Hypnotic Howls

By Silver Sheep

Jackson studied the missing person poster with a frown. It had a portrait of a smiling young man his name was David. According to the poster he had gone missing two months ago. There was a lot of that going on lately a string of strange disappearances about five people so far. The media was ablaze now because a young British backpacker couple had gone missing a week ago.

This was different from the usual case of a lost tourist because a search party had found clothes and personal effects of the couple in a neat pile. The bodies still haven't been found. It was the talk of the town. At the Family Hotel where Jackson worked as a barman many of the regulars were chatting about the disappearances. The media had dubbed the disappearances the new Ivan Milat. Even Peter Van Olson from Sky News was commenting on the Katoomba murders. Well, assumed murders but you don’t let facts get in the way of a good story.

With this news Jackson felt justified with his attitude of self defence. He had to be tough working the bar to deal with the more difficult customers. He prided himself on knowing how to handle himself in a fight. He was strong from working on his passion car project his Ford XR8. He loved the vroom of the V8 power. Time spent manhandling car parts kept him in shape. He considered himself a hoon or motoring enthusiast in a more polite way of saying.

Yes, Jackson knew how to handle himself alright no wanna be Ivan Milat would take him down. If he ran into trouble he always had his pocket knife on him. It was illegal to carry a pocket knife in New South Wales but let's just say hoons and law enforcement didn’t see eye to eye on many things including the speed limit. That brings us back to why Jackson wasn’t behind the wheel. A little disagreement between what the speed limit should be. Maybe not the best idea to argue with the police on the side of the road but he had enough of their shit. Until his court date he was reduced to walking.

It was late at night when he was at his girlfriend's place where he ran out of smokes. The craving for nicotine sent him walking to the only place open at this time of night the BP service station on a curve in the Great Western Highway. Usually the Indian bloke had the night shift so he would have to pay him a visit. Jackson had been sidetracked by the missing person poster.

He turned and set back on the footpath. The usually busy highway was silent probably due to the early morning hour as he walked alone. His boots scraped along the footpath. Something wasn’t right he should have seen the flood lights of the service station by now. In fact even the streetlights of the highway. He tripped over a fallen branch stumbling as he was snapped back to reality. He looked around surprised. He was on a bush track and he had no idea where he was or how he had got there.

“Oh dear. He’s woken himself up.” said a voice sarcastically. Jackson flung himself around to the direction of the voice. His eyes widened as he let out a gasp. There standing behind him was a wolf-man standing on his hind legs. He was all white except his brilliant gold eyes and a black nose and paw pads. “Jackson…” the creature began. “How the fuck do you know my name!” Jackson interrupted. The creature continued his voice gentle now. “Jackson I was helping you. You need to calm yourself and listen to our howls.”

The human grabbed his knife from his pocket and charged at the wolf. He aimed his blade just under the creature's ribcage. His body collided with a mass of muscle and fur but not of the creature he had targeted. He had been spear tackled from his right. Sounds of the crunching underbrush echoed through the night. Jackson tumbled into bushes and the wind was knocked out of him. His adrenaline was kicking in so he quickly jumped to his feet.

He still had his knife and brought it in front of him in a defensive stance. Jackson got a look at the new target a wolf man who was completely black. The black furred wolf let out a inhuman snarl and flashed it’s white teeth complete with glistening canines. Jackson flinched as he swept his eyes around looking for the white wolf.

The white wolf let out a laugh and said “Greenpaw look at this little whelp who thinks he can fight us.” Greenpaw  spat “An omega who thinks he’s alpha.” Jackson cut his knife through the air in an effort to intimidate the wolves. “Ohh, someone wants to wrestle. I’ll just have to convince you to drop the knife.” said the white wolf. The human just tightened his grip on his knife as his expression hardened.

The white wolf raised his head up and let out a powerful howl. The sound hit Jackson and sent him reeling. A buzzing welled up in the base of his skull. He clutched his head with both hands one still holding onto the knife. Another howl came from the white wolf. Jackson stumbled backwards as he closed his eyes he couldn’t think with all this buzzing. Then suddenly a thought came to him. He had to throw away his knife in order to get rid of the noise in his skull. So that’s what he did he tossed the knife far away from himself. It landed in the underbrush. It was lost in the darkness.

Jackson panted in breath the buzzing had stopped. Two powerful arms grabbed the front of his shirt and wrenched it down. The sound of ripping cloth tore through the night air. The front of his shirt had been ripped off exposing his chest to the air. He swung his fists wildly at the attacker hitting only air. Jackson’s eyes shot open and scanned the bush land for his target. The white wolf flexed his claw tipped hand paws and growled.

The white wolf asked “Jackson do you feel in control?” Jackson just scanned the bush land for the other wolf he spotted him further back he looked like he was staying out of it for now. “My hypnotic howls can be quite powerful. Who knows what commands they have planted in that weak omega mind of yours.” said the white wolf. “Fuck you.” Jackson replied. “On your knees whelp!” the white wolf shouted.

Jackson’s knees gave out and he fell to his knees. He let out a cry and his eyes widened. What was going on? how was this happening? The white wolf took two strides closer until he was standing over the human. The wolf growled out his question “Do you feel in control?” It was too much Jackson felt his eyes grow wet as he started crying. “Please don’t kill me. I’ll do what you want.” he pleaded with the creature.

The white wolf bent down until he was eye level with the human. “I want you to run your hands through my fur.” he said in a softer voice. Jackson was sobbing now but he obeyed the command. He slowly brought his hands up to the chest fur of the wolf. He hands were trembling the wolf took the human's hands into his paws and guided them to his fur. Jackson felt the warmth of the paw pads as they guided his hands to the wonderful soft chest fur. He felt rippling muscle under the fur. The sensation of the soft fur and feeling the strength of the creature was somehow soothing his distress.

The creature then pulled him into a warm embrace. With his exposed chest he felt the soft warm fur of the wolf-man press against his skin. It felt wondrous how such a strong creature could be so gentle. He had stopped crying now and was trying to calm himself. The white wolf pulled back and remained on his knees in front of Jackson. “Do you remember my name?” he asked.

The human looked away unsure if he should speak. “Perhaps a nice howl will refresh your memory.” said the wolf. The human flinched as the wolf howled. The sound was lovely how could he had missed it. He felt a breeze blow through his mind it was so soothing. The human gasped and locked his eyes with the wolf’s golden ones. “My name is Moonbeam but what is yours?” said Moonbeam.

What a strange question Moonbeam was just using his name before. He was… he was called. The human's eyes widened. What was his name? What has this creature done to him? He reached into his pocket for his wallet his name would be on his driver's license. He pulled out his wallet and looked at his driver’s license. No! What? The license had his photo but where his name should have been it was blank. Next he checked his bankcard the area for his name was blank too. The wolf had removed his name from reality. He had to wake up this was a dream. Just wake up!

The human jumped to his feet his wallet and cards discarded on the ground. He took off running he had to get away from them he had to resist. The wolves had taken his name. That thought sent a shiver of primal terror down his spine. There was no way this should be possible. He just had to snap himself out of it. He had to wake up from this nightmare. His boots crunched through the underbrush. He had no idea where his was going in the darkness of the bush. He just wanted to put distance between the wolves and himself.

The human ran through the bush branches snagging on his pants. The remnants of his torn shirt soon discarded as they caught on the branches. It was hard going in the dark and considering the absolute panic he found himself in. A pair of howls sounded out in the air. The human flinched. No! He had to block out those howls otherwise he was finished. He raised his hands to his ears and clamped down blocking out the hypnotic howls somewhat. He had to keep going he had to be close to town. Although he didn’t know where that was.

The wolves were toying with him he thought. It could give him a chance to escape. More howls this time he was feeling a little strange. Unknown to him tan fur had begun to sprout all over his bare chest. Holding his hands to his ears had made his pace even slower. He was in thick scrub land branches brushed over his face. Not daring to swat them away. He had to block the howls of his pack, no the wolves from his mind.

The changing man tripped over and fell flat on his face. He rolled over on the ground. He was panting out of breath from running. He pressed his hands down to the ground to push himself up. The moonlight was shining through the trees. He caught a glimpse of his hands that caused him to stop in his tracks. His hands had a growing coating of tan fur. He let out a gasp. He frantically tried rubbing the fur off but it was now part of him. He turned over his hands to look at his palms, black blotchy pads had sprung to life. They were growing out of his palms and the tops of his fingers, his nails had started to grow. The wolfish human locked his eyes shut. “It’s not real, it’s not real.” he said aloud.

His hands were real he could not deny that he could feel them change. He snapped his eyes open again. This time he looked down to his chest and saw his growing tan fur. His fur would be nice and soft like Moonbeam’s. No! He was human he couldn’t let the wolves take that from him they had already taken his name. He forced himself to stand and pressed on. “Not going to surrender.” he said loudly.

More howls and they sounded closer. He pressed his paws, no they were hands to his head covering his ears. Damn these wolves putting thoughts into his head. “Get Out!” he yelled. His face felt strange but he didn’t dare take his hands away from his ears. His ears were moving! They were shifting higher up to the top of his head. No! The wolves were molding him like clay. Their howls were changing him. How could a howl change him? How could he change? How, Howl to change? He should howl. He shook his head. No! That was the wolf's thoughts not his.

His boots were getting uncomfortable now he had to howl, he had to take them off. He kicked off one and took  off the sock too. He was greeted by the sight of his growing foot paw. Now for the other boot he reached down with his hand paws, so nice to have paws like the other wolves and freed the changing foot paw. He should let out a little howl to thank the pack for his new look. The very wolfish human tilted his head back to howl. A part of his mind screamed at him no don’t do it but a little howl wouldn't hurt, right?

He let out a howl and he felt that nagging inner voice blown away out from his chest. His howl sounded awful on account of his changing muzzle but it lifted a weight from his chest. His legs were now changing so he decided to sit for a bit. As he sat on the ground he struggled to get comfortable his pants didn’t seem to fit anymore. He let out a grunt and tore through them with his now complete wolf claws. He huffed in a breath and winced. That cloth reeked of human fear. A new nub of a tail was growing freed from it's confines.

The soon-to-be wolfie had calmed himself down his breathing settled. What had upset him? He brought a clawed finger up to his now furred temple and scratched. That’s right he was upset he had forgotten his wolf name. Why was he running around for? It would be better to wait for a bit. Maybe Moonbeam knew what his name was. What a cuddly wolf he was that Moonbeam he had a beautiful howl too.

Ears atop of the wolfies head turned to face a new sound it was two howls from the wolves, no his packmates calling out. They were calling out a name, it was his name! Ironbark! He had remembered his name it was Ironbark. Ironbark let out his own beautiful howl. Something was in the air it was wolf magic. Ironbark was almost finished his changes. Were they changes? Wasn’t he always like this? His muzzle was now fully formed he had cool blue eyes and a cold wet nose. His hind legs were in their proper configuration.

His keen hearing made the howls sound much better his pack were summoning him to return. Another howl this time the message was to calm himself. So that’s what he did he focused his wolf magic on his lungs. He breathed in the wolf magic charged air and breathed out any remnants of doubt and fear. Sitting in a comfortable position he felt the relaxation radiate from his chest slowly traveling up to his head and down to his abdomen. With the next breath he felt himself grow heavy as he breathed out. When he breathed out thoughts left his mind. He closed his eyes and slumped forward. 

Ironbark was showing submission to his pack an omega always shows submission to the pack. Submission to the pack was his place, to obey the more powerful wolves. It didn’t mean they didn’t like him, omegas were still part of the pack. It was his purpose to solve the disputes and relieve tension from his packmates. It was his purpose to submit to the hypnotic howls. Open his mind to the pack. Omegas don’t hesitate to obey his wolf brothers because they know what's best. He was free now. Free from thinking too much. Omegas have the privilege to be free from all the effort of making their own decisions. 

Most importantly omegas make the most powerful summoning howls. Humans need their help to be saved from themselves. The wolf magic will save them. An omega knows a human's name. The wolf magic whispers it to them so that only they can hear. He had to be in a deep trance to be receptive to the magic whispers. He could howl a human's name. A name has power in magic. If you know a creature's name you could bend them to the will of the pack. That was always his purpose to use his hypnotic howls to put a human into a mindless submissive state, a blank slate ready to be changed into something a little more wolfish. Something closer to perfection.

Ironbark felt himself slowly float up to consciousness again. The sound of the leaves of the trees and the smells of the Australian bush returned to his senses. He open his eyes and saw the form of Moonbeam. He briefly looked into Moonbeam’s eyes before lowering his gaze to the ground. He flattened his ears to the top of his head to show submission to his packmate. Moonbeam let out a soft growl but he gently patted the tan fur of Ironbark's head. “Welcome to the pack Ironbark” he said in a gentle voice.