The grotesque werewolf snarls. It tumbles across the pavement and staggers to its right as it dodges Nick's bullets.

Once he runs out, Nick curses under his breath, tosses his backpack on the floor, unveils his set of knives from his sleeves, and flings at the growling beast. Its claws collide with Nick's blades while I burn its left side with heaping balls of green fire.

In the meantime, Casper drops his bag and twists his entire body until he becomes a fierce lion. He then gallops towards the raging hound and slashes his claws across the werewolf's spiteful face, drawing blood from its thick cheekbones.

Biting my lip, I blast green flames at the dog-like creature, who narrowly sprints around Casper and then gallops toward Nick.

Struggling to pierce the mutt's hind legs with his knives, Nick lets out a frustrated sigh, abandons his original plan, and decides to do the unthinkable. He grabs a small arrow from his ankle holster and a lighter from his pocket. Then, Nick drags the arrow across his left hand, tilts his head, and licks the dark blood oozing from the cut before igniting the lighter.

Eventually, once he tilts his head to the small flame, Nick blows it hard. Toxic black smoke flies out of the boy's mouth as Nick clouds the monstrous dog's vision.

I take a step back, where Casper turns himself back into his original form and watches the hound become overwhelmed by the demonic smoke, trapping it in an inky cocoon. With his hand still on the lever, Nick is about to throw his lighter when the werewolf takes off into the streets.

"What the fuck?" I gasp.

Clenching their fists, Casper and I want to follow that fleeing creature when a breathless Nick tells us to stop.

"Dude, what are you talking about?" Casper cries. "And what the hell is that thing, anyway?"

"It's a Rougarou, a fancy word for Cajun werewolf," I answer. "My uncle told me stories about them when I was a kid."

We hear a car crash and a blood-curdling scream.

Curious, Casper walks over to the sound of the noises, but I take him by the arm and drag him close to me so he won't get himself torn to shreds.

"We need a fucking plan," I tell him.

"I know," Nick vows, touching my shoulder. "We'll get that thing, but first, we need a car."

Stunned, Casper lowers his hands and sighs, "Even if we did steal a car, we've got to have a plan B. So, if you have any great ideas on how to stop that fucker from killing people, I'm all ears."

"Maybe we can get the mutt's attention," I suggest.

"Okay, but how?" asked Casper.

I glance over Nick's shoulder and notice an unused silver motorcycle lying on the white sidewalk. This gives me an idea.

"Hey, Nick," I say eagerly. "Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?"

Putting his shaggy hair in a bun, Nick scrunches his face until he watches me run towards the bike, pick it up with maximum effort, and take it towards the boys. While Casper studies the motorcycle in pure awe, Nick frowns at me like a disapproving mother.

"Seriously, Teddy?" he groans. "Are you thinking about stealing it?"

"No, we're borrowing it," I reason.

"What if it bursts into flames?" asked Nick. "Or gets crushed like an egg?"

I harden my jaw. "First of all, it's not your bike. Second, there's fucking werewolf tearing people's heads off. So, unless you and Casper have any other brilliant plans, we need this bike."

Nick rolls his eyes, whereas Casper approaches the bike with caution. He runs his hand across the handlebars and asks me if he can ride it, only to be irritated when Nick and I shake our heads.

"Oh, come on!" Casper whines. "I want to drive it!"

"Dude, you're seventeen," I remind him.

"So?"

"So, unless you have experience riding a motorbike, I'm not letting you risk your life like that."

Seething with envy, Casper watches Nick climb on top of the bike and then grab onto the handlebars. The young James Dean searches tirelessly for the keys when I activate the engine with a snap of my fingers.

The vehicle roars to life. The headlight burns brighter than the stars scattered across the dark sky. As Nick revs up the bike, he turns to me then asks what my plan is.

"Do you know where Storyville, New Orleans is?" I ask.

"Not really," he admits.

"Well, it's the only red-light district legal," I explain. "I'd say we lead the Rougarou to that place and kill it for good."

Nick squints at me and then inquires, "And just how do you think we're going that?"

"I have an idea," I begin. "But you're not going to like this part."

********
While Nick takes off into the night with the motorcycle, Casper and I find an abandoned blue Volvo parked in the Le Bayou Restaurant & Oyster Bar. Whipping my head back and forth, I have Casper watch my six - much to his annoyance.

"I still don't understand why you won't let me drive a car," he complains. "It's so unfair!"

"A) I called dibs on it," I simply answer. "B) you torched my fucking car three weeks ago."

"Okay, first of all, we were in a traffic jam," Casper states. "And second, we killed that headless horseman like it was a piece of cake."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm letting you go anywhere near a car."

"Ugh."

Pressing my hand against the door, I concentrate on the lock until it pops close to the window. After that, I swing the door open and invite myself inside while Casper reluctantly crawls inside the passenger seat and then takes the time to remove his backpack.

I activate the car by snapping my fingers and then back out of the lot without anyone looking. Shifting the gears, I swerve the car and notice a trail of blood puddles and cracked footprints on the concrete floor, prompting me to follow them.

One thing is sure - the trail left by the paw prints of the beast is one of devastation. Jagged rocks and debris are sent hurling over the car, shattering cars and spilling blood. But despite the chaos surrounding me, I remain focused and in control.

With a tight grip on the steering wheel, I catch a few glimpses of Nick on his bike, driving under the monstrous dog's belly with determination.

As the long roads led to towering buildings, the lively establishments of coffee shops, elaborate lounges, bustling grocery stores, and bustling strip malls now lay dormant. The once bustling city now exudes a haunting stillness, as if it harbors a sense of despair.

Homelessness stretches its reach through the streets as drug dealers conduct their trade, exchanging packets of white powder. Bold and daring gangsters proudly brandish their firearms, yet at the sight of a dog, their faces contort with fear, and they scatter in different directions, causing Nick and me to navigate our way around them.

With practiced precision, Nick swiftly unsheathes his blade from its bag, ready to take on the ferocious canine. In one swift motion, he closes the gap and plunges his weapon deep into the canine's abdomen.

A thick, inky substance oozes onto the concrete as the dog-like human lets out a pained howl. Snarling, it turns its attention to Nick, who calmly retracts his sword and slips into the left lane.

Blaring car horns fill the air as enraged drivers direct their anger towards us.

Nick quickly veers into the right lane, maneuvering through the chaotic traffic. Speeding through a red light, Nick expertly dodges innocent bystanders. When he thinks he's escaped unscathed, something catches his eye.

"What the fuck?" I murmur.

Taking a deep breath, I tell Casper to hang on, then swerve the stolen Volvo around the disgruntled drivers.

The stretch of roads transforms into towering skyscrapers, leaving the streets empty. Everywhere, shops and eateries are shuttered, creating a desolate atmosphere. In this stillness, a sense of despair lingers.

On every corner, streetwalkers await their next client while drug peddlers haggle over bags filled with unknown substances. Swaggering gang members display intimidating firearms, but upon spotting a massive dog-like beast, they scatter in different directions, forcing me to maneuver around them.

Though I managed to reach Storyville, I couldn't find Nick anywhere. He's not driving near the seedy bars, rundown motels, or strip clubs.

Did I miss him somehow?

Digging his nails into the seat, Casper takes a couple of deep breaths and croaks, "Hey, Teddy! Do you think you can drop the Mad Max horseshit and stick to Driving Miss Daisy?"

I press my foot against the gas pedal, accelerating over the speed limit. I navigate on the left lane like a maniac, forcing Casper to cover his mouth.

He struggles not to puke, but I press down on the gas pedal even more, ramming the car against the demonic canine. Chunks of metal and glass sprinkle themselves on the cracked concrete.

Screeching tires hurt my ears until I slam the stolen car against the werewolf's right leg, forcefully guiding it into an alley behind a deserted strip club. On the one hand, Casper and I crawl out of the car unscathed. I grab my backpack off the floor and pull my friend to his feet.

On the other hand, Casper got so sick that he grabbed his bag, hurried to the nearby dumpster, and threw up until he could barely stand. Spitting out the remains of his lunch, Casper stares at the broken headlights and cracked windshield.

"Pardon my French," he grunts. "But who the fuck taught you how to —"

"MOVE!" I shout.

I push Casper out as the snarling canine crushes the Volvo with its monstrous paw.

Coming to our aid is Nick, leaving the motorcycle and his bag near the front entrance of the strip club. He yanks the sword from the holster and then hurries to our side. Casper yanks his firearm from his waistband and fires multiple bullets at the injured creature until he accidentally jams it.

"Jesus, fuck!" he groans.

While Casper attempts to fix it, I boldly stand before him. Lightning spread from my fingertips as I stun the Rougarou into submission. The stench of burnt flesh makes me hesitate, but I take a couple of deep breaths and pierce the werewolf's skin when the Rougarou tilts its head to the starless sky.

The pain spreads inside its veins, but once again, the hound musters all of its strength to attack us at once.

Bullet wounds close by themselves, whereas the burns I gave him fade like fog. Strong teeth bear at me and Casper while Nick creeps behind the beast with his blade clutched in his sore hands.

Gritting his teeth, Nick grips the hilt with his fingers and slices the sword twice across the demonic dog's hairy chest. The monster staggers until the gash closes, making me rethink my tactics. Clutching my hands, I charge towards the Rougarou, only for the sick fuck to pin me down with its powerful claws.

"Oh, God! Teddy!" Casper cries out in panic, frantically trying to unjam his gun as my life hangs in the balance.

The hulking canine had its sights locked on the witch, its blood-drenched fangs ready to strike.

With a stroke of luck, Casper manages to free his weapon just in the nick of time and fires at the back of the beast's head. While it did focus its attention away from me, the mutt is more determined to hunt down Casper.

Coming to our rescue is Nick, proving to be a stealthy and cunning ally. He leaps on top of the strip club with sheer agility and trudges carefully along the ledge.

Once Nick approaches the monster, he plummets onto the towering creature's head and drives his sword deep into its skull in a daring feat.

Our bodies involuntarily jerk at the transformation of the werewolf into a pile of blood and gore, staining our sweat-soaked clothes. Upon landing on the grimy floor, Nick wipes the red substance with a quick swipe before rushing over to us.

"Casper! Teddy!" Nick cries. "Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah," I respond, "I wish I could say the same to you. Looks like you could use a shower."

Nick chuckles as he looks down at his blood-soaked. "Yeah, but let's get Kenzie first. Joey's counting on me to bring her home."

*****
When we return to my demolished car, I repair it with my powers and drive the boys to the fancy part of Louisiana.

Nick slips his sword into his back, whereas Casper marvels at the restaurants and designer shops along Madisonville.

Meanwhile, my wounded face heal on their own. Blood stops trickling down from my bruised knuckles, the filthy stains on my clothes refuse to disappear.

Peering through his window, Casper gasps, "Holy shit, is this where Kenzie's friends live?"

Nick looks at the city briefly, then yawns, "Yeah, I think so."

"I wish I could live there, you know?" Casper said, and a dreamy smile emerged on his face. "I want to buy a huge TV and a swimming pool in my living room."

I give Casper a look. "You want a swimming pool in your living room?"

Casper tilts his head to the side.

"Oh, please," he scoffs. "It's not like I give a fuck about money."

"You don't?" Nick asks in surprise.

"Well, yeah," Casper continues. "I need money for bills, but I don't care about it. You get what I mean?"

Nick raises his eyebrow. "Uh, no? Why do you think that?"

"Because I don't see the point in spending money," said Casper. "It's stressful, exhausting, and you'll be broke in three seconds. That's why, from now on, I won't worry about money anymore. I'm just going to focus on the good things."

"Ah," I say, pausing in front of the stoplight. "So, you're into the easy life, huh? Hakuna Matata-style?"

Casper chuckles. He drapes his arms behind his head and stares at the grayish-brown ceiling.

"Yeah, but I am also into getting my art all over New York, like Basquiat," he yawns. "Oh, and after being big and famous, I will invent thirty different skateboard tricks."

Nick snorts in disbelief. "That's a pile of horse shit."

Setting my jaw, I jab Nick's sore shoulder with my right elbow. "Just let the kid dream a little. We are people, after all."

"Yeah!" Casper agrees. "I mean, I know it's never going to happen, but I want to try doing all the things I love before I go six feet under."

Nick bows his head in remorse and closes his eyes.

"You're right," he admits. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"So, you want to become Basquiat and the next Tony Hawk. What else is on your to-do list, eh?"

A shy smile emerges from Casper's lips. He diverts his gaze from the glass and stares at the rearview mirror without blinking.

"Take Esme out on a date," Casper confesses. "I mean, I'm broke as hell, but I want to treat her like a princess, you know? Take her on one of those trips to Ellis Island, treat her to a fancy restaurant, and maybe teach her how to tag a couple of buildings."

I smirk at his goal. "You got it bad for her, huh?"

"Yeah, I do," Casper confesses. "And I don't care if I have to lie or cheat people out of their money. Esme's going to have the best date in the goddamn world."

While I find his plans a little sketchy, I think it's cute that Casper is hopelessly in love with Esme. I want nothing more than for him to be happy, but the one thing I've learned from a long line of random hookups is that people aren't who they say they are.

I hope Esme doesn't break his heart. Casper's been through shit more than me and the last thing I want to see is Casper lying in his bed, gorging on Snackwell's and listening to Jodeci.

© kstorm68q