Isis:: The Book of Werewolves

Another person walked on, this bus of fate was working quite well, the fact that no one had noticed that the bus had no destination on it, amused me also. The bus driver is in fact, my lackey, a dead that I had implanted with an artificial soul; she will turn to sand when the journey is over. As will the bus, if they checked their tickets they were going one-way. Observation is sometimes crucial.

This is all me, the bus, pulling together people of interest and of various abilities and allowing their fates to intertwine, if they weren’t already.  I had tried this a million times before, but only a few turned out well and only one was perfect – perhaps you remember Ocean Skye? My town. I take the dead and abandoned and bring them to life, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.

There’s a certain woman by the name of Bastet that is my scout, she is one of my immortals and travels the world finding the abandoned. She was also one of my lovers, once, but it didn’t end too well when I asked her to travel the world... alone. Her only problem is, she’s sensitive to ghosts and abandoned places often harbour a few of them, so, I had to give her my cloak thus rendering me defenceless. Well, that’s not counting my agility, transformation and magic.

I watched the guy become drawn to Mog and I smiled, Russell is here at last. He’s late. I sighed, I was hoping he would be, but it is still too early. I don’t feel like fighting, yet. I will let events unfold; he will have to prove his worthiness soon though. This has to be perfect.



The sun was bright in the sky and the tourists were surrounding the pyramids like flies: dirty, disease carrying flies. The country had died, it is nothing but a shell of its former self and it made me feel sick. The natives were pedalling their goods to anyone that would buy them, showing off their camels and pushing their children into the fray to aim some pity cash. But no one understood the true majesty of this place; no one looked at this place and saw the golden sands of the Egyptian Age. They saw a picture opportunity and a chance to see a real camel.

But he did, he wasn’t their when I ruled over my people, but he understood what I was upset about. He knew me. But I couldn’t even keep him close to me.

I picked up the book of wolves from my bag, opening it to the first page. I traced my finger over the words ‘Never forget you – Bantam.’ His scrawl was elegant and I smiled. He had found my book once, before his pack left Egypt and he filled in the pages of his pack, signing his page with love messages. It made me bawl my eyes out for years.

The bus jerked, hitting a rock or perhaps some sort of small dinosaur, sending my book flying into the air. Dirty paws caught it with one hand, expertly managing not to spill a drop of his booze. “Uh...uh hey!” I cried, reaching over the back of the chair.

“What’s in this book anyway?” He flipped it over to the cover and took a swag from his bottle. Not alcohol, it would ruin the papyrus and the ink!

“Don’t get your filthy paws all over my-” then it hit me, exactly what was written in there, exactly what I didn’t want him to see. “Give it back!”

“Why?” he asked, looking through it with his greasy, alcoholic hands.

“Because it’s my property!” I screeched.

“This is all stuff about werewolves,” he frowned, “am I in here?” I shook my head, reaching over the chair further till my legs were flailing about in the air. He shoved me back and flicked onto his page. “This is my whole profile.”

Yeah, date of turn and moon phase, date of birth, relationships, his picture, important events... I am quite thorough. “Yes well, it’s not just you is it?” I growled, “Hand it back.” But he turned the next page: Melissa, the vampire come human come werewolf, the first and only in history. His face turned, screwed up into a ball. Nothing I could say would turn his face, or himself around.

“Screw you,” he shouted, throwing the book at my face, well, his intentions were clear but I caught it. I apologised and he downed at least another quarter of his bottle. “Why do you have that anyway?”

I paused.

“The first page...” I shook my head, “he filled in his pack’s information and I carried on. I wanted to keep the wolves of the world together in one book. Were’s are close to my heart,” I explained, sinking further into my chair.

“You look like a stalker,” he slurred and I nodded.

“I didn’t expect you to understand,” I retorted, I didn’t admire his bitter tone or the growl that followed. But, I guess that wasn’t his fault...

The End

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