Episode Six Hunger

A lex

I'm watching a black wolf-man in our bathroom mirror. He's wearing the tattered remains of my best gray suit as he tears raw meat off a T-Bone steak with a hand that looks like something out of a horror movie.

I should be terrified. Instead, I'm fascinated. I know I'm not hallucinating, but believing this is all some figment of my imagination is far preferable to believing it's true.

I've eaten the entire steak, yet I'm still starving for meat. Despite the animalistic thoughts swirling through my head, my protective instincts come to the fore when I hear the bellow outside in the street.

"Shan?" I call, then I repeat it, not because I don't think she heard me, but because I need to hear my voice speak English. It reminds me I'm more than an animal wolfing down raw meat.

I'm eloquent, known in the legal community for my concise lines of questioning and my cogent closing arguments. Just now, I was barely able to say my wife's name correctly, although I'd like to see someone do better with this mouth full of fucking fangs.

I get distracted, fascinated by my wolfish self in the mirror. I take inventory of my furred body, fully animalistic ears, and blue eyes that are rounder than when I went off to work this morning.

It's the look in my eyes, though, as if I could happily tear someone apart with my fangs and claws, that tells me my thoughts aren't fully human anymore. With effort, I tap into my civilized brain and remember I'm still Shanna's husband.

"Get the gun." My words are a garble, but I know Chass understood me because he hurries to Ro's side of the bed.

Our favorite policeman's been lying in that exact same position since I walked in. How is he sleeping through all this? I've been growling, snarling, and those loud animal noises drifting in from the street could wake the dead.

Standing in the doorway between the bathroom and our bedroom, I lick the grease off my furry mouth as I watch Chass bend to grab Ro's sidearm from the holster he must have dropped on the floor when he fell into bed.

"Shan!" Chass calls, his eyes rounded, terrified. He takes a step back, lifting his arm to cover his face as if he could protect himself from what he sees. "SHAN! Come quick!"

She hurries to his side from the kitchen, tossing me another steak on the run. This one is frozen, which doesn't deter me for a second. Just a new flavor of popsicle—beef.

"Shit," she says. "Shit, shit, shit."

She bursts into tears, which somehow rips at my heart. She didn't even cry when she saw I'd turned into the wolfman. What on God's Earth has happened to Roman?

"Ro?" I ask around a mouthful of frozen steak.

Chass flips Roman from his side onto his back. He's mostly covered by the bedclothes, but enough is exposed for me to make sense of what I'm seeing.

I turned into a wolf. Our resident policeman, naked under the covers, turned into a furry, brown rabbit. He even has cute little whiskers and a small twitching nose.

"Ro, wake up," Chass says, his voice commanding and panicked at the same time.

When Ro's lids pop open, he may not know what's happened, but the terror on Shan and Chass' faces must give him a clue. He hasn't even glanced my way yet. That will push him even deeper into terror.

Suddenly, something flies through my body, like a thousand switches being flipped from off to on. I'm affected on a cellular level. I let what's left of the steak-sicle fall to the floor, because I know just how I want to slake my hunger. Ro.