The Whiskey Wolf Curse

 Tonight was a full blood moon on November 1st; Samhain(sow’in) high holiday. 

Sandy Sulivan was good friends with Tim, Mark, and Adam. At least enough so to convince them to help him tonight with a blood magick curse.

“Where did you get this Rabbit?” Mark asked; frustrated his turn to carry the large cage for the large rabbit seemed to last longer than his friends’ turns. 

“I stole it from that pet store I told you about” Sandy replied, “It’s part of the spell now. The pet store wasn’t caring for its animals so I stole this one and released all the others. It was almost too easy to disable their security cameras and unlock their doors.”

“You’re an amazing hacker but if we’re going to build a website together we have to work together…” Tim started to ramble about the specifics of the business plan for the dating site/app they were planning on building together. 

“Here, carry tonight’s sacrifice,” Mark handed the cage to Tim, “we’ve got to appease Sandy’s blood lust before he comes back down to planet earth to make more definite plans with definite results.”

“This will work, I’m sure of it. If ever something like this could work under this moon would be the right time.” They walked on in silence for a while. Sandy and Adam were gay; Mark and Tim were bisexual. They were good friends who often saw each other naked, but rarely got sexual with each other. Less now that Tim had a girlfriend who thought he was straight.

They’d met when they were all on the same High School swim team. They’d always pushed each other to be better in a way where others might mistake their friendship for hate. Really, Mark was the glue that held them all together. The group had almost fallen apart after Sandy and Adam had dated for a short time then had a bad break up that almost ended their friendship. Mark was the one who’d told them all that racing alone is madness and if they wanted to race enemies better, they should have friends they could play with and race with. They had a special fishing trip with just the four of them and promised to be friends forever who gathered as a complete group regularly.       

Sandy was the one whose idea it was to meet every full moon to get drunk together. The Whiskey Wolves they called themselves. 

Now they were hiking through the Colorado rockies and were thankful for the unseasonably warm weather. The ritual didn’t have to be done naked but they all felt like it should be done naked.

“So the intention is to kill Yoweri Museveni?... Do you think it’s right to hold just him responsible for the whole country’s homophobia?” Adam broke the comfortable silence in a comfortable way. They all loved his mix of tenacity and tenderness. Each Whiskey Wolf loved themselves much and loved their friends more than themselves. Together, they were a dangerous combination. 

“Well, you know I’m against public execution,” replied Sandy, “but if witches have the power to move shadows in the shadows I do feel like they should. And he’s responsible for enough of the murderously violent homophobia there that the justice of the community will pass through us without turning us hateful. We won’t be murdering him, we’ll just be opening the gates for the spirits that already want him dead.”

This thought hung in the air around them as they walked deeper into the mountains. Eventually the trail was barely a trail and they went off it just around one bend to set up camp; not in view of the trail but not so far off it that it would be hard for their hung over asses to find in the morning. 

Like they’d done for each of their camping trips, they worked as a single unit as they formed a stone circle for a fire pit and began to gather and chop firewood.

“When do we eat?” Tim asked the group as Adam began to kindle the fire. 

“When do we drink? Is what I’m thinking.” Mark had decided to restrict his drinking to just with this group and was starting to feel the craving.

“I’ve got crackers, cheese, and jerky here,” Sandy said, rifling through his bag, “I’ve also got whiskey for tradition and to honor the blood moon I got a bottle of strawberry moonshine.”

“Snacks, please!” Tim asked, holding out his hand. Sandy took out the two large bottles and handed the bag to Tim. “Just don’t eat all the carrots or at least give a couple to the rabbit before you do.”

“Don’t we want it to die in fear?”

“Yea, fear but not hunger”

“I’m going to die of hunger if I don’t eat at least half of the supplies”

“You won’t get drunk with us right if you’re too full so take it easy”

“I know how to drink, but also we just walked up a mountain and I need energy to call the spirits,” Tim chowed down on some snacks but stopped just after hunger and just before full. He then whipped his hands in the dirt and reached for the bottle to take his first swig. Everything was just right. The fire became a blaze just as the sun was setting. The rabbit was crunching on a carrot; oblivious to its fate. The boys began to unwind and chatter like they’d always done; each one comfortable with taking the friendship to the new level of animal sacrifice. 

“Alright, let’s change.” Sandy had taken the lead for tonight, and the others were fine with it.

“Together or separate?” Mark asked

“Separately tonight. Just wolf skin and boots. It’s a warm enough night and a big enough fire.” So they left the rabbit cage sitting by the fire as they went off in different directions, each with their own backpack to change out of their human clothes and into their wolf witch habit. They each had a wolf skin that covered half their face and went down like a cape to cover half their back. Tonight they’d wear just that and shoes.  

Sandy was already drunk enough to feel the heaviness of his body. As he changed he thought about his recent trip to Uganda. His step dad was from there and had a brother there that his whole family had recently gone to visit. Sandy had always liked his step dad, but hadn’t expected to fall in love with his step cousin. Akello had been a lot like Adam but different in all the right ways. He was shy and sweet and had a vulnerability that Adam never had. 

They thought the affair had been secret, but Akello had kept some pictures on his phone that his mother found when snooping through his phone. His own mother turned him into the police. 

Just after getting back to Colorado, Sandy had found out about Akello’s arrest. He was completely distraught with shame and grief. Was this innocent young man suffering because the witch hunt had caught the wrong witch?!

Sandy had insisted his stepdad help him call the Ugandan jail that held Akello immediately. His step dad didn’t know the whole story but was happy to help Sandy get in touch with Akello.

Sandy didn’t understand the language but saw Ron’s usually sunny disposition fall to grief and his fear became palpable, “What is it?... What is it Ron?”

“Here, I found someone who speaks English” Ron handed Sandy the phone.

“Hello?...”

“Yes, hello. Are you calling about Akello the homo?”

“Yes. Please, can I speak with him?”

“No. Sorry no you can not. Akello the homo was beaten to death yesterday. Homos don’t last long here. They don’t belong here and the others know it.”

The matter-of-fact bigotry and cruelty shook Sandy to his core. Ron and Sandy’s mother had cried with Sandy for half a day. But they had gone back to their productive lives; Sandy’s anger craved the destruction of the hate that claimed the life of the most gentle man he ever knew.

Sandy was fully changed just as he started to hear the yips and howls of his friends. Mostly naked and hardly human, Sandy walked out of the woods. 

They danced, wrestled, and chased each other between well timed shots of alcohol. Eventually Sandy felt drunk enough to feel the wild inside him and let out a blood curdling howl that called the spirits to him. The others knew it was time and the circle closed around the fire. 

“Blood of my blood, feed this fire to curse my enemy” Sandy’s voice was deep and gutteral. 

“Who speaks for the people?” The others said in unison as they slowly circled the fire.

“I speak for the people”

“Who is that rabbit?”

“This rabbit is Yoweri Museveni”

“Yoweri Museveni… Yoweri Museveni… Yoweri Museveni… Yoweri Museveni…” The others chanted his name and continued to chant as Sandy reached into the cage and took the rabbit by the scruff of its neck.

“Yoweri Museveni! For your violence against the gentle you will burn in hell as this rabbit's body will burn in this fire!” He took the blade that was ritualistically placed in front of the fire. He held down the frantic rabbit and slit its throat as he looked into its eyes. In the corner of his eyes he saw shadows lengthen and take form. They danced with his friends; some human; some rabbit; some half and half. As the life faded from the animal in his hands a single shadow stretched through the fire and took form just on the other side. An evil human with an evil rabbit head looked at him with red eyes, “Ssay hiss Naame.”

“Yoweri Museveni” he whispered back, then threw the body into the fire and joined his friends in a wild dance that lasted until the early hours of the morning. Tonight things had been moved. They all hoped they’d been moved with enough power to avoid personal repercussions.