Werewolves of Deadwood; Deep Reflection

“Sometimes I just feel like I am too damn old, seen so fucking much… A lot of it all over again, and again without a fucking end in sight. The same old ancient blood feuds between some of our own kind and not to mention, the blood-sucking cock-smoking vampires we all seem to share to say the least.

One thing that makes me shake my fucking head and I just can’t figure it out is over the last couple of decades, vampires and zombies have become quite popular with the humans – If they only knew, really knew, they would repent for being a bunch of idiot rat-fuckers in the first damn place.

The whole fucking lot of them from start to finish!

They make it a fucking religion or something. Sure, most of these idiot-savants believe in such things and really have no proof. Yeah, as far as vampires goes, they’re real. God knows, I certainly believe, I killed more than my share of them and there is no end in sight of me stopping.

If the humans really knew what these blood-sucking motherfuckers, these vampires are like as they worship as something god-like, they would turn and scream with their arms over their head… Like the old days…

I kind of missed the old days, the ‘good ole days’ before shit got so damned fuzzy. Fuck, how did I get so god damned old in the first fucking place?

In my long ‘unnatural’ life I both lived and loved, I have hated, I have killed for both sport, and out of necessity. I can’t even begin to tell you the “official” body count I have acquired through the god damned ages, but I can tell you it is more than the entire population of the humans residing in Deadwood, South Dakota. That mush is for god damned certain!

I just don’t know how the elders handle all this bullshit, you know with the centuries of bullshit, love gained, and love lost. It’s rather maddening to say the absolute least.

If I had to do it all again, you know being born a wolf, and in that is something I had no control of, but if I did, I wouldn’t. I mean being a human has it’s upsides. One is that you don’t live long in the tooth if you know what I mean, and of course, your young usually by default outlive you. That alone has not been the case for me. I unfortunately in some respects, outlived most of my pups, my little ones, and all. I also outlived all my siblings to include my bitch-mother and vile dad. The last two I am glad to say; I am indeed glad for it.

My pack, the Deadwood Clan, they know me simply as Gary, or ‘Big Gary.’ I am not the eldest amongst the wolves here. There are three elders that are far older than I am. But, as to my name, that isn’t my real name, my given name.

Shit, I have to stop and think about it, you know, what my real name is – Damn…

I really have to stop and think about it and as for my birthdate? Fuck me for even trying… Trying to think that is.

Double-Damn…

‘Sasha Dima Kirill’ is my name, born sometime in the late summer months in the Ural Mountains of Russia. The northern slopes along the western side of things. That much I can remember clearly enough. Of course, in my native tongue known as ‘Bashkir.’

I lived in many different places, spoke many different languages along the way, and again, seen kingdoms, governments, people, and ages come and go like the fucking wind.

I suspect it is absolutely nothing less than those like me…

Damn it to hell though, like I can even speak my mother’s language now after all these years…

I am not immortal just like you – You of course, knows this shit. I just live a really long time if I am not put to death. Of course, I fancy a god damn good scrap just like most of us – Always have.

Anyways, I was born a wolf as my father’s fathers and my mother’s mothers were. You see, I was never human and the myth about the sway of the moon and all, it’s all bullshit, and has nothing on my ass or those exactly like me.

My grandfather said that my – our kind lived in the Bashkir long before the human Novorodian Expedition around 1096. In fact, according to my Great-Great Grandfather’s telling, my kind were there several centuries before hand. In fact, our kind were “pushed” east when the first of the Russian People from what is now Sweden came and settled in what would become ‘Mother Russia.’ I suspect this is certainly true enough. I don’t talk about it and most of my kind here in Deadwood are far younger and these sorts of things are not important to them these days as they now spend a lot of time “texting” back and forth to each other like it is some sort of fucking fever.

Fuck…

As far as my family linage goes, we were in those mountains a long fucking time ago. As the years progressed, my kind ravaged the humans in the area and god damn, did we scare the fuck outta them too. Brings a smile to my old weathered face though.

I lived in what you call the Urals and in the north there until I was a young man. I think I was about twenty when I took a wife – Like kind of course.

Her name was Isabella and her hair was as black as midnight, skin as white as washed porcelain and she smelled like  the wild flowers of those mountains. I loved her, I loved her with all of my heart. She died in child-birth to my eldest son, Dominic.

Young Dominic grew to be strong and was a natural born leader, an alpha male, and of sorts. He favored his mother in so many ways. He had all of the best in her, that is until he died warring with a feuding pact.

I guess I stayed in the region a century or two and then moved to Moscow and what would later be called Saint Petersburg. It was years later while living in Saint Petersburg, I re-bonded – You call it “Marriage.” I found a beautiful female by the name of Vladlena. Oh god, was she something that knew how to keep a den warm!

Vladlena died at the hands of a vicious vampire, a ‘Upir Lichyj’ in my mother’s tongue. It was one of many attacks  of these to plague our kind and upon my village south of Saint Petersburg. Hell, that was long before anyone knew of the New World let alone America.

That was the precise moment when she died that I hated the vampires and with this, a hatred that lasts all the way to this very moment. Before that, I only heard, well, like whispers in the night, of a creature called “vampire.”

A few of us, those that were attacked and severely beaten by these motherfuckers followed them to the Ukraine, through Odessa, and we manage to exact our revenge. This didn’t bring back Vladlena, and I mean to tell you that everyone of those bitches paid for her death and the deaths of many of my new pack I was running with.

My personal quest of finding these vampires lead me to what you know of as Romania. Along there as to our horror, there were other werewolves that were enslaved to some of these stronger vampire covens long before the blood disease weakened them. These ‘Upir Lichyj’  used the werewolf to protect their own during the day, and torture our kind by night along with feeding on the humans. Yeah, I know, it’s an ancient story of some measure, a good measure of some sorry-ass shit.

Many of our kind don’t believe there was such a time that vampires lorded themselves over our kind. It didn’t happen everywhere and looking back on it, it seems far fetched but there it is.

Lemme tell you, fighting those motherfuckers was a real deadly prospect indeed. Many of us died, but in the end there, our kind were liberated, and moved on at least from Romania, the Ukraine, and what we know of the Czech Republic.

Some of us that survived moved south and some even as far as North Africa and Arabia. Not me though, I guess I liked my four seasons and the like. I left Romania, wasn’t there long. I think the Muslim horde was moving in after the fall of Constantinople and that was around 1453. A tyrant calling himself, Christopher Columbus shortly discovered the New World nine years later.

I left Eastern Europe and headed to Scandinavia when word came around of the “New World.” A lot of my kind at the time began to find their way to this new world. I didn’t, wasn’t for me at the time I guess. Sure, I would later come, but as before, I fell in love, and oh yes, just like the humans, we love, raise children, and the usual. I re-bonded a couple of times there in Norway leaving Sweden. The bitches all came and went with the blood feuds.

Yeah, the blood feuds, what a fucking waste of life. That would be something if I could change, well, it would never have happened. Just like the fucking human race, we were fighting amongst each other over the dumbest of the most trivial bullshit. Things like land and regional rights, fighting over lust, greed, and shit like that.

Hell, you get the picture.

Wounded and broken-hearted, I moved to Iceland. Then spent several long cold winters in Greenland before moving into what we know as Canada. Now, I was in the new world. Shit, when I arrived on the Atlantic Seaboard, there were no Europeans in the least. I loved the winters, nice and cold, bitter, and I loved the fucking savages that lived along there. I mean, sure a bunch of superstitious motherfuckers that enjoyed a good scrap like any other. Hell, they should have all been Werewolves.

They enjoyed telling stories about me around their campfires. They sure enjoyed trying to seek me out and trying to hunt me down. That shit was a lot of fun.

You see, the Red Man were living there, had settlements, shit like that when the Vikings came and went. Yeah, the Vikings, another group that had my affections. But the Vikings, they were long gone before I got there of course.

But man, did I love the hunt…

Now before the Europeans came, I went as far west as the Hudson Bay. Lived like a true animal without a fucking care terrorizing and scrapping all along the way. Hell man, come to think about it, I must have spent nearly a hundred or so years in my natural form!

Them were the fucking days right there!

Sometimes I would allow myself to get tracked down – Those fuckers, the Red Man, they can track but when they would come upon me, they would shit all over themselves wondering what to do next. I made a lot of their women some weeping widows.

Man, did I enjoy the game!

I want to let you know something that will come against the thinking of many here that are lead to believe. You see, many people think the Indians, or what I call as the “Red Man” are like any other human being. They spent centuries upon centuries long before the Europeans came killing off each other in fucking droves in blood feuds over the same old bullshit as everyone else did throughout the seas of time. Trust me, I know, I saw, and hell man, participated in.

In my early travels, I also never ran into a single fucking vampire. They started coming over with the Puritans and isn’t that fucking ironic?

I mean to say, these Puritans; many of these motherfuckers were vampires!

Some of our elders say that even the likes of Christopher Columbus and some of his own were the fabled ‘Day Walkers.”

I of course, never really believed that…

During the early years of me being in Canada and the New World, I found a few like me, like us. Shit, some pretended to be the Red Man themselves and been here living amongst them since the first Red Man came over. Some as early as 14,000 years ago from Siberia and all. Besides, there is no such thing as an “Indigenous Race” of humans when it comes to this shit, you know.

All the human species came originally from Africa, and to include us, with them in the beginning.

God damn, I guess it was in the mid 17th century when I lived in the Boston area back in the colonies. By the time of the 1700’s came around, there were so many vampires, a werewolf found it nearly in-fucking-possible to exist in the area. Damn, I guess I moved on into Virginia and what is known as West Virginia. I hung around with the hill folk there before the Revolutionary War.

I reckon feeding on the British and terrorizing them, something you won’t dare fucking read in any history book to say the least. We, my new pack that I was running with moved west into the Ohio Territory. Kentucky was fun fucking with the Red Man and early settlers.

Shit, before I knew it I was living all along the Rocky Mountains. Some years later, I then moved on to the Cascade Mountains of the Oregon Territory – Before it was actually a territory, sort of speak.

Found me a real bitch that ever balled for beads. Her name was “Alyen.” She was a werewolf. And for the record, I never bonded with a fucking human woman – Ever!

I mean, sure you can fuck ‘em. But as to bond?

Can you even imagine bonding with a fucking human wench?

Anyways, Alyen was one hell of a bitch. I think it would be easier for me to mate with a porcupine than her. I ended up removing her head from her shoulders when I found her fucking some settlers for a couple of blankets or something.

I left the west and went south after the budding United States bought all the Louisiana Purchase. And as my fucking luck would have it, I went to New Orleans only to find out that was infested with Vampires – Still is too!

I heard tale that a storm, you know, ‘Katrina’ came and washed a few of those fuckers, not to mention, drowned a coven or three by the way. So as for us, it was a fucking good thing in respects.

Nonetheless, I moved on, and visited much of the South. Atlanta was another vampire infested fucking place. Then I guess I lived in the Carolinas before the Civil War and found myself heading back out west.  Shit by then, most of the vampire covens thrived in the South. Almost gotten myself killed on more than one damn occasion before I wised up a bit and headed to the Montana Territory.

Somewhere along the fucking way, I went through the Dakotas and here at the Black Hills. By then the Sioux Indians killed most everyone else off. The Black Hills, all the originating Red Men were destroyed. Hell, same old shit, you know, the same old theme of shit throughout history.

Of course, the Indians would like you to fucking believe it only happened to them and shit…

I guess I then travelled through Montana and British Columbia. I had thoughts about maybe travelling up to Alaska and the Yukon.

Never did though… Least not yet.

Some years… Well, quite a few years later, I pretended to be human enough to travel with a gang lead by General Armstrong Custer into his second expedition into the Black Hills around… 1875-76 I think it were.

You see, the United States Government thought that the Black Hills was something like a wasteland and a good place to run the Indians to. Chasing the Red Man off the fucking prairies for the white farmers and settlers until some motherfucker had to find a shit-load of gold all along here.

Again, same old bullshit story…

The Black Hills were something like a reservation being set up. Never understood the bullshit politics of the thing called, “Reservations.” Anyways, with the finding of the Black Hills Gold, the United States had to reconsider their deal with the Red Men – It happened all the fucking time.

You see, the Indians around here will tell you that they got a bum deal. They indeed did, but these same motherfuckers fucked over everyone else before they got fucked over. Shit, I mean, it’s my opinion that these fuckers would have eventually killed out themselves if it were not for the Europeans coming over and giving the Red Man something to draw, unite, or whatever to focus their angst and hatred towards.

I mean that. I honestly believe that shit…

Same old story, just a different verse – Nothing more.

As for General Armstrong Custer, he got his just north, a few days ride, well a couple of hours now of a drive from here. Now I got to tell you, what I know of General Custer, well, lemme say it this way, I am glad as hell he got his.

So there was this Red Man, some holy man of the Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux called, “Sitting Bull” that avenged the Red Man against Custer and those like him. So what really happened to this, as far as I knew of him. I mean, I met him once, a good egg you know, well his own folks, his people killed him.

Now how many times you may be wondering that I seen shit like this in my life so far?

Fuck…

I can’t even begin to count…

So, I guess I settled in the Deadwood area of the Northern Black Hills sometime shortly after Custer got his and the little outlaw town began. I fit right the fuck in, after all.

There was some interesting characters that were here at the time, you know who they were. I got shit-faced one night and found the whore that called herself, “Calamity Jane” sucking my cock and cupping my fucking nuts as large as life. Now that homely bitch could smoke a cock for a sip of booze. Damn, I gave her the whole fucking bottle to wash the taste out of her mouth. I surely enjoyed fucking her. I think I fucking balled that crazy cunt a few times.

No shit!

I wonder if she ever thought she’d be sucking the end of a Werewolf’s cock?

Aw shit, many a whore and slut has all along the way. Besides, I never said I didn’t fuck a human wench, did I?

Anyways, I guess I stayed in human form for some years going by different names, moving throughout the Black Hills under different alias which we are very well accustomed to and all.

Been around like many of the others of our kind ever since…

I guess when I look back at my life as much as I can clearly remember, I guess in fact, one might say that I lived “many lives.”

Right?

Say Chris, you wanna ‘nother beer or something?”

Gary sat there cleaning his glasses before putting them back on looking at the large and powerful man on the other side entranced in his story.

“That is fucking amazing, Gary. But no. I need to head home, late as it is.” Christopher picked up his hard hat and swallowed the remaining near flat beer in his glass he has been holding since the beginning of Gary’s account of his personal history of his own life.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess every couple of hundred years I catch a drift to tell my story and shit. Thanks for listening though.” Gary smiled once more at Christopher.

“No man, fuck me. Thank you. That shit is amazing, Esse!”

Gary smiles once more, “Oh yeah, Pettimore is looking for you. Tell him, I said ‘Hi.’ Will Ya?

“Yeah man…” Christopher then quietly without another word leaves the empty bar of “The Gallows.”

 

The Legend of the Werewolf

As the author of the genuine original Douginator series of the “Werewolves of Deadwood” I occasionally get a couple of questions a week about the series and of course, “Do werewolves really exist?”

A few years ago, I was sitting in front of my television watching a History Channel documentary on the very same thing. The History Channel’s presentation was outstanding as it all began to make sense. Sure, I love the lore of the werewolf just like the next person. As it seems, the lore began during the Middle Ages, especially from 15th to 17th century.

Europe was under the dark shadow of ignorance and superstitions. Towns were underdeveloped and people lived near woods. The fear of wolves was like a nightmare. The werewolf attacks were so frequent and atrocious in nature that people even feared to travel from one place to another. It was reported that every morning, countryside people would find half-eaten human limbs scattered on their fields. However, there is much more than this as to precisely what may have started it all other than the possibilities of some serial killers afoot.

Scientific evidence and painstaking research plotted every claim of a sighting or attack as many small villages and townships began suffering these delusions of a creature, half-man, and half wolf.

During this time period and locations, there were a stretch of some damp years during this span. It is also known through modern times that the wheat fields suffer from mildew. A type of mildew and a combination with a fungus creates a powerful hallucinogenic that grows just inside and out along the stem of the plant and along the cluster of seed.

As the documentary presented it’s case with the known historical data of how the people, farmer, and town folk processed the wheat, the fungus spread unknowingly, and digestible. During these “seasons” as the records indicate, the werewolf sightings and fabled attacks took place. The violent stories of these vicious attacks began to escalate and spread throughout these regions of Europe.

The first in-depth recording of these Werewolf sightings took place around the countryside of German towns of Colongne and Bedburg in 1587. There was, at the time, a growing yarn that was reproduced in an age-old pamphlet describes of some of those shivering moments most vividly. As the yarn continued to spread out and build up momentum, the fable thickened with details.

The Case of Peter Stubbe

Meanwhile, another account began around 1589. According to information, a few villagers cornered a large wolf and set their dogs upon it. They started to pierce it with sharp sticks and spears. Surprisingly the ferocious wolf did not run away or tried to protect itself, rather it stood up and turned out to be a middle-aged man that people of the village recognized as Peter Stubbe.

Stubbe was put on a torture while being shown some “Christian Love” on the rack where he confessed sixteen murders including two pregnant women and thirteen children. The history behind his downfall was rather bizarre. He had started to practice sorcery when he was only 12 and was so obsessed with it that even tried to make a pact with the Devil.

Stubbe, wearing a magic girdle he started to attack his enemies, real or imaginary. After several months, he would take the guise of a wolf and continued with his evil acts with more brutality. In the wolf form he used to tear up victims’ throats and suck warm blood from veins. Gradually his thirst for blood grew and he roamed around fields in search of prey.

The savagery of his crimes was beyond a many of imagination. Not only was Stubbe accused of being a serial murderer and cannibal, but also of having an incestuous relationship with his daughter, who was sentenced to die with him. He also coupled with a distant relative, which was also considered to be incestuous according to the law. In addition to this he confessed to having had intercourse with a succubus sent to him by the Devil.

The trial record also motioned few additional details. Once, two men and a woman were walking along a road that went through the forest Stubbe used to hide in. He called one of them into the forest. When the man did not return for a long time the second one followed his trail and also disappeared into the forest. When both the man didn’t return for a long time the woman ran for her life.

Later, two mangled male corpses were recovered from the forest, but the woman’s body never reappeared. It was believed that Stubbe had devoured it all. Young girls playing together or milking the cows in the fields were his frequent victims. He used to chase them like a hound, catch the slowest one, raped and kill her. Then he would drink hot blood and eat tender flesh from her body. However, the most gruesome sin he committed was upon his own son. He took him to a nearby forest, cracked the poor child’s skull open and ate brain from it – All from court testimony of the time.

I don’t believe half of it since the man was tortured into a confession by the steep religious hypocritical government at the time. Remember folks, these times were called the “Dark Ages” for a reason. The Catholic Church ran most of Europe at the time.

Of course, there were no punishment that could match the magnitude of Stubbe’s crime. His flesh was pulled off with red-hot pincer, his arms and legs were broken and he was finally decapitated. His carcass was burned to ashes.

The Magistrate of Bedburg built a grim monument remembering the ghastly incident. Workmen put the torture rack atop a tall pole with Stubbe’s head above it structured with the likeliness of a wolf. Sixteen pieces of yard long wood cuts were hung from the rim of the wheel commemorating poor souls of the victims. Even the words of Stubbe’s trial and execution spread across the lands in no time as far as London, England.

His brutality, atrocity, and savagery were beyond human comprehension. Some have said as readily related with the behavior that of a wolf. People feverishly began believing in that such individuals with the shadow of wolves were living among them.

His werewolf account wasn’t the only story pinned to court records of the time…

The Case of Pierre Burgot and Michel Verdun

The trial of Pierre Burgot and Michel Verdum, two French peasants in 1521 got wide spread notoriety. Nineteen years before when Burgot was desperately trying to gather his storm frightened sheep, he came across three mysterious black dressed horsemen. One of them assured him the future protection of his sheep and gave him some money. In return the stranger asked Burgot to obey him as the Lord. Burgot accepted the offer and agreed to meet them again. In the second meeting the so-called Lord announced the full conditions of the deal; Burgot must denounce the God, the Holy Virgin, the Company of Heaven and baptism.

As year passed Burgot became reluctant to maintain the pact. Then he was called by Michel Verdum. Verdum ordered him to strip naked and rub a magic ointment on his body. When Burgot had followed as instructed he found his arms and legs had become hairy and his hands reshaped into paws. Verdum transformed himself into werewolf too and together they ran through the surrounding countryside. They committed various awful crimes. They tore to pieces a seven-year-old boy, killed a woman and abducted a four-year-old girl. The unfortunate girl was fully eaten up by two of them. When they were caught they were duly put to death. Their picture was hung in the local church as a reminder of all the evil deeds that men could commit under the influence of Satan.

I like my female dishes a hell of a lot older…

The word “werewolf” is most likely to derive from two old-Saxon words, wer (meaning man) and wolf. Frequently used Greek terms such as Lycanthropy refers to the transformation process while Lycanthrope, which is in fact synonymous to “werewolf,” as to the afflicted person.

The popular definition of werewolf or lycanthrope is a man or woman who transforms themselves or being transformed into a wolf under the influence of full moon.

With all this aside, the trail of the werewolf is much older as the source of the origins actually begin with the Greek Mythologies. According to the myth, the god Zeus once disguised himself as a traveler and sought for hospitality to the court of vicious Arcadian King Lycaon. The King recognized the God and tried to kill Him by serving him human flesh. God Zeus caught the terrible trick and did not eat. Outraged, He destroyed the palace and condemned Lycaon to spend rest of his life as a wolf.

Written by a Deadwood Werewolf…

Grr…

Werewolves of Deadwood; Full Moon Reprisal

“Once again; Forget what you have been told about werewolves, forget about the bullshit traditional things said such as the full moon, wolf bane, and being a slave to vampires. Sorry, it’s just all a bunch of unfettered shit and if you insist on believing in these things, they’ll find your remains with all the others in the deep forest where even the wild animals fear to tread in the Black Hills.”

Connelly Pettimore

---

”Now I told you that I would be back and for some reason you thought that I wouldn’t? Did you think I just say things to tickle your fucking nuts and amuse you, Gary?” A tall powerful man covered in tattoos and piercings in black leather stood before Gary the old man looking through his thick glasses standing on the other side.

“No asshole, I believed you. I just didn’t know as to when…” He paused blinking up at the powerful man with a harden face of road grime and granite.

“I just don’t know how you persuaded the Council to allow you. And I am assuming that Aimee Taylor is still hunting and sharing your kills with you?” Gary asked.

The tall man silent begins to sit down in the empty bar, “The Gallows” here in Deadwood. It is early afternoon. He pulls out one of the chairs from the bar to sit comfortably down. The powerful and very intimidating man nods still looking sharply at Gary.

“I guess the Council is getting soft these days.” Gary somewhat intimidated by the powerful man, taps him a fresh beer in a tall glass.

“Pettimore, I for one, am glad you’re fuckin’ back. Lemme say that, and since it looks like you just rode in, I am gonna assume you don’t know jack-fucking-shit on what happened since you left.” He slides Pettimore the glass along the polished surface of the bar as Gary throws a towel over his shoulder.

“This should wash away the road.” Gary flashes a smile.

Pettimore takes one huge drink from the glass emptying the entirety in one gulp, wipes the froth from his top lip, “Yeah she’s with me, still. Fuck, besides, she’s a good bitch and mate for me.”

Gary raises a brow frozen only for a moment and pours Connelly another one. “Good then. You tell your bitch if she wants her job back, she can have it.” Gary says as he pours without looking back at Pettimore sitting there looking around through his dark eyes darting back and forth.

“You’ll tell that bitch of yours, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will you Jack Nicolson look-alike motherfucker.” Connelly just sits there and then goes for his leather wallet that is fastened to a stainless-steel change fixed to a belt-loop to his riding chaps and leather riding pants. His boots dusty and covered in road grime.

Gary smiles at the comment about the movie star just mentioned, “No, you got it wrong, asshole. You see, it is ole’ Jack that looks like me. I have been around a good couple of centuries longer than he has.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right on that one.” Quipped the big man.

“How was fucking New Mexico?” Gary asks as he leans over the bar and sees Connelly going for a few bills from a loaded wallet filled full of money.

“Fuck you, Pettimore; Your money is no good here, you stupid fuck.” Connelly looks over at him and cracks a smile.

“Thanks, old man.”

“Where is Aimee? And if you don’t mind me sayin’, I miss smelling her sweet cunt most days.” Gary’s eyes flashed towards the man to see if he offended him with his statement.

“Oh, she is visiting her cousin right now. She’ll be down in a few minutes or so.” Connelly takes another drink, this time much slower making the beer last. He sits down the glass and burps wiping his stubble face.

It didn’t offend in the least, “Tell me that the fucking Council knows you’re back.” Gary looking concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, in fact it was the Council that sent for me. Seems there has been some fucking trouble since I left.” Connelly’s smile evaporated into that serious look of his.

Fumbling for an ashtray and a pack of his own cigarettes, “Hey Pettimore, hand me one of my chairs so I can sit my old ass down with you. I heard a nasty rumor that the Council did sent for you and Aimee. This place, well, you know Deadwood.”

Without a word in response, Connelly hands him a bar stool next to him over the bar as Pettimore reaches under his coat and leather vest pulling out a half-crumpled pack of Camels and his black lighter joining Gary in a smoke as he continued to sip his beer.

As Gary lit up, “So Gary, when does the Gallows open up officially?”

Gary drew in deeply as he lit up his cigarette, “April One, motherfucker. Like I do every year.” He drew out the smoke under his smile through his nose and mouth.

“They told you about the trouble, did they?” Gary looked through his thick glasses he only needed when he is in human form.

“Yeah, they told me the killing, about what happened in Nemo with one of ours in the burnt down barn, and a couple of others as well. The Council said that the fucking blood-suckers even sent in a couple of their so-called ‘Death-Dealing Enforcers.’” Connelly gave Gary a moment to add to the information.

“Yes, that’s the fuck right…” Gary took another draw from his cigarette.

Pettimore took a quick look around the empty bar and took notice of all the changes, “You re-done some things.”

“Yeah, fucking upgrades to the place. We’ve been working on it when we can. Last year was pathetic in general here in Deadwood with ‘Sturgis’. This economy we’re living in fucking sucks, America is tanking if we all don’t do something about it, I suppose.” Gary paused momentarily.

“You know you stink like hell, Connelly. Shit man, when was the last time you took a fucking bath? Lemme guess, since leaving New Mexico?”

“Fuck you.” Connelly added as he waited for Gary to elaborate.

“Yeah, even had a couple three fuckers coming right in here before I closed down for the winter banging me around for information about you.” Gary looked through the cloud of exhaled smoke between them.

“So I’m told.” Connelly added.

“Yeah…” Gary pointed up to the ceiling at the high-powered U.V. lights. “I got sick of them smacking me around and turned their blood-leeching asses into dust.”

Connelly looked up taking noticed and began to bellow out his laughter shaking his head and looking back at his friend, Gary.

“You just put those fuckers in did you?”

“Like I said, fuckin’ upgrades…” Gary pauses once more and continues on with what he was saying in his train of thought to his friend.

“…Got a couple of their bikes outta the deal. They wouldn’t be needing them after the motherfucking tan I gave them. Shit, even gave one of them away.”

“No shit, any good?”

“Yeah once you clean their stench off of the bikes, not bad at all. Worth the trouble really, truth be told and shit.” Gary then grew silent again as Pettimore could see in his old friend that he was struggling over his next words or perhaps some way to frame it all for himself.

“I would have loved to have seen the look on their fucking faces when they realized they walked into a goddamn trap.“There was some additional bullshit that happened too…” Connelly took another sip from his beer.

“Tell me about it.”

“…We got a new family. A good family…” Gary’s eyes darted back up towards Pettimore’s own.

“The DeLagarza family, right?”

“Yeah…” Gary somewhat surprised that Pettimore knows of the family and then continues, “Christopher is his first name, can’t remember his mate’s name right now.” Gary looking down at his own feet perched on the foot railing on his chair beneath him.

“Anyways…”

“This DeLagarza guy, listen Connelly, he’s a hard working family type and what happened to him, he and his family didn’t disserved.” Gary warned.

“Probably not then.”

“Most definitely not, Connelly. You see, about four of those fucking blood-sucking leeches came around and thought he was you.”

Connelly feeling Gary words now deeply, deeper than before takes a sip of his beer that tasted more bitter now with the ill news unfolding. This of course, bothers him in knowing an innocent wolf was to be blamed for his own actions with this uneasy truce between the local vampire covens and that of the werewolf packs in the area.

“Is this DeLagarza guy, he must be one big motherfucker then?” As Pettimore sat his glass down slowly looking genuinely concerned.

“He’s better fuckin’ looking if that’s what you mean?” Gary tried to make Pettimore lighten up, he could feel the growing tension in him. The tension that Gary is creating, but he knows he needs to bring his friend up to speed with the times. Seeing this wasn’t working, Gary continued to talk on uninterrupted drawing all of Connelly’s attention under his thick brow.

“They came one evening, naturally. Those motherfuckers…” Gary grabbed a Bud Light bottle from under the bar before him in one of the stainless steel coolers he filled full of ice a few minutes before Pettimore walked into the darkly lit place.

As Gary opened the bottle, he looked at Connelly, “They fucked him up real bad…” Gary twisted off the top and took a sip from it before continuing looking at Connelly through his glasses now resting on the end of his long nose.

“You know he has kids…” Connelly looked away as Gary’s words seemed to just slapped the side of his left face. Connelly then looked down at the floor with his eyes darting back and forth.

“It gets worse. You see, those dead-walkin’ motherfuckers jumped DeLagarza. DeLagarza has no real experience with vampires to speak of. They sprayed his face with that LSD bullshit that kept him from changing where he could do something about it. Where he would have a near fair-fuckin’-fight out of all of it. Now, listen…” Pettimore looked back over at him ever so sternly.

“He survived, his kids and wife. Those motherfuckers took his family.”

“What the fuck!” Connelly stood erected as his eyes began to change to a silver glow transitioning into a dark maroon red before going into a soulless fury of black as Gary reeled back at his powerful friend is now beginning to change.

“Now hold the fuck on, we got ‘em all back just fine. Did you miss the fucking part I just said, ‘He survived, and his kids and wife?’ We slaughtered every one of those motherfuckers and sent a goddamn message back to the four covens – What’s left of them anyways. Shit, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. You can see, a fucking war almost broke out over this DeLagarza shit. You just hold the fuck on and sit the fuck down!” Gary growing upset stood up pointing his right index finger to the top of Connelly’s barstool.

“You just sit the fuck back down.”Gary commanded once more.

Connelly partially in his own change stood there for a moment working through the change and anger begins to change back into his human form slowly.

“That’s better…” Gary sits down lighting up another cigarette and steadies his own nerves as well.

“We got them back safely, we killed about ten of those motherfuckers in one sitting. You know Dan, right?And you know that crazy motherfucker, Douglas, right?”

“Yeah.” Connelly looking away as tears began to well up in his eyes from the emotion drawn.

“That motherfucker Doug comes and shows up with all that blue war paint on his face. Fuck, who knew?”

“Knew what?”

“Knew he is a motherfucking werewolf.”

“Bullshit!” Connelly smiled remembering his friend living here in Deadwood, a writer, a blogger, a stoner, a crazy fuck, and his friend that would bring laughter to him.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me?”

“Nope, so this fucker hears about Chris and especially his family and shows the fuck up here at the bar like someone invited his ass or something. You see, we used it as a staging point to go after the cocksuckers after we found out where these fucks had Christopher’s family to formulate a fucking plan of sorts.”

Connelly took another sip, “Anyways, you friend shows the fuck up with all this tribal-looking blue paint on his face wearing a big black belt, a pouch in the front, and a motherfucking kilt underneath. Yeah, so you know Dan, right?”

“Yeah yeah, so?”

“So?” Gary chuckles shaking his head.

“Daniel says, ‘Hey dude, nice skirt.’ And your psychopathic pal halls off and breaks Dan’s jaw in-two and in this fury of his, runs the palm of his hand shoving the bridge of Dan’s nose almost to the back of his own skull nearly killing him.”

“No fucking shit?” Connelly now genuinely surprised.

Gary smiles, “No shit and that’s when your crazy motherfucking friend is grabbed by a few of us and then begins his change. Fuck man, we were just as surprised as old Dan down there holding his fucking face with both hands.”

Connelly beams a smile, “I can’t fuckin’ believe it.”

“Yeah, who the fuck knew? I mean, you friend never attended any of the gatherings or shit. A lone wolf I suppose.”

“Blue war paint?”

“Yeah…” Gary took another sip from his bottle of beer, “I mean after what he did to Daniel lipping the fuck off, I wasn’t gonna say a fucking word. This friend of yours, Connelly; He ain’t all the fuck here. I mean this guy is some sort of a strange motherfucker. His hide and fur turned to like a dark blue or some kind of black of sorts.”

Connelly looking a bit confused and surprised just remained silent, “So then one of the others said ‘He ain’t no fucking Indian’ as someone said, ‘What the fuck is he, Indian or something.’ It was that Scottish wolf that perked the fuck up and said, calling Taylor ‘A goddamn Pict.’”

“Pict?” Puzzling Connelly even more.

Gary smiled, “Fuck if I know what that means. It wasn’t until some time later that someone explained it to me. Listen Pettimore, your friend, this Doug fella’ he ain’t all here is he?”

“What happened. I mean, what else happened?”

“A motherfucking shit-storm happened. We left here chasing your fucking pal down Deadwood, halfway down Sherman Street passed the ‘ABC Office’ Supply when Dave, the store owner came the fuck out and manage to knock Douglas down. So there we are with two wolves in full change in public battling it out.” Gary smiled.

“Dave got the better of the beating, but punched Taylor in the fucking nuts and took the fight right outta him a bit.” Connelly smiled once more.

“Thank the fucking gods nobody else saw this shit. The other Gary, Young Gary brought the van around.” Gary took another drag from his smoke before continuing.

“Then we headed to Cheyenne Crossing and went into Wyoming and found the old cabin and barn. By then, your fucking friend mended up as with Dan and well we went into the barn and found the children and the wife of DeLagarza all bound the fuck up. They were sprayed down and couldn’t change. Seems his wife took a real special beating if you know what I fucking mean…”

Connelly snarled.

“Yeah, I know…” Gary paused and then continued seeing that Connelly understood what he was driving at.

“Taylor in full changed went fucking bat-shit crazy and as the vampires came for him, rushing him, he ripped the head of one of them off by the fucking shoulders and your boy covered in that black arterial spray turns to us and says, ‘Vampires boys! It’s what’s for dinner!’ I mean the mere fuck of it all!”

Connelly flashed a smile as he continues on with the account, “Yeah, it was on like a motherfucker then. I guess those fucking vampires didn’t see the rest of us crashing the place behind that crazy son of a bitch friend of yours. Anyway, Taylor grabs two more and this sick motherfucker encourages the rest of us, the whole pack by ripping out the spine and skull to be included in one fell swoop as one of those faggot vampires attempts to spray some LSD into his black eyes.”

Gary chuckles a bit as he continues on with the account, “One motherfucking slap broke the cocksucker holding that shit in his hand as if the twinkled-toed cocksucker thought that would stop your crazy fucking friend. Shit, it didn’t. We all jumped right into the fight.” Gary draws in deeply and puts out the cigarette into the ashtray.

Looking over at and into the glass of Connelly’s beer his gaze turned into a stare as if he is peering directly into that scene he is telling Pettimore as the whole event began fully playing out in his mind.

“Connelly, not only did your fucking pal fight like ten wolves that you should be very proud of, but there’s this medieval, a real medieval part of him that scares even me, man. Once Taylor’ got a little bit of that blood on him, he just went bat-shit crazy and began sinking fangs, claws, and shit shredding these motherfuckers up. God you should have seen the look in their blue-cock-smoking eyes as he killed their fucking faggot-assed friends. It was a goddamned massacre.” Gary pauses once more quickly in reflection.

“Old school, your friend, definitely old school. I haven’t seen such killing like this since I was a fucking pup and it did my heart some goddamn good, it did us all some goddamn good!” Gary drew out and lit a fresh cigarette.

“Then all of this encouraged the shit out of all of us like I said. Shit, these Vampires began freaking the fuck out and climbing the walls and the ceiling to escape. Two managed to get, right passed us. Taylor feeding on the brains of one, a real gruesome scene as the vamp was still alive saw this and went after them.”

“No shit?” Pettimore looking just as stunned as before.

“No shit…” Gary flashed another smile, “They didn’t get too far, lemme tell you that. One of them tried to turn into a bat or something. The other a wolf, and in that, you could find its entrails a quarter mile. That friend of yours, my fucking god.” Gary just shook his head and continued.

“Man as quickly as it started, we slaughtered every fucking one of them. You see, we wasn’t suppose to kill every bitch in the place. We were suppose to take a couple of them alive back to the Council. Yeah, like that shit was suppose to fucking happen with Taylor and all.”

Gary paused and filled Pettimore’s beer as Connelly remained absolutely quiet.

“We got DeLagarza’s family out alive. Taylor was outside when we brought the children and DeLagarza’s wife out. Your boy’s kilt was saturated in black blood and remained in the darkness. You see, it was a moonless night and all. So we got everyone back into the van and your crazy motherfucking friend stands there panting and says, “So whatta ‘bout Chris you motherfuckers?”

“Yeah what about him?” Connelly asked as he was seeing the entire scene play out in his mind as well.

“Rick Allen, he jumps out as covered in gore as Taylor and says, ‘What the fuck are you talkin’ about?’ I get out closing the van in hopes that DeLagarza’s family is still inside and as are as scared as hell about what all just happened.

“Taylor says that while eating the brains of one of those fucks still alive, he saw, and I for one, don’t asked how. Man that motherfucker’s crazy. He says he knows where DeLagarza is at and that this DeLagarza is still very much alive.”

“No fucking shit?”

“No shit…” Gary answers back looking as confused and shocked as Pettimore.

“Your friend then says, ‘You motherfuckers, you piss-poor slack-jawed motherfuckers, let’s get ‘em!’ We followed Taylor into the darkness as the van left under orders to get back to Deadwood immediately. You see, we all thought DeLagarza must be dead by now. Now you boy Taylor didn’t.”

Gary filled Pettimore’s glass once more as he spoke from behind the bar, “On our paws we found the remains of some old farm house. Behind it, a fucking old well, and guess who was all fucked up and looking up from that goddamn pit?”

“This DeLagarza.”

“Sure as shit…” Gray watched Connelly take a sip.

“Taylor without a fucking word jumps down into the pit and throws DeLagarza up to us. Man, I sure was glad to see DeLagarza alive myself. You see, they, the vamps even injected DeLagarza with LSD and it was impossible for Chris to change. If he could change, he might of gotten out himself.”

“I see, then what?”

“Then what? Then what? Your fucking friend wants to kill every fucking one of these vampires in Wyoming that were in cahoots with the kidnapping of DeLagarza’s family. Chris was really busted up really bad. He was left there in the pit for god knows how long, man. He could have fucking died.”

Gary grew silent only for a moment, “So here we are, just three and a half of us in some cow pasture when six vampires come outta that old house armed to the teeth. Taylor fucking chucks DeLagarza back into the pit and takes a couple of shots into the back. Meanwhile, DeLagarza is screaming in pain like a little bitch. Some sort of a bullet later we found out about it later, well it dropped Taylor only for a few moments. We managed to kill every fucking one of them as well.  Taylor gets the fuck up and torches the whole place down. He wouldn’t leave until doing so. Good thing too, there were a couple of chicken-shit-cocksuckers hiding out in the house. They had a car, we fucking took it, put Taylor and DeLagarza into the back seat. Should have put Taylor in the fucking trunk.”

Connelly smiled.

Like before, Gary takes a sip of his beer, “We make it back, we take Chris and your friend to the hospital. They removed the bullets from Taylor, four of them, silver nitrate and some sort of poison that would kill any wolf so I’m told. Taylor recovers just fine – What a fucking animal.”

“What of DeLagarza?”

“The LSD wears the fuck off, and you know we have wolves working there at the Hospital too, right?”

“Yeah, naturally. What kind of poison?”

Gary looks down to the floor as his thumb and index finger from his right hand rub his chin in trying to remember it. “You know, I can’t think of the goddamn name right now. The Council and the doctors at the Deadwood Hospital know. It some sort of neurotoxin. Should have at least paralyzed Taylor completely if not killing him like it was intended say nothing of the silver nitrate in his body. But then again, silver doesn’t really do shit to us like it did in the old fucking days. Yeah, they force DeLagarza to change to speed up the healing. I mean, he was busted up pretty damned good. You see, the vampires were keeping him around and were to bring him to his family a few acres or so over and make him watch as the cocksuckers would kill his family one by fucking one until DeLagarza would tell them what they wanted them to know about you, which he knows jack-fucking-shit, and general Intel.”

Another moment of silence then broken by Gary, “Taylor heals just fine and eventually released as we found out a few things about this so-called new weapon, and there isn’t all that much to say other than it doesn’t really work other than taking the fight outta Taylor. The Council orders some testing done. We found out the Silver Nitrate can kill. They just didn’t get it right, thank God. The combination is what makes it deadly. That was about it. Anyways, DeLagarza is reunited and a meeting with the Council concludes a discussion…” He’s cut off by Pettimore.

“The Council summons an attack on those still alive and responsible for the kidnapping and shit for fucking once!”

“That’s right. It’s gone too fucking far with these blood-sucking leeches.” Gary adds.

“Then they get a hold of me when things are sort of even I suppose?” Connelly quickly figures out.

“Something like that. I mean, DeLagarza is back on top of his game. Taylor, you friend…” Gary flashes a look into Pettimore’s eyes, “…He’s all the fuck for it. I think Taylor would have went after everyone of them asshole blood-suckers alone. I guess man, you know, when he went after the brains of that motherfucker, he saw a lot more than we would ever come to know. I mean, with the DeLagarza thing, it made a fucking believer outta me. I guess man, the Council of Elders also found out something else through Taylor. You see, if you hit, you know, sink your fangs into the heart lungs, liver, and what not, you get a flash of what is going on, what the vamps see or know to a wee bit of a degree. We all experienced this with our run-ins with them. However, when you crack open a skull and dine upon their dark brains and shit, you see a whole hell of a lot more, my friend.”

“No fucking shit! Really?”

“Really man!” Gary takes another drag and sips his beer.

“Taylor, that crazy ass motherfucker knows the game plan of the vamps,he  knows who is all fucking responsible. Kind of like, he can see how far the rabbit goes down in the rabbit hole with the vampires and their treachery. So knowing all this shit, we went after every one of these motherfuckers. We did the same fucking thing as Taylor did. No shit, it works. Now for the covens responsible, we showed them some motherfucking daylight. We have come to know where their liar was, we knew where they were sleeping – We knew every-fucking-thing. Those bastards are all ash now. Those directly responsible. So, during the winter, we went out after getting approval and continued killing every fucking one of them. Connelly, we fucking wiped out two covens in Wyoming, the coven in Lead is of no more, and the coven in Aberdeen is down to two blood-sucking cockbites left and that fucking ran to Chicago. Not to worry, we have brothers on the South Side that will affectionately deal with them.”

“No shit?” Connelly raises up momentarily from his bar stool in excitement.

“Yeah, we put the fear of god in all of them. However, because of the shit that Taylor discovered, we found out a lot of shit. Did the Council tell you about the thing with the vampires in this region, you know, the sickness and all?”

“Yeah, nothing in great detail. Just letting me know, these fuckers are dying out because of it all. Something like AIDS for vampires or something, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Something like that. I guess as it turns out, a viral disease that really drains them, I guess they’ve been feeding on some of those sick ass bastards that wanted to be changed into one of them, you know, their fucking slaves, and shit.”

“Yeah, anyways, this is true enough, right?”

“Oh the fuck yeah, and for some time as well. This has been going on for sometime. I mean, a long time.” Gary took another sip of his beer.

“What does this DeLagarza do here?” Connelly asked.

“Oh…” Gary sits his beer down, “He works in the construction business. He’s quite good at it. He lives right here in town as does his family. Is all right, he’ll continue to be just fine.” Gary adds and takes another drink from his bottle of cold beer.

“You should go look in on them after you get all settled in, my friend.” Gary concludes as Connelly finishes the contents of his beer and sits the empty glass down.

“I’ll do just that. Yeah, I’ll tell Aimee about the job. I know she’ll be interested and thanks for the beer.” Connelly then walks out of the Gallows and fires up his bike riding off.