Wanton Hearts - Chapter 3

When the spirit of the wine had passed, Zac awakened. He was fully alert now as he investigated the place.

Trees surrounded him. His eyes scanned the dark skies. There was the full moon. Suspicion started to grow inside him.

'You scorned my beauty, Zac! There is no man who had turned away from Olga Quintanar! As punishment, you shall be a prisoner inside that painting!'

He really was inside the painting! He thought he was just having a bad dream!

'Let me out of here!' Zac did not hear his voice. He heard only his wolfish howls.

'And you will remain a werewolf forever and ever! Ti hi hi hi hi!'

'Damn you! Damn you!' He kept howling angrily. He rammed crazily against the mirror-like barrier again and again but he bounced back farther than the last. Until he found himself in the middle of the thick and lush forest.

Zac was exhausted. All he could do was to howl long and loud. He hoped that his pack could hear him. But only the deafening silence responded to his pleas.

Zac was starving and thirsty but he would hunt for food when he knew the forest. He was sleepy again.

After several hours, his eyes opened to darkness. He relied on his sharp sense of smell. He sniffed close to the ground. After adjusting to the small illumination under the thick trees, Zac could see his surroundings.

The place where he had rested was a clearing with a thick vegetation. There were rocks strewn around. He explored further where he found dead trees. He even discovered a cave.

Zac kept himself busy to forget his predicament. He chased rabbits for food. Using his snout, he pushed the logs together to the mouth of the cave.

He located a small body of water near at the foot of a mountain. The basin was fed by a thin wall of falling water. Its outlet was a meandering stream. He splashed around for a while.

Because he had been there for hours, his night sight had adapted. The place was a paradise. There were a lot of fruiting trees. Small animals were in abundance, too.

At first, he was wondering why he had not changed form. His werewolf shape should transform back to his human self.

He looked above the trees. There was the culprit. A full moon seemed cackling with sick amusement. It was always night in the painting.

'And you will remain a werewolf forever and ever! Ti hi hi hi hi!' The voice of Olga Quintanar echoed again and again.

Zac gave long yowls of grief and loneliness. He did not know how many days or nights he had fallen asleep keening and bawling. He was so depressed. He was not eating. He was not drinking. He just wanted to die.

One night, the whole place was shuddering. He tried to stand up but he was too weak. He kept jostled around.

'It's too dark!' Zac investigated the mirror-like barrier. The painting was not in the same room. He squinted and made out a dark cloth.

"Here! Let's place it here!"

"Aye!" There was a crash. "Oops!"

"Careful!"

Zac heard the rough voices of the men. He let out a loud howl but he had no strength. Only a small wail escaped his throat. A puppy's yelp was louder than his yap.

He was suddenly injected with the will to live. He hunted down rabbits for food. After eating, he practiced his howling.

He had no watch. He had no calendar. He had no way of knowing what time or day was it. He had let go the notion to learn how to measure the hours. Whenever he got hungry, he put a mark on the wall of the cave. Until he had marked the walls and the ceiling.

Zac did not hear the men with the rough voices again. He could be sleeping when the painting was carried again. The shudder did not happen again. The dark cloth had remained on place. He could not see through the barrier where was the location of the painting.

'Oh, damn! Damn you to hell, Olga Quintanar!' He kicked the barrier many times to let go his frustration. He tried scratching it but to no avail. The glass wall stayed pristine.

As time went by, he had lost interest. He traveled around the forest and beyond. He had seen the shadows of wild boars and deer roaming around. As he reached the mountain, he unearthed gold nuggets and rough diamonds.

Zac grimaced to himself.

'How can I call myself lucky to have found these treasures? Gold and diamonds are useless in this captivity!' He howled his lonesomeness.

He moped around morosely for a short while. He took a swim at the basin of water. He yowled loud and long. The sounds echoed unsatisfyingly.

'If there's an echo, I'm still inside the painting!' he thought gloomily.

Broodingly, Zac forced himself to work. He carried the nuggets inside his mouth and traveled by foot to the cave. He needed to focus his attention on the path because the rocks were loose. One wrong step would send him towards the ravine.

He lost himself on the collection of gold and diamonds. Each time he woke up, he would start on lugging them in his muzzle. He would bite as many as he could.

Zac was beginning to become used to life as a wolf but with the intelligence of a man. He made fire through rubbing two straight twigs. He placed the fire at the entrance of the cave to deflect wild animals from entering.

When bathing at the basin of water, he would look at his reflection. The full moon was always reflected on the water. He was as handsome as ever. His coat was shiny. His eyes were intelligent. He was lean but muscled. A real Alpha but without a pack...

Zac remembered his gang. They were fifty, more or less. They laughed, quarreled, and loved each other. He liked to think he was a fair leader. No favoritism. No taking sides. He was always in the middle.

But his time had ended abruptly.

'I hope my pack is alright. Uno is a good alpha although lacking on the brainy side. Java will do him right. I am blessing you, Uno and Java! Guide the pack very well!' Zac howled poignantly.