Border Wolves

Fire Burn, Cauldron Bubble

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Prologue

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."

(Joseph Conrad) 

Spurred by a plethora of tales cascading throughout antiquity of death, destruction, mayhem, dismemberment, and an unfathomable list of evils and punishments slathered like butter on hot toast upon humankind by the supernatural; the unseen, yet often spoken of in hushed terms, those things that go bump in the night, monsters hiding under the bed daring a foot to free itself from the covers and venture a step to the floor on a dark night, ghosts, goblins, and gargoyles inhabiting old abandoned houses, vampires, ghouls, werewolves, witches and warlocks, sorcerers, and sundry other frightening, menacing, paranormal creatures which send screams of fright from young and old on Halloween, lurking in dark cemeteries, unlighted corridors, mausoleums, and locations "known" to harbor these harbingers of painful, excruciating, unimaginable death, the human animal carries charms or talismans of rabbit feet, silver crosses, amulets around the neck, bags of garlic, and an elaborate set of rituals to ward evil away.

Yet, for all of the stories and concerns, one would ask, are there any recorded deaths from any of those aforementioned evil doers or does the real evil, the most insidious cause of death lay within the real world rather than the supernatural, embodied in the human animal itself?

Oh, man how evil is thy nature when seeking a fortune through illicit, illegal means? Oh, man how can thee murder, according to the Center for Disease Control in the United States for the period ending December 30, 2016, 71,135 of your own kind by drug overdose, a life and death most destructive, more painful, and deleterious than those imagined by myth by fabled creatures?

Perhaps, just perhaps, it is time for those creatures to act and notice to those manufacturers and marketers of this death to heed well Shakespeare's warning,

Double double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn, cauldron bubble.

By the pricking of my thumbs

Something wicked this way comes. 

It comes on padded feet, gnashing teeth, scorching hell, and gives truth to fiction.

***

Chapter 1
Remote Lake 

"There's light enough for wot I've got to do."

(Charles Dickens) 

Mid-winter in the far north of Minnesota is cold, confining, and dark, if a person or creatures allows it to be viewed as such. By allowing or enabling winter to be cold, confining, and dark, the situation is made worse, almost unbearable, leading even to the point of contracting the disabling winter malady diagnosed and referred to as SAD or Seasonal Affective Disorder. It is the time of year, when feeling the condition creep silently, stealthily into one's life, to see release, engage in activities lifting one's spirits, giving stimulation to the emotional and physical attributes of life, body, and soul.

The moon, full and bright ordinarily, was partially obscured by drifting high clouds, giving the surrounding landscape of the deep woods a surreal appearance, lending to mortal man, if there were any present, seeing strange and fearsome creatures lurking in those deep, dark shadows cast by the tall timber, but for the forest animals which would normally be out and about during the night, there was sufficient light to illuminate where they were going or doing. The night air was crisp, cold, breath fogging from nostrils and mouths, the type of night man would hardly be out in, except for those on snow machines riding marked trails from one pub to the next as they frolicked in the night, anxious to try a brew at another public house before bar closing time.

 ***

"Evan? Are you awake?"

"No, Eric, I'm talking in my sleep," Evan Troutman spoke gently to his spouse, lying next to him in their bed. Although they'd been together for many years, ever since Eric Trempealeau came to International Falls to join and eventually purchased a law office, even though he was slightly, only slightly, perturbed to be wakened from a sound and glorious sleep, still spoke softly, yet teasingly toward Eric. "I was contemplating aloud, in my sleep, mind you, how I could end up a millionaire selling real estate."

"You silly old fart, you already are!" Eric gave him a small pat on the shoulder and snuggled closer to him. "It's been quite a year hasn't it, Evan my love?

"Just think, all these years we've lived together, who would've thought we could ever legally marry? Two old gay men married; really something!"

Evan shifted, somewhat uncomfortably in the bed, wondering where this conversation was going, especially this late at night. Puzzled, he turned slightly to face his husband.

"You didn't eat something disagreeable tonight at `The Birchwood' did you? Perhaps the poached salmon with lemon sauce?"

"No, I just woke up and for some reason I thought it was daylight shining in our bedroom window."

"It's the moon," Evan replied sardonically as he shifted again, intent on rolling over to his side and going back to the pleasant slumber interrupted just minutes before.

"Evan?" Eric began, but Evan sputtered disgustedly, "Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Putting your cold feet up against my bare ass!"

"I wanted to warm them."

"Then put some socks on----- please."

Giving Evan's buttocks a slight squeeze with one hand, Eric rejoined, somewhat contemplatively, "The contact did seem to firm these up somewhat."

"It's called `clenching' not `firming."

"Oh!"

Evan, satisfied Eric was heading off to slumber-land again since his dialogue of inquiry and sentimentality dribbled to a halt, much like cum from an orgasm seeping out the end of an expended cock, drifted off again, sleep treading in his direction, mind slipping into his body, seeking to allow recuperation of the aging man from the day's activities, began to relax and refurbish itself.

"Evan?"

Evan gave a surprised grunt of wakefulness, again, offering a groggy response. "Yes?"

"Did you ever think what life would be like if we hadn't encountered and made friends with Jessie and the Campbell Twins and all of their delightful, mysterious, and magical friends?"

"Eric, we already knew Jessie. You served as the Sutton Family lawyer for years, clear back to George, Jessie's grandfather and I was their real estate agent."

"I know, but if you hadn't sold the "Pines" resort to Art Campbell and if the Twins hadn't gotten hooked up with Jessie, we wouldn't have. Just think of all of the excitement and adventure we've had since."

Evan remembered quite well, beginning with Jessie's discovery of the brutal rape and murder of so many boys happening at the Peter's property. Jessie and his werewolf friends eliminated the menace, rescued Diondre Carlson, and eventually, Jessie bought the property, after the house mysteriously burned, to save it from becoming a tourist attraction and to memorialize the unknown boys who still might be buried on the property. Jessie and the Twins swore they had nothing to do with the fire and Eric, acting as their attorney, believed them and convinced law enforcement of it. The perpetrator of the deed was still unknown.

"How about the time Jessie and the Twins encountered the ATV riders and beat the living shit out of them?" Evan mused, bring a quick chuckle from Eric.

"Or when Jessie's cabin burned and it was proven it was the ATV riders later in the winter, on snow machines, who started it and it was all captured on trail cameras?"

Eric and Evan were saddened however, when Jessie thought he'd been abandoned by them, appeared at their house one late night and begged forgiveness from them. It was all a misunderstanding and explained. It was also the night the Averill Creek Pack, worried about Jessie, made an appearance at their door, were invited in, and when asked to shift to human so Eric and Evan could know who they were, did so in the living room. Standing before the two older gentlemen, the teens, in all of their naked glory, cocks, balls, and yes, even a female, provided them with such a sight!

"I think the most exciting time for us," Evan began, but was interrupted by Eric,

"and most dangerous."

"was," continued Evan, "the fight between the Averill Creek Pack and the Rogue Wolf and his pack of renegade murders and thieves."

Once Evan and Eric acknowledged the teen friends of Jessie were all "shifters" and earned their trust and respect, keeping all things about them in the strictest of confidence, and learning of the impending conflict, entered into the planning, gathering up yard sale silver flatware, buried the silver around Jessie's cabin to not only protect those inside of the barrier, but to serve as a trap for the marauders. The Averill Creek Pack, assisted by a larger wolf known only as the "Guardian" and Eric and Evan, defeated and killed the entire pack of miscreants.

"Wasn't it just like the Wild West," Evan mused, "as we roared our vehicle, horn blaring, shouting out the windows, into the yard during the battle, skidded to a stop, and leaped out firing shotguns loaded with silver shot-shells, creating death and mortal injury to those deviant assholes?"

"Indeed it was, Love, and all of the mess was cleaned up by the Grand Council."

The Grand council handled all things werewolf and were the ultimate arbitrators among the werewolf populations, worldwide.

"I just wish we could something about the current situation in our neck of the woods!" Eric sighed sadly.

"Yeah, Eric, too many deaths, too little help to investigate, and the bastards committing the mayhem escaping prosecution."

"Too many families ravaged, dismantled, divided, bodies reduced to mere shells of their former existence, and heartache. It just can't go on can it?"

The conversation between the two aging lovers idled for a short period, as the elderly gentlemen lay, embracing each other as the moon was again bright after the passage of a cloud.

"Any regrets on purchasing that piece of property on Remote Lake? Eric asked.

"No, the price was a little steep, but as you pointed out, we've done well and could afford it. Won't the boys be surprised when we tell them?"

"Are we going to tell them or just let it be a really big shock to their systems after we die?"

"Their names are on the deed, Eric, so they should know before we decide to leave this earth, don't you think? Mayhap for a graduation present?"

Purchasing more property was the farthest from Eric and Evan's minds in early November. They were busy celebrating the birth of Diondre and Annie's first born, a son, Zacharias, a strong, healthy beautiful baby, with the facial features of both parents, although carrying the darker skin color, although a shade or two lighter, than his father. Zacharias was a delightfully lovely blend of both. Surely, thought his God-fathers, Evan and Eric, he was the most magnificent, wonderful boy ever to be born and would grow into the brightest of the bright.

The entire Sutton Family would agree with them. Since Diondre came into their lives, fostered to Jim and Evelyn, becoming as another son to them and another brother to Jessie. The Bower's Family, especially Ted and Lynne Annie's parents, were equally proud since Zach was their first grandchild and new member of the family. Ted and Lynne's children, Michael, Lynnette, Robert, Allan, and Derrick were all over the youngster at his christening ceremony.

The pastor, from Wisconsin and friend of Art Campbell, adroitly put it, "all God's creatures receive His blessing and love- even unto the beasts of the field."

The Suttons thought the remarks were special and meant to extend God's blessings to all inclusive of individuals such as their gay son and his boyfriends and were quite moved by them, understanding there should be acceptance of those of differing beliefs and life styles. The Suttons had no idea the pastor was a werewolf or their son and his boyfriends, along with all the other friends he had, were as well.

Annie and Diondre, away at college during the school year, were still members of the Averill Creek Pack, currently a sub-pack of the Kabetogama Pack with Art Campbell as the Alpha. Diondre's father-in-law, Ted Bowers, was the Beta or second in command, while Ray Hayes was the Enforcer. Zach, by order of his birth, would automatically become a member of the Averill Creek Pack.

Eric and Evan long suspected something mystical, paranormal concerning Campbell and Associates and became more concerned when Jessie, Jase, and Tyler became boyfriends. The two older gentlemen were delighted when the boys and the entire Averill Creek Pack took them into their confidence and revealed themselves as "shifters." Since that time, Eric served as their legal counsel and Evan as a kind and wise uncle, available at all hours should they need them. Through them, Evan and Eric became acquainted to the wolf side of Campbell and Associates. As far as they knew, they were the only two humans in the area who kept the secrets of the two packs and would carry them to their graves.

 ***

The property they were discussing, as they'd driven down a county road heading toward it, came to Eric and Evan's attention in early September. Dave Cox, a long-ago friend of Evan's when they were rooming together at the University of Minnesota. Dave's actual name was Harold David Cox, but he preferred to called "Dave" or "David" rather than "Harold" or "Harry."

"Sounds rather suggestive or racy or braggadocios doesn't it," he admitted with a blush, "to say I'm Harry Cox. Makes people wonder if I do have one- hairy that is, since I do have a cock – at least since I did ten minutes ago when I took a leak. Did you want a peek, Evan, to verify my observation, you know for scientific purpose only, you understand?"

They became instant friends and roommates in the house where they lived throughout their college days. The downstairs consisted of three apartments and the upstairs, with a separate entrance, held two double rooms and three private bedrooms. The residents varied from year to year and semester to semester but Evan and Dave remained.

Evan did discover Dave had a cock and a very nice stiff one at that. They became friends and fuck buddies, not lovers, just young gay men filled with lust needing satisfying. Dave was gay and so was Evan, although both, given the times, were not out to their families or to the general public.

"There were only two others who roomed there, of all the housemates we had during the four years at the U of M who I remember. Tom Long, if you put the first name last and the last name first, pretty well described him."

Evan thought it was the biggest dick he'd ever seen until he witnessed Jase and Tyler Campbell naked. Their long, thick, uncut teen cocks hung heavily over two large, sagging gonads encased in their low-hanging smooth scrotums was a gay man's delightful eyeful and brought instant hardness to his nether regions. In fact, the entire male population of the Averill Creek Pack seemed to horse-hung, even the youngest of them.

Tom would often traipse into their room during the night, especially horny and fuck Evan, then Dave. Boned up and ready to thrust, Tom was a champion fountain of cum, spewing the insides of his partner with strong, jerking spurts of the gelatinous liquid firing from the slit at the end of his hose. As best as Evan could remember, other than being fucked by Tom, was his family were business people, but he didn't have a clue what type of business. He lost track of Tom as well.

The other individual, he remembered, only by face since the name escaped him, only lived with them for a semester. The young man was churlish, quiet, almost secretive, yet gave every indication he would be the last person anyone would want to fuck with, coming across as one mean son-of-a-bitch. Rumor around campus was if the kid was crossed, he'd lay in wait to beat the shit out of you, no holds barred and no quarter given. Evan wouldn't have put it past him to shoot or knife someone either.

"No scruples or care of any kind for other people. Seemed to have plenty of money though; from where I didn't have a clue."

Dave Cox came from money, Evan did not; Dave's family was into oil, Evan's real estate; Dave's family Republican, Evan's Democrat, but both Dave and Evan enjoyed a long, satisfying fuck and each other's company. After graduation, both with business degrees, Evan returned home and joined his father in their real estate business in International Falls, eventually taking over the business when his father retired and eventually passed away. Evan's grew the business and became rather well to do selling and re-selling lake front property as the market grew for it. He assumed Dave went home to work in the family business as well. They really didn't keep in contact over the years, for whatever reasons.

Evan was more than just a little surprised when he received a phone call from Dave saying he owned six hundred forty acres of forest land on Remote Lake south of Kabetogama not far, as the crow flies, from Orr and wanted to sell it.

"My grandfather bought it many years ago, my father inherited it when grandpa died, and I've had it since my dad died. It's relatively inaccessible and serves no purpose for me."

Evan discovered, as their conversation continued, Dave was never near the property, selling it sight unseen. Evidently there was some sort of clearing on a portion of the lakefront, from what Dave heard from the man who kept the easement road through public forest land and the lane into the property cleared of brush, and it was near a little used public boat landing. A town road led to the boat landing, from a county road, and the easement through public forest land was from the town road. There appeared to be one other parcel of private property on the lake, but Dave had no idea, or cared, who owned it.

"How much are you asking for the property?"

"One million, six hundred thousand dollars."

"That's a little steep for almost land-locked property."

"Tell, you what, Evan, I'll send you copies of the deed, abstract, easement agreement, gate key, and some aerial photographs of the property, along with anything else I have concerning the property. I'd really like to get shed of it!"

 ***

Evan sighed, his reminiscing interrupted by the approach of the easement road leading to the property. A small sign indicated a public landing lay straight ahead on the town road. Had they traveled straight ahead on the county road, it would've taken them to the other parcel of private property, but the town road veered off toward the boat landing. The easement through the public land was approximately one quarter of a mile in length before ending at the gate to Dave's property. Unlocking and swinging open the gate, the lane was about another quarter of a mile to the clearing shown on the photos. The lane was bumpy but well cleared of brush.

It didn't take Eric and Evan long to decide to make an offer for the property. They had the money and, if purchased, would ensure their favorite werewolves would have plenty of land free to run and hunt on, along with what Jessie already owned, free from human interference or observation. They offered one million two hundred eighty thousand, Dave countered with one million four hundred eight thousand, and they bought the property.

The decision to include Jessie first on the deed and then Jase and Tyler was a non-sequitur as far as they were concerned. Jessie had inherited several farms in Iowa from his grandfather George, the cabin and the land it sat on, as well as substantial trusts, including and educational trust. He also had a minor share in Sutton's Resort. He had sufficiency of funds, once he reached his majority, to maintain all the properties as well as paying the taxes on them.

Jason and Tyler Campbell were the most logical choice to include on the deed since they were mates to Jessie (in the werewolf world, but boyfriends in the human world). The boys intended on marrying soon after high school graduation. They had it worked out so either Jase or Tyler's name would appear on the license and certificate, but in reality they would be all be living together and sharing in the marital delights (which they already did). Eric also understood there'd be joint wills with survivorship provisions written for them. Not that it'd be needed since werewolves tended to live a very long time, but there was always an outside chance something tragic could happen such as a fight with a rival pack or with a rogue pack as they'd experienced.

"Oh well," Eric sighed conclusively. "I think we should announce the purchase as soon as all of the paperwork is completed and let them enjoy it for the rest of the winter and through the summer before some depart in the fall for college or whatever."

He looked from their bed out the window. "Dear me, the clouds are going to cover the moon and it will be dark again."

"There's light enough for what I want to do," murmured Evan, ducking his head under the covers and nuzzling his nose around in Eric's now grey pubic bush. Moving his head even lower, he sucked Eric's flaccid cock into his mouth and began massaging the head with his tongue.

Eric breathed deeply, pulling his stomach back, spreading his legs for better access, and expressed his pleasure by placing a hand lightly on Evan's head, encouraging him to continue his ministrations.

"God that feels so damned good, Evan."

In deed it did, the warm moist orifice with its flicking tongue and suctioning, bobbing action, soon brought Eric to a relatively stiff cock-stand, at least stiff enough for proper stimulation and eventual orgasm.

"Feels like the old soldier's musket can still point and aim," Evan said lifting for a moment from his bedtime treat.

"Yeah, but only good for one shot before it retreats behind the ramparts."

"Fire at will!"

To be continued...

Posted: 08/02/19