Fenrir

Fenrir  
By Russet Wolf


CHAPTER 1
Walking home: it's a concept that people in this city can't even wrap their heads around. The people in my high school can't even understand it. It's sad, really, that a bunch of kids, in the prime of their lives, can't survive without their cars. The more polite ones are amazed that I walk a whopping 1.8 miles to school every day. Two miles is how far away you have to be for the bus to pick you up. It's like we're supposed to have cars; like we're supposed to spend all that money to go a distance that is truly negligible. Less than two miles is nothing, unless you have to travel that distance before 7:39. How do I do it? I get up at six, fucking six. Because I never actually get up at six, more like six thirty, but I need the alarm to start the long, slow process of coming out of deep sleep. And I shower, then I brush my teeth while I'm in there, throw on some clothes, probably a green shirt and some jeans, that's almost my whole closet, green shirts and jeans. And then I lace up my big clonking combat boots which I have managed to destroy, despite their warriors pedigree, then on with the big, old, ratty, green, army trench coat. Then I throw on the green backpack that will mostly hold the coat while I'm in school, and then it's off to the big house.

              Yes, that's right, 1.8 miles, mostly uphill, to the greatest human warehousing system devised since the concentration camps. Not  that I have anything against schools, it's just that they ARE warehouses, they keep us out of trouble till we're 18, by that time we should be thoroughly programed not to cause trouble. But I'm rambling, we need to get back to what's happening now. Me, walking home, sans coat because it was supposed to be warm today. Not that I watch the news. Forecasting is a bunch of bullshit. It is literally impossible to predict the weather. That's why I just look up, smell the air, feel the breeze, and make my own guess. But then again, while I knew it was gonna be hot, it's still August, the end of summer and all. I prayed that I would be wrong and nearly freeze my balls off. I love cold weather, you sun worshippers can go take a flying leap. I love clouds, I love rain, I love sleet, and snow, and hail. I love thunder, and lightning, and wind. I love it when the gutters overflow with rivers of rainwater that seem to signify the apocalypse, noah get your ark the end-times are upon us.

I wonder when global warming is gonna fix all that?

            But once again I'm off track, the point is it's not hot. It still feels like the summer months, just... cold. There are clouds, no sun is getting through. The wind howls, and I know it's going to pick up. It feels like a tornado's coming. And here I am, slogging my way back to the apartment complex where I live, wishing I had my trusty trench coat. I mean, it's just wind, but it's fast and it's cold, and it feels like I'm close to lift off. And for those of you who don't know, an army trench is just about one of the most versatile coats you will ever wear. It does everything, it's light, it's tough, it sheds water, when you button it up, it's warm. When it gets really cold, you can button it up all the way, tighten the belt and put newspaper in it for insulation (I've never been that desperate, but in a pinch, it's there). When it gets warmer, you can undo it all the way, and let it fly free like a cape. Plus it has huge pockets.

            And right now I really need that coat. I've never been this cold in my life, and trust me, that is a goal I actually aspire to. I would do nearly anything to get warm about now,"God fucking damn it's cold". I should also mention I have a tendency to swear, especially when no one's around."When I get my coat, I am walking all over this town. I have never fucking seen it this windy. I gotta stop swearing, and talking to myself, people will start thinking I'm crazy. Maybe I am, that, or I'm the only sane person here, good thing no one's here". I cross an intersection and then I say it,"man, I'll take any kind of coat now, just so long as it's warm".
I hear a clink.

            Like the sound of a big coin hitting pavement behind me. I turn to look, and I see it. A huge damn coin on the ground behind me. I don't mean like joke huge of course, I mean that it's as big as a half dollar, which they stopped making a long time ago. But this thing isn't silver, it looks bronze. And it doesn't have JFK on it, it's a wolf. I don't really think about where it came from, I just want it. I pick it up and throw it in my pocket, I don't really care if it's anyone else's. No one's around, so if they lost it, it was a while ago, and they probably think it's gone anyway so they won't look for it. So, finders keepers, losers can go get fucked cause it's mine now.

             The funny part is, that when I touch it, I feel a little warmer. So for the rest of the way home, I rub it, just rub it, and I feel warmer. I wonder if I should thank some god or something. Then I realize I probably just feel warmer because the coin is taking my mind off the cold. No, I really feel warmer, weird. When I finally make it through the door to the apartment I know I gotta see the coin up close. I take my back pack off, haul the coin out, and get a close look. It's definitely bronze, not that I hadn't already gathered that, I'd been feeling it for the past five minutes. The wolves were interesting, on one side there was just a normal wolf. Staring at you. Great craftsmanship, really lifelike, but the other side was something else. The other side was a wolfman, and not a bad rendition either, lifelike, really lifelike. I half expected one of them to move, but neither did, they just sat there, being pretty.

             Now I'm not dense, I know something funny is going on, and I've got a bad feeling I know what. The coin was new, but it felt weird, like something you'd read about, like a werewolf story. So, I put the coin in my palm and waited for it to make the first move. For a moment, I thought that it could just be some novelty coin. Then I thought it might be a bad idea to just sit there with it, staring. So, I tried to put it down, but it was too late for that. The coin was stuck to my hand. Now, it's hard to panic me, really hard, I'm just lazy like that. So I sit there trying to budge it, I wave my hand around, I pick at it, I get my teeth around it and try to chew it off, no go. Then I realize that the coin is getting lighter, and thinner. "Oh, it's just melting into my hand", I was relieved for a moment, I had thought it was going to do something weird."IT'S MELTING INTO ME", I screamed at the top of my lungs, I'm just a drama queen like that. I do the obligatory panic dance, no one's there to witness it, but I'm still freaking out. I run around flailing into walls and screaming. The coin is almost all the way in my hand, you can barely see it anymore. Eventually I fall down and  pass out. It was a bad day to say the least. Or was it a good day? Depends on when you ask me. Right now, it's bad.