The Legend of the Loup Garou

by Nicola
(South Australia)

For a moment everything went black, only to explode into colour seconds later. He groaned, and rolled to the left, his right arm reaching up in an attempt to grasp something firm, solid, to stop this mad descent down the cliff. For a moment, he was able to lie still. Sparkles of coloured bubbles, swum before his blurred eyes. The pain in the back of his head was sharp, and a warm wetness trickled through his hair onto the black rock beneath.

As the giddiness subsided, he tried to open his eyes again. The world was no longer swaying, the sky above, invisible, cloaked in thick grey cloud. Water, warm from the sun, poured onto his face, soaking into his clothes, making the volcanic rock on which he lay, slippery and more dangerous. Slowly, he sat up and raised his hand, feeling carefully behind his head. Yes, it was bleeding. Quite profusely in fact, and the lump was as big as a tennis ball. He knew he needed help, but where from? The helicopters would be grounded in this weather. What had he been thinking? What had possessed him to explore the upper most points of the island in the middle of a typhoon? And what the hell was that thing in the jungle? Some kind of hairy wild man, with the palest blue eyes he had ever seen. He could swear it snarled at him. He cursed himself for his reaction. He had spent too much time listening to island legends of loup garou. "There's no such thing as a bloody werewolf you idiot!" He muttered to himself. But his gut instinct had been different, causing him to stumble backwards, unaware he was so close to the cliff edge.

He peered down from his narrow perch. It was probably easier to climb down. The beach was certainly closer than the edge from which he had fallen. The only problem was the smattering of jagged rocks below. If he fell … he didn't want to complete that thought.

Suddenly, the decision was taken from him as, forced by the torrential rain, loose rocks, soil and trees from above started their increasingly forceful descent. There was nothing left to hold on to, he had to go with the flow. Tossed about, battered, bruised and bleeding he was carried and dumped unmercifully onto the beach below. Lady Luck was still with him, he had landed between two rocks onto the packed coral below. At least he had no further to fall.

As quickly as the rain started, it stopped and the burning afternoon sun of an African island, had him dry within moments.

The pain in his head still thundered, but he stumbled north, he knew that to the south and west there was only ocean. If he kept going, he would reach one of the resorts soon. He knew he was close when he came across a bedraggled pack of the wild dogs that roamed the island. They would stay here, lurking, waiting for nightfall to raid the hotel bins. The armed security guards surrounding the resort, kept them at bay during the day.

The pain bludgeoning his head became too intense, his vision grew increasingly blurred and thirst burned in his throat. "Just a quick rest. Just a little nap." He told himself before lying down under the shade of a palm tree.

Dreams of wolves filled his mind, snarling, leaping out of the jungle, he could feel warm breath upon his cheek, tongues rasping, teeth gnawing at his flesh. Then he was running. Running with them. He was strong. He was fast. He shared with them the taste of flesh. Flailing about in fear, he awoke. Night had fallen. Faces, strange and dark hovered over him in the moonlight, voices musical in a local French dialect, not a word of which he could understand. They caught on to his bemusement. "Anglais? English?"

"Yes. English. I … need to find my hotel. It's further down the beach."

"No English. You are not on the beach." He looked around. He was back in the jungle. Fear gripped him. How had he ended up here? Wild dogs lay around the clearing, licking blood from their paws.

"You are hurt. We take care of you. You stay with us now." Strong black arms helped him to his feet, either side of him they took his weight.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I need to see a doctor. I need to go to my hotel."

"A doctor cannot help you, Englishman." A toothy grin smiled at him in the dark, the man's eyes turned to the palest of blue. "No. You must stay with us. You have seen into the eyes of a loup garou. You join us in the curse. You are one of us now."

As the words echoed in his head, he realised the legends were true