SNAFU: Wolves at the Door

As they passed an outcropping of mossy boulders the werewolf charged out of the gloom and smashed Cole across the head with a clawed hand, knocking his helmet off. Stunned, Cole reeled back, slipped on the sodden grass, and fell. His wet hands lost their grip on the Thompson and it skittered down a gully out of reach.

Wheeling, the beast pounced on Rosenthal, throwing him down and dashing the pistol from his hand. Broken spectacles fell off. The monster dove for his throat; he tried to block it and cried out as jaws clamped like a vise on his forearm. They grappled.

Rosenthal frantically fumbled for anything he could use as a weapon. Desperate fingers found the mechanical pencil. He stabbed the werewolf in the eye as hard as he could.

The creature howled and recoiled. It tried yanking the pencil out, but let go sharply as if just touching the pencil burned. It staggered a few steps before its knees buckled and it fell headlong.

Cole came to. He gaped at the dead werewolf and gave Rosenthal a questioning look.

“Sterling silver,” said Rosenthal.

They watched the matted fur fade away. Claws, triangular ears, and the canine snout retracted, muscles shrank to normal proportions, and the carcass slowly became human again.

Rosenthal stared numbly at the bite marks on his trembling arm. He felt dizzy and nauseous. He looked at Cole. “You know what to do.”

Cole nodded grimly and got to his feet. He picked up the Colt and made sure a round was in the chamber. Then he aimed at Rosenthal and pulled the trigger.

Project Lupine Brian W. Taylor

An alarm blared – the nasal tone repeating over and over like a hammer beating nails into Rolf Alfredsson’s head. He heard but pretended like he didn’t.

“Yo, Red, get your ass up, man.”

Rolf groaned before opening his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Red?”

Lou ‘Sully’ Sullivan smiled, his teeth like headlights cutting through the darkness. “Shit, man, I can’t help your ginger complexion, or that the name’s already stuck.”

A light clicked on reflecting harshly off the white of the floor and walls. Everything was white in TriGenex’s classified laboratory, the actual labs, the living quarters, and even the bathrooms.

“C’mon though, for real. Dot will have our asses if we’re last to respond.” Sully rummaged around his footlocker and pulled out a fresh uniform – classic, black BDUs, with the TriGenex logo on the breast and back.

“Fuck Dot. And fuck you.” Rolf looked at the clock; he had only slept two hours. They weren’t paying him enough for this shit. Well, maybe they were, but that was beside the point. This job was supposed to be his ticket to early retirement.

A multitude of footsteps rushed along the hallways of the living quarters as scientists, technicians, and security personnel scrambled like ants summoned by their queen toward their duty stations. In this case, their queen was project lead Doctor Cecily Sturgess, a woman who was about as joyful as a dip in a frozen lake. She cared about her experiments and little else.

Something had to have gone wrong with the latest experiment if the queen had put out the call.

Rolf was beginning to think taking the security job at TriGenex had been a mistake. In truth he had only been employed a little over a month but in that short amount of time he had seen some ungodly shit – shit that already had him pondering early termination of his contract. Grunts like him weren’t supposed to ask questions or pay attention. In fact, they were paid to do the opposite. Rolf had always asked too many questions during his time in the United States Army; they had politely suggested he take his talents elsewhere despite his exemplary service record. His time at TriGen was turning out to be the sequel to a movie he wished he had never auditioned for in the first place.

Both he and Sully were suited, booted, and strapped in two minutes. They hurried from their quarters and followed the green line along the floor until reaching Lab One.

Consisting of five floors built into the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, the complex was shaped like a giant hourglass. Only the offices of the top floor were visible, while recreational, exercise, and cafeteria facilities dominated the second. The third and fourth floors housed the labs and associated personnel. Nobody ever talked about what lay below on five. Rumor had it that’s where they kept the test subjects.

Up until today, Rolf had considered himself lucky to have been assigned to the genetics half of the facility. He mostly stood around and watched over the scientists while they conducted their experiments on witless death-row inmates. Those same fool inmates had signed their lives over to science and their families received a nice sum of money. It seemed harmless enough until Rolf had seen what was left of the last batch of experiments. He guessed it would be better than waiting around in a cage to die though.