Layers Chapter 10

What does one wear when one knows one is going to transform into a massive werewolf killing machine later in the evening?  And, yes, that works as both a “werewolf that is a killing machine” and a “werewolf-killing machine” except not a machine, per se.  I don’t need Thomas suddenly appearing in a puff of disgusting, putrid stench to tell me that “Surprise!  You were a robot all along!  Lolz!”  I can handle a lot of stuff but I think that would be my breaking point.  So, what does a young sexy werewolf lady wear?  Something you don’t particularly care about? …

Birthday

“I shouldn’t be here.” I tell myself. Standing outside the bar, garish neon lights blinking slowly in my face, I shiver and almost leave. It’s loud inside – people laughing and a blare of music trying to drown everyone out. I’m standing about 15 feet away by a dead lamp post. Watching. A somewhat steady stream of people in and out, various states of dress. Various types. Nice, casual, punk, grimy – all kinds.

I just turned 21. I’m going. Fuck my parents. Fuck the Church and fuck everyone else. All I’ve known my entire life is what I shouldn’t do.…

Instincts

Greg pushed the button on the treadmill to make it speed up slightly.  He could feel the ache starting in the right side of his stomach but he felt restless.  Around him were people in various levels of fitness running, jogging or walking on the other treadmills.  The gym was fairly packed for a Saturday evening but he’d been lucky enough to find an empty spot.  Usually he skipped exercising on the weekends but he woke feeling out-of-sorts and decided to try the gym rather than pace his small apartment.

 

An attractive lady stole a glance at him, smiling as she did. …

Unchained [The Change Universe # 2]

PROLOGUE

 

In her dreams, the man has no face.

 

The dark, dirty room shifts and vibrates as if an earthquake is trying to open the ground under them.  Only the man is clear and unmoving.  Black lines and diagrams stand out on his body, centering around his navel and running to his feet, hands and head.  Where his face should be is a blank expanse of skin, slightly bulging as if covering his real face.  The man stands on the bare ground and thick, black smoke curls around his toes to waft lazily in the air.  Even in her dream, the smell makes her gag. …