in a place like this?’
"So, you’re the infamous Night Singer," she said.
"AKA, Marc. Nice to meet you Amelia," he replied.
"Singer was one of the first people I met when I first came to the city," Johnny explained.
"And what a meeting it was!" Laughed Singer. Johnny grinned but didn’t bother to let the other two in on the joke. "Well, let’s go have a seat in my office," invited Singer.
The group carefully traversed through the store. Amelia found herself holding her breath to keep out the smell of mold and other decay. She was careful not to brush any of the dust filled shelves and feared the office wouldn’t be much better. Singer opened an old creaky door and moved aside to let the others go in first. While the office was cleaner and smelled a bit better it contained run down furniture and had the same drab feeling as the rest of the store.
"So," Amelia pondered, "the store turn a good profit for you?" Johnny gave her a look of warning, but she ignored him.
"Good enough," Singer replied.
"The location is a bit out of the way, I bet it’s hard to advertise," she pressed.
"I don’t advertise," he said firmly.
"Ah," she paused as she studied her surroundings, "so you do this as a hobby?"
"Is she always snooty like this?" Singer asked Johnny.
"She’s had a really bad day…" Johnny started.
"No, I was just wondering why you run this dump as opposed to a real business." Amelia gave another look around the place. She found herself being whirled around. The surprise of sudden contact threw her off guard.
"How long have you been one of us?" Singer asked. His grip on her shoulders was firm.
"Don’t touch me!" She tried to squirm away.
"I asked you a question," he snarled dangerously. Amelia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Amelia tried to stare him down; she couldn’t believe the nerve of the guy.
"I said, let go!" Amelia could feel her voice betray her nerves.
"Answer me," he commanded. Amelia felt like she had blinders on. She could see nothing but his eyes, and hear nothing save the beating of her own heart.
"Answer the question." Singers voice was nearly a whisper.
"Not too long."
"How long?"
"A few months." Amelia felt a bead of sweat drip from her brow. She cursed herself for getting shook up by a nobody.
"I will do you a favor," he said as he pulled her closer, "I will forgive your disrespect this time, pup."
"Let go," it came out more as a whimper than an order.
"You need to learn to respect your betters," he warned, "I am very tolerant, fortunately for you." With that he pushed her into a chair, nearly toppling her over. "Sit down."
Amelia could feel her face get flushed. She had never been treated in that fashion before. She saw her two friends carefully sit. She felt her anger rise, she gave Johnny and Nigel an accusing look. They avoided eye contact.
Singer walked around his desk and sat. "So, Johnny. Tell me about your spoiled little friend here," he said gesturing to Amelia. Johnny gave her a quick look. He could tell that she was about to throw a tantrum.
"Well, we meet her at the Uni. She had no idea what she was. We took her in and showed her the ropes. She has hung out with us ever since."
"She have a mentor?" Singer asked casually.
Johnny laughed nervously, "I think that’s a definite no."
"So she hasn’t been recognized?" Johnny shook his head to the negative.
"O.K.," Singer paused for a minute. He turned his attentions back to the smoldering Amelia. "Johnny called me and said that you had a dream."
Amelia was still glaring at Singer. She bit back a smart-ass comment. He raised an eyebrow in warning. She looked to the floor. She heard her chair squeak as she shifted.
"Why don’t you tell me about it." Singer’s tone changed taking on a soothing quality.
"It was just a nightmare," Amelia relied quietly. Her temper was still flaring, and she didn’t trust herself to say much more.
"It must have been pretty disturbing," he continued, " I mean for a grown woman to tell her friends about it." Singer waited a minute, "It must have seemed real." Amelia didn’t respond.
"You know, if you’re right and it was nothing it would put your mind at ease to talk about it," he said. She still wouldn’t speak.
"Johnny, why don’t you tell me a bit about this dream. I can tell that Amelia is pretty choked up."
Johnny sighed; his first meeting with Night Singer hadn’t gone much better. "She had a dream about a Garou that we found in the park," he was interrupted.
"You found a Garou in the park?"
"Yeah, I figured he was a Gnawer. He looked pretty sad, and he smelled like he had never bathed.
Singer contemplated the statement. "What did this Garou look like?"
"Well, he was a pretty big guy, long hair, brown eyes…."
"Did he give his name?"
"No, he wouldn’t," Johnny replied. "But I think we know it, because of Amelia’s vision," he said gesturing to his seething friend.
"And he is…?"
"Morgan, she said his name was Morgan."
Singer came around to the front side of his desk and sat on the corner near Amelia. "I want you to tell me everything," he said focusing on her. "I don’t really care how pissed you are at me, this is very important." Amelia felt like getting up and walking off. She didn’t need this guy to tell her how to live.
"Amelia," he lifted her chin towards him, "I need you to tell me about your dream."
She jerked away from his touch. "Fine." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I had a dream that his life story was a documentary on television. From what I could see he was a cocky jerk." The statement got a chuckle out of Singer. ‘Takes one to know one’ he thought. "Anyways, he hung out with this group of guys," she continued.
"They call themselves Mother’s Vengeance?" He asked.
"Yeah, how did you know?" Amelia looked up confused.
"Just tell your story," he said.
"Well, they decided to go check out some business. I don’t know why. The announcer said something about the Pentagon or something."
"Pentex?" Singer interrupted again.
"That could have been it, are you going to let me tell this thing or what?" Amelia asked impatiently.
"Go ahead."
"So, they went to this place, but it was a set up. There were all of these," she paused to find the right word, "monsters waiting for them." She felt her hands grow cold at the memory of it. "It wasn’t pretty," she finished.
"That was all?" Singer asked.
"No, those things killed his buddies. He would have been next. He couldn’t stop them. So he high tailed it out of there. I guess he lost his marbles after that." She thought of how disturbing it had been to see the vicious combat in her dream, she couldn’t even comprehend living through it. "So in my dream I saw us," she gestured to her friends, "finding him. Well, he wasn’t a very pleasant sort of fellow. I had to burn my bed sheets after he slept in them." She grimaced at how nasty they had looked. "We got him showered up and he left. In my dream he had some sort of accident."
"Accident?" Singer inquired.
"Yeah, like he got hit by a car."
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Well according to the dream it doesn’t look to swell for him." She shrugged, "But it’s just a dream."
"Where did it happen?" Singer inquired.
"I don’t know," she shrugged.
"When did it happen?" He pressed
"I don’t know."
"Where was he taken?"
"I said, I don’t know!" Amelia stood in anger, knocking her chair over. "Fuck this, I’m outta here."
"I didn’t dismiss you." Singer commented.
"I didn’t ask to be," she retorted.
"Are you really this stubborn, or are you just plain stupid?" Singer mocked her.
Amelia shot a look at Johnny, "Thanks for letting me meet your all knowing friend."
"Mel, c’mon. He’s trying to help." Johnny said trying to smooth things over.
"Some help he is!" She exclaimed gesturing in Singers direction.
Nigel spoke up, "You need to hold your temper a little better."
"Or what, this guy will get mad and push me around a little more? Screw this! I don’t need his help or anyone else’s for that matter." Amelia turned to storm out and ran in to something. She looked up to see a huge monster blocking her way. "Oh, shit," she muttered. Amelia found herself dangling from the creatures grasp before she could duck away. Seconds earlier Singer had been a mild mannered looking man, now he was something out of a horror flick.
"So what are you gonna do when they come for you?" Singer growled in her ear. Amelia could feel her anger growing. "What are you going to do? Hide in your exclusive penthouse? Run away in your shiny new car?"
"I’m warning you…"Amelia snarled.
"What are you going to do, hit me with your purse?" Singer taunted again. Amelia could stand it no more. Her vision turned red as she forgot about trying to calm herself. A howl welled in her throat. Her clothes tightened to her new form, and then burst at the seams. There was no sentience in her eyes, merely a desire to maim. Nigel and Johnny dodged to two Garou as they crashed about the office. They crammed themselves into a corner.
"So, how ‘bout them Yankees?" Nigel asked as Amelia was tossed around the room.
Johnny ducked a flying lamp, "I think they’re having a good season."
"You think we should stop them?" Nigel asked as he sidestepped a sliding chair.
Johnny gave him a look.
"Well…I’m sure they’ll work it out." Nigel muttered.
"I warned her," Johnny said as he cringed at the sight of his friend being tied up like a pretzel.
"He looks like he has a bit of a temper," commented Nigel.
"That’s an understatement," Johnny replied flatly.
Within seconds the fight was over. Amelia was crunched to the floor beneath Singer’s massive bulk. She could barely move, the sounds of her panting filled the air. Singer hadn’t even broken a sweat.
"Now do you see why you need us?" he growled in her ear. "If I were the enemy you wouldn’t be alive right now. Now quit acting like a little bitch." Singer waited a moment before continuing. "Can I let go of you now without fear of you doing something stupid?"
Amelia didn’t respond.
"I can sit on you all day long, Amelia."
"Get off," she squeaked.
"You sure?" Singer asked.
She nodded her head. Singer cautiously rose to his feet. Amelia felt drained, and her physical stature reflected her state of mind as she shrank to her former self. She lay on the floor for a moment and noticed that she was naked. Amelia modestly crouched to conceal herself. Singer smoothly returned to human form. She stared in amazement as his clothes reformed seemingly from nowhere and settled on his body. Singer walked over to the fallen coat rack and grabbed a jacket. He tossed it to Amelia.
"Lesson number one, never piss off someone that you can’t defeat or outrun. Lesson number two, always bring a change of clothes." Singer looked to the young men crouched in the corner. "Clean this mess up, I have a call to make." He left the office.
"Thanks guys," Amelia snarled sarcastically.
"Hey Mel, you’re the one who challenged him, not us," Johnny shrugged.
"I didn’t challenge shit!" she replied venomously.
"Yeah," Nigel cut in as he righted a fallen chair, "you kinda did."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she said, pulling Singer’s coat closer to her body.
"He didn’t give you permission to leave," Johnny said. "He’s a real stickler for good manners."
"Like I owe him some sort of automatic respect," she retorted. "Respect is earned."
"He’s your elder." Johnny commented.
"He’s a fuck." Amelia said quietly.
"And you’re a bitch," Nigel interrupted, "so you ought to get along famously."
"Whose side are you on?" She questioned.
"Yours, of course," Nigel replied, "But damn, Mel, you just don’t piss off someone who is bigger, stronger, and a potential ally."
Amelia fumed as the other two cleaned up the office. "Maybe I don’t need allies like that. Maybe I don’t need you guys either."
"That’s bullshit, Mel!" Johnny exclaimed.
"No, this," she said gesturing to her disheveled state, "is bullshit." Amelia picked through her ruined clothes and found a few bills in a pocket. "I am so out of here."
"You can’t leave," Nigel said trying to sound reasonable, "Singer is out front, and he won’t let you."
Amelia walked over to a window and unlocked it. "Who said I was going to use the front door?"
Nigel and Johnny gave each other a look. They could tell that she had been pushed too far. "Look Amelia," Johnny started, "you don’t have hardly any clothes on. We are in a rather unfriendly area of town, and when Singer figures out that you took a hike, he is going to hunt you down and beat the piss out of you."
"Like he hasn’t done that already," she mumbled.
"Done what?" A voice asked from the doorway. The trio saw that Singer had returned. Amelia’s hand jerked away from the window. "No," Singer commented, "go ahead and crack it open. It’s a little stuffy in here."
Johnny nodded at Singer’s attempt to let Amelia save face. Amelia pushed the window open; her face was still contorted in anger. Singer picked his chair up from the floor and sat in it. "Let’s talk, shall we?" he said and gestured for the others to sit.
"I prefer to stand." Amelia said as she tried to muster some dignity.
Singer took a deep breath. "Alright," he sighed. ‘Damn she is stubborn,’ he thought to himself. ‘Is she pushing my buttons on purpose?’ He looked her square in the eye. She avoided his gaze. ‘No, it all comes from not understanding who is the boss here.’ Singer sighed again. The others waited anxiously to see if he was going to lose his temper a second time. ‘Obviously she hasn’t had any contact with our society, so of course she doesn’t know how to act.’
"I’m going to teach you something," he said aloud. Singer tried not to let his irritation creep into his voice. "I’m going to help you understand why unity is so important to us." He saw that Amelia continued to stare out the window. He shook his head again, but a small smirk crossed his features. "We stick together, because it keeps us alive. But we also stick together because it is in our nature to do so. If you think that isn’t true, go ask Morgan how he feels these days."
"I know how he feels," Amelia replied quietly.
"Right, so it is important that he be found and cared for." Singer replied.
"If it was so important, why didn’t you look for him earlier?" She accused.
Singer frowned, "We thought that he had fallen to the other side."
"Other side of what?"
"To evil, Mel," Johnny said. "Some of us turn away from the Mother. When that happens they become an enemy, similar to the ones that you saw in your dream."
Amelia winced. "So, you automatically assumed that he had switched sides?"
"Morgan disappeared, there was no body left behind. Generally that means someone was captured by the enemy." Singer paused, "And yes, based on what I knew of him, I assumed that he had changed allegiances."
"Why?" Amelia’s face scrunched in confusion.
"Because," Singer started, "he was a prideful, arrogant, self-important wolf who thought that he was so great that he didn’t need the rest of the Nation to help him." He stared at Amelia for a moment, and then gave a glance at the window. "Those are the types that we usually lose to the enemy."
Amelia pretended not to understand the correlation that Singer had laid out for her.
"So, you’re going to go find Morgan?" Amelia asked.
"No," he replied.
"No?"
"You are," he said with a grin.
"Me?!"
"And your friends," Singer replied.
"But he’s your problem," Amelia pointed out.
Singer leaned close to her, "He is the problem of every wolf. You included." Amelia resisted the urge to shy away from him. Singer smirked again, ‘Damn, she’s stubborn,’ he thought. "And you," he pointed at her chest, "have a lot of proving to do."
"I don’t have to prove anything to anyone."
"I bet Morgan said that once upon a time too," Singer commented. He let it sink in for a moment before he continued. "You will go forth and find Morgan Falconhand, member of the fallen Mother’s Vengeance. I, Singer-of-Night songs, as your elder and judge in this matter command you to do so, that the rest of the Garou Nation might hear of your deeds and see you as a faithful and loyal servant to Mother Gaia." Singer finished the statement with his arms in the air. Amelia raised an eyebrow at the sudden pomp and circumstance. Singer looked back to her, "This is your chance, pup. A chance to make a pack and a name for yourself. More importantly, it’s your chance to prove to the Mother that you are worthy of the gift that she has bestowed upon you."
"I didn’t ask for this," Amelia mumbled quietly.
"None of us do, but Gaia only gives this gift to those who are most worthy of possessing it," Singer commented, letting his voice convince her in ways that his words could not. He put his hands on Amelia’s shoulders, "Gaia picked you for this task, Amelia," he said gravely. "Don’t let her down."
Amelia slowly nodded her head.
‘The guy is smooth,’ Nigel thought to himself as he glanced at Johnny.
"When you have recovered Morgan, bring him to me," Singer told the group. "We’ll go from there."
The trio nodded.
"Let the wisdom of the Mother guide you as Luna’s face smiles upon you," Singer entreated, as he dismissed the young Garou.
