Friday, July 2, 2010

To the Werewolves, it was easy with their infrared sight, to spot the Circulator or the psychic

(‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 1)

To say that my family was ‘unique’ would have been an understatement. With Mum and Gran being Circulators; their bio-electromagnetic frequencies are in temporal flux so they hardly aged. Both my Mum and my Gran had the appearance of human women in their twenties. But their husbands, Dad and Grandfather didn’t mind this one bit. Since Dad, Grandfather and Uncle Julian were Lokoti Werewolves, they could live until they’re 200 years old. My 56 year old Grandfather looked like a man in his early forties as my 39 year old Dad had the appearance of a man in his mid twenties. As was the custom of our tribe except with my family, the Lokoti Werewolves outlived their human wives.

Whereas we lived on the hill, the Sabre’s (pronounced Sar-bra, if you ever want to see Declan’s Werewolf eyes glow then mispronounce his surname) lived in the central community of our tribal lands where the sports field, general store/ gas station, garage, meeting hall and small library/ school were. The Lokoti community centre was like a village primarily made up of residential homes on small streets, with simplistic gardens and greenhouses for families to grow their own fruit and vegetables. All of the buildings here were made from wood which came courtesy of the surrounding forest.

The Lokoti Tribal Lands were safely tucked away in a small corner of the vast Lokoti National Park in the Alaska Range. We were situated 4.5 hours north of Anchorage and 1.5 hours south of Fairbanks. The small township of Alma is 7 km’s away where before the War, the Lokoti kids went to school and families shopped in the supermarket there. However since the War, Alma like many towns or cities of this planet, either turned into a ghost town or a crime hotspot thanks to looting.

Aunt Susan and Gran helped run our make-shift school which primarily went from when you were 7 – 15 years old. But there were some kids like Derik and I, who continued our schooling by concentrating on different areas. Derik loved studying science and I just loved studying history, so our parents continued to tell us what additional books we could read. They even set us ‘assignments’ which we occasionally had to write up to show if we understood or not, the books which had been recommended.

“He doesn’t just look like his Great Great Grand Uncle, Mike Sabre but he has disposition too… maybe Derik will become a Medicine Man? Mike Sabre was a doctor.” Gran shrugged to Aunt Susan. She and Grandfather were especially close to Aunt Susan and her sons, as they helped the widow raise her young.

Aunt Susan was equally proud of her two boys, although they were as different from each other as chalk and cheese. Derik had brown hair, brown eyes and was academic, sensitive and easy to talk to. He had been my playmate ever since we were babies as our birthdays were only two weeks apart.

However Derik’s older brother Declan, was another story. He stopped going to school when he was 13 years old to become an apprentice mechanic instead. Declan is soon to turn 21 and he’s the rudest, most arrogant boy in the tribe… with dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a constant scowl. He bosses Derik around a lot, seeing himself as head of the family. The only people I’ve ever seen him be nice to, are adults such as his parent, my parents and to my grandparents. When Declan changed, the Lokoti Werewolf pack took him under their wing. By taking him hunting every full moon in the National Park, they taught the young European Werewolf to replace his craving for human flesh to animal instead.

When Lokoti Werewolves change they still look humanoid; as their muscles bulk up, their eyes change colour and glow, the nails on their hands and feet turn long and hard, like claws. Their teeth become elongated and sharp as they have lightening fast reflexes and supernatural strength. But when Declan changes, he completely morphs from man to beast. He looks like a huge, hulking, hairless wolf with his height and weight doubling; which means he’s bigger and stronger than the Lokoti Werewolf. His bright green eyes would glow in the dark and from the few times I’d seen them in Werewolf form, they still unnerved me.

The fifteen Lokoti Werewolves are highly esteemed members of the Lokoti tribe. Three of our nine Tribal Elders are Werewolves. The Lokoti Werewolves were seen as our guardians. World War Three occurred three years before I was born and from then, the Lokoti Werewolves have patrolled our tribal lands, keeping us safe from looters during the outside world’s sickness and lawlessness. They even fought foreign Werewolves who still feasted on human flesh, like the European Werewolf who killed Anthony Sabre and turned Declan.

Our tribe has become accustomed to the mish-mash of different breeds of Werewolves, or Circulators and other humans with special gifts. To the humans, it became easy to spot a Werewolf in the crowd due to their towering height and strong build. To the Werewolves, it was easy with their infrared sight, to spot the Circulator or the psychic, because of the auras they produced.

And me…? I’m nobody special, not really. I’m the daughter, granddaughter and niece of Lokoti Werewolves but that’s it. Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be a Circulator but I can’t circulate. I’m the last Circulator in all of human history, so my family says. My appearance is nothing out of the ordinary either. I’m 160 cm’s tall with typical straight, black Lokoti hair but I have my mother’s and my grandmother’s blue eyes. My skin wasn’t bronzed like the Lokoti natural skin colour either and neither is Mum’s. I think my mother and I get our colouring from my grandmother who is English.

Gran has bright blue eyes, pale skin and wavy, chestnut brown hair. Grandfather and Dad are either half or three-quarter Lokoti with the typical straight black hair. But Grandfather’s grandmother was Caucasian so he has her blue eyes. Nana, who is my Dad’s Mum, is Chinese-American so Dad has her pale skin and dark, sharp eyes. With my blue eyes, they were darker than my family’s for some reason. Maybe because my father’s Lokoti-Asian dark brown were mixed in?

“B!” I heard Mum call out.


“Dinner’s ready!”

I opened my bedroom door and skipped downstairs to take my place at the table. I found Dad was home from his meeting with the Tribal Elders and the pack and he helped Mum serve dinner. They shared the jobs around the house like cooking and cleaning in equal measure, which included raising their beloved only child.

“How are you B?” He smiled.

“Good thanks Dad. What’s for dinner?” I watched my parents serve up in the kitchen.

“Roast Duck and vegetables.” He answered. “We’ve got plenty of food here, it looks like we have enough leftovers for the next two nights.”

“I was expecting Derik would be staying for dinner.” Mum said.

“That boy’s got the appetite of a Werewolf alright, although he’s human.” He let out a laugh.

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