Wolfman | Chapter One

Wolfman

A Novel as told by Bek Rush

Written for JaNoWriMo

Chapter One::
in which viktor has a story told.


Whoooshh, a burst of flame came out of the fire-breather's mouth and nearly singed my head as I walked through the streets of London. It was one of the nights that the carnival was in town and I had snuck away that dark, wet night to go and have a peek at it. Mum wouldn't have approved, she didn't like the circus folk much but I needed to get out of the house. It was getting stuffy and cramped and quite frankly, claustrophobic with all of my siblings running around the place. I turned a corner and saw a group of kids sitting around a strange man with long, blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. A long white scar was the only thing that marred his perfect face, which looked almost angelic. My good ears picked up a story being told and I settled down on the outskirts. The man must have had pretty good hearing too, for as soon as I sat quietly down, he looked up from his carving and those electric blue eyes settled on me. I shivered and pulled my coat closer to my skin and ducked my head down, still listening.

The man, who I soon found out was Lestat of Paris, France, was telling a tale of Marie Antoinette, but instead of the boring text book story he turned it into something quite interesting. Almost like a fairy tale, with princes riding up on white horses, evil kings and queens, faithful generals, and of course the princess. A boy near my age raised up a hand to ask a question but Lestat kept on going. He seemed like a good story teller, but not a question answerer and only by the girl beside me who had been there from the beginnning of the story could tell me his name because she had listened well. The story continued on, parts of it warming and other parts sending chill bumps all along my skin and raising the hairs on the back of my neck. A part of me felt the need to go back home to my safe, warm, claustrophobic house in Church Street, but the other part wanted to stay and find out the fate of the fine Princess Marie, with whom I felt I knew by heart, just from Lestat's fine story telling.