Mohegan: Native Instincts

Chapter One

Henry could see the buck outlined in his scope, even in the darkness of the waning night. The strong antlers, the powerful legs, Henry lined up the shot. The explosion of the gunshot echoed, and a large warm hand came down onto Henry's shoulder.

"Good shot!" Henry looked up to his father, Mr. Conner, who smiled down at him. Hunting had always been something to look forward to doing with his father, but tonight had been his first time to take down a deer. "Go, on. Make sure it's down. We're right behind ya."

Henry rushed towards his kill, rifle in hand as he jumped over downed lumber and underbrush. He stopped short when he caught sight of his buck. It was in the jaws of the biggest wolf he'd ever seen. It was hunched over, its teeth clamped down over the buck's neck. The struggling deer was gasping for its last breaths as the wolf snarled at Henry's approach. The deer made a sickening gurgle as it went limp in the creature's jaws, its leg still bleeding from the bullet wound. Henry couldn't move, he just stared as the wolf braced himself on two legs, his arms holding the carcass.

The wolf's face was marred from battle, his ears torn, but the eyes... they were entrancing. As the wolf stood, Henry guessed he must have been at least eight feet tall, with the thickest muscles he'd ever seen. Fur draped down his body, but it was thickest around his neck, and like a mane it flowed down his back. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat as he took in the hard abs and chest only lightly scattered with thicker patches of fur. The creature's black skin and fur made him seem invisible in the dark woods. The wolf huffed and a large tail flicked behind him. He cocked his head at Henry, his eyes narrowing.

Henry licked his lips, trying again to swallow down his fear. Henry turned his head as he heard the padding of large feet and the growl of another creature to his right. He spun around just in time to see another wolf creature; it was tan and much smaller than the other one. It lay low to the ground as if ready to pounce on him. Henry put his arms up trying to shield himself as the wolf jumped towards him.

Two shots rang out, blood splattering on the ground as the wolf yelped out. Mr. Conner wrapped his arms around his teenage son, "Henry! Are you alright?!"

Henry looked back to the one with the scarred face, but it was gone. In the distance Henry could make out a brief flash of golden eyes, but they were soon gone. Henry heard some rustling in the bushes and clutched onto his father, afraid the tan wolf would attack them both. He felt silly for being so scared, but he took comfort in his father's returning squeeze.

"What the fuck was that, Rodge?" James, the town barber. He was a nervous sort of fellow and had always been a bit on edge. He jumped, jerking his head around, making sure there weren't more of the creatures.

Henry's father, Rodger Conner, turned to James shaking his head, "Fuck if I know, ain't nobody gonna believe a story about some damned... wolf-man."

"There was that movie that came out, ya know, with Lon Chaney... maybe... maybe it was some sort of prank?" James babbled, looking even more worried.

Henry let go of his father, brushing himself off and looking at the other two men in their hunting party. Doc Peters and Billy seemed shaken up as well, but as usual Billy was the most composed. Mr. Conner bent down to touch the small pool of blood on the ground, "Whatever it was, I got the sonava-bitch."

Henry looked out into the dark woods, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed. Was the black wolf trying to distract him? Was the tan wolf going to kill him?

"Henry, get over here!"

Henry shook himself out of his thoughts and rushed over to his father, looking at the trail the blood had created.

Henry squatted next to Doc Peters. The town physician leaned over, picking up a piece of gore, "See this piece here?" He held up a furry chunk of flesh. "At least got one shot in the leg. We can still track this... thing down, see what this beast really is."

The blood trailed on for near a mile, the thick puddles becoming more and more frequent. Doc Peters was amazed at the amount of blood. "There must have been eight pints of blood by now... no one could have staggered away this far."

As they continued further the smell only became worse. Henry put his hand on his nose and mouth, fighting the urge to vomit.

Small rays of light were beginning to peak over the horizon, making the hike through the forest floor easier for the hunting group. Henry could hear faint whimpers ahead of them, and as they grew louder he set eyes on a gray wolf-man.

The hairy man-like creature cried out as he dug his hand into his leg, trying to dig out the .308 bullet. Blood ran freely from the wound, the hair receding from the leg. The creature laid back on the ground, his bones crunching and shifting beneath him. In blind fury it tore at its chest, pulling off a large swath of its pelt. Henry couldn't understand why the creature kept pulling at its flesh until he saw the bloody human chest it was revealing. After feeling his own fleshy skin, it seemed to settle, fur receding into tan skin.

The man's arms and legs were still bestial, and he dug them deeply into the ground as pain wracked his body. The cries of pain were human, tears coming down his face as one hand touched his abdomen. Now that the fur was gone, Henry could easily see that not only did the man get shot in the leg, but there was a shotgun wound rending the flesh from stomach to groin by the blast of the shotgun.

James braved getting closer to the man, turning him over with his foot. He jerked back as he saw the creature in the light; it was a red skin, "It's-It's!!"

Rodger looked on with disgust, covering the prone man with his rifle, "It's an injun. I think...I think it's Joe, my farmhand."

Henry looked down at the man, "Jehuey..." The man had worked on the farm for nearly ten years, he was no stranger to the Conners. Jehuey had been the one to introduce Henry to Jake, his best friend, and now the man lay in a pool of his own blood, his fingers bent unnaturally into claws.

Billy, who hadn't said much the whole time finally spoke up, "He's still movin'."

Doc Peters pushed past James and Rodger, putting his hands on the abdominal wound. "Boy, what in tarnation are ya doin' out here?! What kind of—" The Doc looked into the natives' face, "What are you?"

Henry jumped in putting his own hands on Jehuey's leg, feeling the large muscles shift and move under his hands.

The native coughed loudly and Henry could see his canine teeth were long, making his whole mouth protrude. When he spoke it sounded like he had water in his lungs, "White man's reign will fall...get...our...land back."

Rodger pointed his gun right at Jehuey's face, "You sonava-bitch! What are you?! A Demon?!" To that the native shifted his face, his nose becoming thick and elongated with his mouth. He snapped towards Rodger's leg.

"Dear God!" Rodger jumped back, his rifle shaking in his hand.

"White man's God won't save you from the Lycanthrope." Jehuey swallowed once then fell back his body returning to that of a Cherokee man. Henry shook Jehuey, trying to keep the man with the living, but he was gone.

"What the hell was he talking about?!" James yelled, his hand on his head, coming down to rub the back of his neck.

Billy looked up to see the light peaking into the dark forest, "Sun's coming up. Think they're still out there?"

Doc Peters seemed to shake as he stepped away from the body. "Rodge... what... what do we do?"

Everyone looked to Mr. Conner, expecting him to have all the answers. It had always been this way. Henry knew that whatever the situation, his father always had a plan. When Henry had gotten bit by a rattlesnake, his father knew just what to do to save him. When Billy had busted his leg in a fall, Rodger was there to get him back to town. But how could his father have any answers now?

Rodger Conner was God-fearing, a husband, a father, a soldier, and a farmer. He was someone the town of Elmridge depended on. He could tell you when rain was coming near to the minute, he could cite a verse from any part of the Bible, New and Old, but for this problem he had no grand speech, nor sermon he could pull. There was nothing he could say to ease the minds of his friends, nor to give strength to his terrified son. For a man whose leadership came naturally, the only thing Rodger Conner could do was to give orders.

"Go to your families, keep your wives safe. We'll talk about this once we've had a day to think on it. I don't want none of ya to start stirring things that ought not to be stirred. Ya hear Henry? Don't say a word. Not to no one."

When Henry got home, he went straight to bed. Usually he was able to stay awake after an early morning hunt, but after what he'd seen Henry felt exhausted. His thoughts kept him awake as the morning sun rose, making the fields outside his window glow orange. It was the big one's eyes that were getting to him; they were burned into his head. Every time he closed his eyes they stared at him, golden orbs with black slits. He had just stood there, growling at Henry, but the boy had seen no intent to carry through with the threat. Henry knew it was a foolish notion to believe the beast was anything but a bloodthirsty monster, but Henry just knew there was something more to him. He'd been burned more times then he'd like to admit from petting what he shouldn't. His first dog Shamus bit him when he was four for getting between the dog and his meal.

When Rodger Conner saw the old Sheppard dog snap Henry's hand, the man nearly beat the dog to death. Rodger wasn't gonna let nothing ever hurt his only son, but Henry had calmed his Dad's fury and saved the dog. That was one of the few times Henry had cried, desperately for the dog's life, and it near broke his father's heart. The way Rodger Conner's looked at Henry that day, was a look Henry never wanted to see again. He knew his father would someday see Henry as he truly was...a sissy, a girl, a low down yellow-belly that wasn't worth spittin' on.

All Henry could think about the next day at school was of going up to the reservation. It was a small piece of land, maybe all of ten miles that was left for the Indian people by McNeil O'Conner, Henry's great-grandfather. The man had taken great pains and much scrutiny in giving part of the Conner's farming land to the people the law had forgotten about, but the treaty stayed and the land was forever owned by the redskins. The road to the reservation was an easy trek for Henry, only a two mile walk from the ranch.

Henry had to go and see Jake; he'd be able to tell him if Jehuey was really dead, or if it all had been a long terrifying dream. When school let out, Henry rushed out as fast as he could towards the reservation. As he stepped onto reservation soil he got dirtier looks than was usual, making Henry wonder if it had been right of him to come over at all. Henry was no stranger; he'd been exploring the reservation land since he was waist high. It was barely two miles between his ranch and his best friend's house, making it an easy trek for the athletic boy. Still, there was no getting around he was one of the whitest people to ever walk on reservation land.

Jake was already on his porch when Henry approached, motioning the white boy over to him. Henry jogged up the steps and Jake pushed him inside, "Jake what's—"

Jake put his hand over Henry's mouth and shushed him, looking over to the kitchen area to see if his parents had heard Henry come in. They were still talking to someone out on the back patio, a hulk of a man was sitting in a chair that could barely contain him, but before he could hear anything they might be talking about Jake threw Henry into his room. "Picked the worst day to come Henry! Chief is on the war path, says the white man murdered Jehuey out in the woods."

Henry bit his lip. "Why does he think that?"

Jake looked at Henry his face showing concentrated confusion and anger. "Who else would kill a 'redskin'? We have far too many problems to be killing our own."

Henry swallowed. "What are they gonna do?"

Jake laid back in his bed, "Not much we can do. It ain't like we can go to Sheriff Johnson and get it investigated. It happened outside of reservation land, so our laws can't reach it. It's like a pot of boiling water here; you can only keep the lid on so long. I think you should go home, Henry, you might get hurt staying here too long."

Henry shook his head, "What if...what if it was self defense? Like Jehuey was trying to—">

Jake sat up and glared at Henry, "What?! Were you there?! How would you know? Henry you act like your our friend, but you're just like your Dad!"

Henry frowned and came closer to Jake, putting his finger in his face, "Don't talk bad about my pa just because—!" Henry stopped himself.

Jake took a breath and huffed it out, "I know, I know. We shouldn't be fighting each other. You're my best friend, Henry and the only one I could trust about my ... problem."

"We're soul brothers..." He sat next to Jake, putting an arm around his shoulder. "You know I'd never say nothing, even if yous and me was feudin'."

Jake smiled and leaned into Henry, "Yeah... me too brother, me too..." He shook his head and got up off the bed. "Still, you should get out of here, before someone tells the chief you're on the reservation."

Henry nodded. "When can I see you again?"

"Give it a few days, I'll find you." They hugged and Henry left the safety of Jake's room to go home. When crossing the house to sneak back out, Henry noticed the family was gone, along with the big man. Henry walked out of the trailer, seeing a large truck rumble away and Jake's family waving at him from the driveway.

The next few days went by uneventfully; Henry spent most of his time at school hearing his teacher drone on and on about the Louisiana Purchase. He rolled his eyes as his teacher went on about the fight the Indians had put up and why even today we must not agitate them. Henry hated the way things were, he couldn't understand why now, in 1955, people still couldn't forgive what had happened over a hundred years ago. He tucked his copy of And Still the Waters Run: The Betrayal of the Five Civilized Tribes back under his desk, knowing full well it had been banned from class.

Mr. Conner had forbade Henry from going on the reservation, not even to attend Jehuey's funeral. The only things that kept Henry's interest were the meetings his father would have with his hunting group. Usually Rodger Conner would have his friends over, drinking, gambling, talking about women, all of this of course was done out in the barn, always out of the main house. Henry knew they were gonna talk about the creatures they'd seen in the forests, but every time he asked to join, his father gave him a very stern look. "Now, Son. Ain't no place for a boy like you to get mucked up in this."

It irritated Henry to be seen as a child still; he was sixteen. How old would he have to be to get the respect he wanted from his father? He'd killed himself a buck, shot a coyote that was eating up the herd, even kissed a girl at the county fair last year! Still red and fuming he decided tonight he'd see what it was they were talking about, whether or not his pa wanted him to.

Doc Peters was stoking the fire in the barn, just a small one that glowed at the men's feet. It sat in a basin, heating the hunters' hands in the cool night. Henry watched from a broken window pane, sitting on a barrel of whiskey his pa had imported from Tennessee. The glass was dirty and full of webs, making it a perfect place to sit and hear without being noticed.

"I says they werewolves. I've been looking up afflictions that cause all them hairs to grow. Ain't nothing but witchery!" Doc Peters sniffed, turning to James. The Doc's cigar burned as he took another long drag.

"If dey's werewolves why was they out with only half the damn moon out?" James looked to Rodger Conner, still fidgeting. "Ain't they gotta come out when it full?"

Henry's father smoked his pipe and leaned back in his chair, taking everything in. "I reckon... it's one of them hocus pocus spells they do on their reservation. We've been lenient, letting their sins be, stead of bring them to the righteousness of the Lord."

"Amen," the men all said in unison.

Billy bit his lip, then said his piece. "If they are werewolves, or wolf-man, or even demons... How do we kill them? Near as I can say the only way we got the injun before was cause of dawn approachin'. I reckon that he was only vulnerable due to the sun comin, on account of his face didn't near enough become what it was when we's seen 'em as wolf-man."

Doc Peters nodded, "Rodge, how we gonna know which injuns to shoot by day? It ain't like Joe looked like Joe!"

In a grunt of disdain James interjected, "I say we just shoot 'em all. Them no good injuns been sittin on the good land for near fitty years now. We ought to run 'em out and claim what's ours." James took another deep swig from his flask.

"Now, now... let's not be feuding with 'em just yet. What about the women and children? Who knows if this curse is on them too. My son knows a boy named Jake over there, bit of a runt, but he can cite a verse near as well as I can." Rodger's voiced calmed the group, and calmed Henry's mind as well. "Billy why don't you research them critters for now. Doc Peters can tell us if there's a cure to these beasts. The reservation's been too hot to go on after Joe's death, but maybe I can get some information out of my men who've worked with Joe. See if there are any groups he was in."

The men turned to bantering about their wives, relaxing in to the more common conversations, and Henry went back to the main house. He took out his lunar calendar—a necessity to any farmer—and marked the day of the full moon. It would be a week and a half till the orb in the sky would be flashing its bright, full face, and Henry knew he would see the creature again. Though it scared him to think too much about it, there was an excitement for adventure to see the fearsome beast.

Even now he thought about the beast, tall and filled out, his pectoral muscles huge, his abs thick and defined. Henry splashed water on his face; it wouldn't do to have thoughts like that. He'd done well enough keeping them under control so far, having been able to control himself working around shirtless men in the fields. Thinking about a damn wolf like that was gonna get him into more trouble than it was worth.

*~*~*

It was finally the weekend, and without school the only thing distracting Henry from missing his soul brother, was Amilee—and even she began to be a nuisance. Amilee was as close to a girlfriend as Henry could get. She was a fourth Mexican, with long black hair and big brown eyes. Her skin was light, but she could never pass as a white girl. She sat next to him in church, stealing glances at him as she prayed. It was hard for Henry this Sunday; he looked up when his father took his turn to preach and his stomach turned at the words. His father spoke of the demons in those less fortunate, how those afflicted with color had the devil inside them. Henry wondered what his father would say about his affliction... he could never let his father know.

After church, Henry said goodbye to Amilee, apologizing to her about his father's words.

Jake punched Henry in the shoulder, "You didn't apologize to me."

Henry hung his head, as Amilee simply smiled. "It's alright, Henry. Your father's words weren't wrong, it's just hard to hear at times." She looked at the ground. "Well, I should get back to my parents, see ya around."

Jake sighed, walking with Henry back to the farm. "You like her?"

"Yeah, I like her well enough." Henry sighed, but didn't say much else.

Once back at the farm, Henry and Jake walked into the main house. Jake bowed low to Mrs. Conner and took his hat off, hanging it on a peg. Mrs. Conner gave him a fleeting glance, a curt nod and then she continued on with her knitting. "I'll send Debbie up with some tea," she said, not even looking up as Henry and Jake walked passed.

Henry took Jake to his room. "So where have you been? What's happened on the reservation? I thought you said it would be a couple days, not almost a week! If you hadn't gone to church, would you even be here?"

Jake looked a bit upset, and he paced around the room until Debbie came in with the tray. She glanced over at Jake, giving him a small glare before leaving. Debbie and Jake had never gotten along, though they'd known each other for years. Henry followed her and locked his door behind the woman as she went. Jake was quiet, which was strange for the chatterbox that he usually was, but Henry knew something was drastically wrong when Jake flopped down on the bed, putting Henry's pillow over his face.

Henry sat next to him, rolling his eyes and taking the pillow off Jake. "What?"

Jake sat up, "I trust you Henry... I really do... but... my Mom says we can't see each other anymore. She says it makes it hard on the reservation. It's not just me, all the people under the chief's rule are supposed to stop all ties with Elmridge. What am I gonna do now?"

Henry smiled, "Is that it? Jake you know I'll bust you out of anywhere! " He laughed, rubbing Jake's shoulder. "Listen we've been through too much to just give up. So what if your Mom locks you up?"

Jake smirked, but shook his head. "No... I really need you to know...everything." Jake got up and reached behind him. "I... I bought this...just in case you felt the need...the need to..." Jake brought out a revolver, pointing the grip towards Henry. "Please take this."

"No... I'm not gonna hold a gun towards ya." Henry pushed it away.

Jake shook his head. "You might feel differently after I show you! Please!" Henry took it begrudgingly, not sure what Jake could be going on about. Jake took off his shirt, pulling it over his head. Henry was taken aback by how much muscle Jake had put on. Sure the boy had been lean before, but now he was rippling with tanned thick abs and a chiseled chest.

"Henry, I'm more of a monster then I've let on... My affliction is deeper than just in my head..." His body shook and Jake unbuttoned his pants, letting them slide down. Henry's eyebrow's shot up, not sure how he should be looking at his friend. When Jake scooted his underwear down, Henry had to look away, though he felt his head turn slightly as he peeked over at his naked friend. "Please look this way... I need you to see...I've never shared it with anyone not on the Res'."

Henry looked over once he heard something like the sound of a bone breaking. He heard Jake gasp in pain, his knees shooting back, his face elongating. His eyes turned a copper color and the whites of his eyes turned black, creeping onto his lids like deep black eyeliner. It began coating around his eyes as fur rippled out of his skin. In places the red skin seemed to crack and open up to a sea of fur that enveloped Jake's body. Before long, a strikingly large wolf sat in Henry's bedroom. It was a beautiful shade of red and tan, with specks of white on the chest and tail. The wolf was about six feet long, and stood about four feet at the shoulder. It came close to Henry, putting his head against the gun, whining softly.

Henry threw the gun on the bed and hugged the creature in front of him. "Jake, you know I'd never hurt you!" He examined the boy in front of him, fully amazed with what he saw. "Jake... you're not a monster... this is like the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Henry laughed. The wolf shook his head and buried it into Henry's hands. Henry felt the fur; it was soft, but coarse under his touch. Jake was bigger than the wolves Henry had seen on the farmland before, but he wasn't filled out. "Can you change back?"

Henry thought about the scarred wolf-man he had seen before, and though the image was beginning to fade he couldn't help but noticing Jake didn't look anything like the first one he'd seen. The scarred faced wolf had a body more like a human, differently proportioned from Jake's lean wolf form.

Jake turned away, seemingly having less pain coming out of the form than going into it. He stood naked, Henry turning around to let his friend get dressed in private. "Don't worry Jake, you know I can keep a secret. I mean before we had the same secret, but this... wow, never would have guessed my friend was a... what would you call it?" Henry turned around seeing Jake button his shirt.

"Um... Lycan." Jake said in a hushed voice. "I turn into a wolf."

"How- what- where did you-" Henry stammered trying to figure out what the best question would be to ask first. He didn't know what to do. Jake put his hand on Henry's head, patting it.

"Thanks for not shooting me." Jake said kindly.

"Not a problem, anything I can do to help... in the not killing you department." They both snickered, but Henry still needed to know. "Come on, you have to tell me everything!"

Jake looked away, seemingly having a hard time coming up with something to say. "I know you have many questions for me... and I want to tell you everything. I trust you... but there's a fear that someone might find out. Even if you don't mean to, the more people that know, the worse my chances are of staying alive in this town."

Henry bit his lip. " Alright, I'll let it slide for now. Answer me one thing though."

"Anything."

"Come back and see me. If you don't I'll just have to break into the reservation and get you into trouble. So promise that you'll be back."

Jake laughed. "Yeah, I'll make sure to see you. Let's meet by the old shack, on Wednesday, after your school lets out." Jake took his revolver, putting it back in his pants, and leaving the room. "Evening ma'am," he said to Henry's mother on the way out, she gave a polite wave, but never took her eyes off her knitting. Henry watched as Jake left, thinking of what it must have been like to turn into the wolf. One thing still bothered him though—if Jake turned into a wolf, then what the hell was the creature he saw in the woods that night?

The image of the huge Lycan with scars on his face, ears torn, and thick leg muscles stood out in his head. No way would his friend ever turn into anything that...monstrous? Magnificent? Henry blushed, maybe even a little on the handsome side? He'd have to go dunk his head in some water now.