Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

17

The gentle murmur of the rain filled the shadows in the forest. Inside the tent, behind the zipped rainfly, Tom grabbed more beer for them and crawled back in on his hands and knees to lay back on his sleeping bag, his backpack as a pillow. Alex lowered the LED glow and sat on her bag, legs crossed.

Tom knew he had to explain himself. And he did, by his own will, as soon as Alex mentioned the alpha. She kept quiet, lost in Tom's story, that started twenty years ago by the Skagit river, east of the North Cascades mountains, in Newhalem, where his family settled when his father got a job at the dams.

It was winter and Tom and his father were out hunting in the woods. Tom, fifteen years old then and already a skilled archer, followed a trace that led him away from his father. He came across a pack of wolves and the biggest of them attacked him.

"The bow was of no use when I failed to reject him, but I still had my knife. I don't remember what happened after the wolf jumped on me. My father found me entangled with it, my knife sunk in its chest and its fangs sunk in my arm."

Tom was unconscious, covered in blood, both his and the wolf's. The pack was already a couple of miles away. He spent the next year in Seattle with his mother, going through many surgeries and therapies to save his arm.

"Maybe it was the meds, but I didn't notice anything unusual while we were in the city. But as soon as I was discharged and we moved back to Newhalem, I realized that the wolf had left me more than scars."

Alex frowned, leaning forward. "What d'you mean?"

"My senses were keener. I had strange dreams, and I grew completely reckless."

Tom's father noticed those changes too, and they became evident when they went hunting again. Tom was swift and stealth as never before. He tracked their prey better than a hound and he was deathly effective to take them down, be it with bow or knife.

"My father worried about my attitude, saying it wasn't just my teen blood pushing me to try my limits. In the end, he took me to see a Skagit Elder who lived by the Gorge Lake—well, he still lives there nowadays."

The Elder needed but a look at Tom's awful scars.

"That wolf was no wolf," he said to Tom and his father. "It was ridden by a creature we call garthling. When you fought with it, your blood mixed with the wolf's—and the garthling's. The garthling left the wolf to die. It jumped to the new alpha and led the pack away. But now there's a bond between you and the garthling, for its blood runs in your veins, and it tasted yours."

Tom paused, as if expecting some kind of reaction from Alex. She raised a finger.

"Time out," she said. "We need a refill."

She fetched two beers and went back to her corner. She was mesmerized by Tom's story, because she'd never heard that such a bond was even possible between a human and a ghost goblin.

Tom thanked her for the beer and took a long sip. Since she kept silent, he resumed his tale.

Living in such a wild environment, the effects of that bond grew harder to hide and control. Tom was able to sense the wolves roaming in the woods and he had to fight his urge to sneak out to meet them. He was split in two inside, his human nature in constant war with that animal calling. His mother still blamed Tom shifting mood on adolescence. However, his father took him to see the Skagit Elder once more. And the Elder explained to them that the garthling wanted to ride Tom as it rode wolves, and it was taking advantage of their unwilling bond to try to lure Tom close enough to change rides. That day, the Elder's son weaved a protective tattoo with Tom's scar and suggested silver lace for protection.

Alex rolled her eyes at that bit, but didn't interrupt Tom.

He finished high school and moved to Seattle to go to college. His engineering degree allowed him to apply for a job at the dams. A few years later, when his father retired, it was their turn to move to the city. Tom got a post at the dams, declining better offers from all over the West Coast, and stayed in Newhalem, living alone in the family house by the Skagit river.

"Staying alone allowed me to have more control of the situation. The garthling was never far, lying in wait for a chance to take me over, and I didn't wanna jeopardize anybody else."

"Jeopardize?" Alex repeated, curious.

"Yeah. Just before I started college, I went with my parents to Burlington to visit my grandparents. And the whole week people in town reported animal attacks and wolves sighting along the way from Newhalem."

"Oh..."

Tom went hunting as often as he could, hoping to find the garthling to take it down and put an end to that nightmare. But it turned out to be useless. He could only kill the wolf the garthling was riding, and the garthling simply picked a new one to ride.

Visiting with his parents in Seattle, Tom met a girl and started dating her. They got married and she moved in with him to Newhalem, happy to trade the big city for that beautiful wild spot and a twenty-house town. For some time, Tom was able to forget about his secret war with the garthling and lead a normal life.

But it wouldn't last. Their son Samuel was only two the night a pack of wolves came down the mountains. The next day, Tom's wife found her child in the backyard, walking straight toward a big wolf with red eyes standing an inch away from the riverbank.

"If it can't ride you, it'll try to take your offspring," the Skagit Elder explained to a very upset Tom.

Back home, he disclosed the whole situation to his wife. She didn't believe a word about blood and goblins, but she did agree with Tom on one thing: neither her nor Samuel could stay there. She left first thing next morning with their son, convinced her husband was a dangerous nutjob. A few weeks later, Tom was handed the divorce papers. Ever since, Tom devoted every spare moment he had to hunt down the creature that had ruined his life. In vain, actually, because he still hadn't found a way to kill the garthling instead of the wolf, or at least prevent it from changing rides.