The First Werewolf
Senator Phil Bradley looked up at his dark,
brooding house and felt a slight chill of foreboding. Something was
terribly wrong. He shook off the feeling and unlocked the front door. He
walked in and hung up his coat. “Jenny!” he called. “I’m home,
He frowned. It was only 9:30. His wife
never went to bed this early. She must have had a tough day.
Phil’s stomach rumbled, and he went
into the kitchen and flipped on the overhead light.
A note was taped to the refrigerator. It
read: YOU BETTER COME UPSTAIRS, SWEETHEART. I’VE GOT A VERY BIG
SURPRISE. Phil grinned. Maybe Jenny wasn’t so tired after all. Something
still nagged at him, though, and he peered closely at the note. With a
shock, he realized it wasn’t written in Jenny’s handwriting.
As he turned and rushed up the stairs,
he recalled the conversation he had had that afternoon with Ms. Jean
Marlowe, founder and president of LAD – Lycanthropes Against
"You want me to sponsor a bill
banning the discrimination against all registered lycanthropes?” Phil
asked in surprise. His position on lycanthropes was a matter of record.
“That’s right,” Jean Marlowe
replied quietly. She was a tall, long-legged voluptuous brunette with deep
Phil was a politician, and as such had
waffled on certain issues like all elected officials do, but on this he
remained firm. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. In fact, I’ll have
to serve as the loyal opposition.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” She
folded her hands and looked down at her lap. “I was hoping to appeal to
your compassion and sense of humanity.”
Phil was confused. According to his
sources, Jean Marlowe was a cold, shrewd negotiator who never let ethics
stand in her way. He said nothing.
She looked back at him, her eyes now sad
and appealing. Her lower lip quivered as she spoke. “I didn’t choose
to be a lycanthrope. I didn’t ask my lycanthrope parents to conceive. I
had no control over my destiny or my life, and it wasn’t fair.”
“Ms. Marlowe, I sympathize, but –”
“With all due respect, Senator, I
don’t want your sympathy, just your understanding. I am as human as you
are. I have an intellect, and can feel emotions – like pain and
loneliness.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.
Despite himself, Phil was moved, but
hardly swayed. “I can appreciate what you go through, Ms. Marlowe, but
that doesn’t change the fact that you transform into a dangerous,
powerful creature who is a menace to innocent Americans. Every month, tens
of thousands of people are injured or killed by your kind. Now, I will
continue to channel federal funds into searching for a cure, but I cannot
legitimize the problem through legislation.” He looked her straight in
the eyes. “I cannot vote against my conscience.”
“I understand,” she said softly. She
stood and motioned to a framed picture on his desk. “Is this your
“She’s very beautiful.”
He walked her to the elevator, then
returned to his desk and sat down heavily. Thank God she hadn’t gotten
Tonight was a full moon.
Phil Bradley pounded down the hall and
skidded to a stop in front of the bedroom. The door was open, and he could
make out the rough outline of the bed through the murky darkness. His hand
shaking, he reached and turned on the light.
The pink teddy fringed with white lace
was barely recognizable among the blood and gore that had once been his
wife. Her arms had been strapped to the bedposts.
A massive weight slammed into his back
and drove him to the floor. He tried to roll over, but strong, hairy arms
kept him pinned.
“Did you enjoy my performance this
afternoon, Senator?” The voice was deep and gravelly, yet plainly
feminine and unmistakably Jean Marlowe’s.
“You damn inhuman bitch!” he hissed
through lips that were mashed against the carpet.
“Now, now,” Jean Marlowe admonished.
“I tried to be nice, but you refused. More convincing persuasion was
necessary.” He could feel her hot breath on the back of his neck.
“Why should I help you? You’ve
already slaughtered my wife.”
“Oh, Senator, you still don’t get
it, do you? You’re going to do what I want because, like me, you won’t
have a choice.”
Understanding dawned, and he frantically
renewed his struggles, but she gouged her claws deeper into his flesh and
pressed him against the floor. Just before she sank her fangs into his
shoulder, she chortled, “Congratulations on becoming the first werewolf
in the United States Senate.”