I'm Lycan This

Ah, another tale from the twisted corrider that is my mind. I certaintly you enjoy this supernatural tale. Believe me, I'm going to enjoy writing it.

A tavern on a small town usually draws patrons to it like bees to honey. But today was Sunday and thus, a lot of the townspeople of Molyneaux opted to spend the evening indoors with their families, either reading the Bible or discussing the day' sermon. Of course, there were a few bachelor men who, being single, desired the company that could only be found in fellow bachelors. And naturally, there were the "serving girls," who also earned extra money by pleasing the men parading around the place, their shrill voices flutering through the smokey atmonsphere. But to a pair golden eyes that observed the whole scene, nothing was worth paying attention too.

The owner of the golden eyes was a young girl who was probably no older than thirteen or fourteen. She had long chestnut hair that went well with her odd golden eyes and she was quite small for her age. Nonetheless, there was an aura of strength about her; something that said she could not be taken advantage of. However, the bartender paid the girl no heed. He knew what she was about; he had seen her cozy up to men and then lead them away outside. The large man behind the counter shuddered; the girl was just a child, for Heaven's sake! What was she doing seducing men?

The girl sitting alone by the fire, however, ignored the bartender's stares and studied the few patrons with a practiced eye. Once again, not one of the men would be of use to her tonight. She had not fed in a week and she was ravenous.

However, much her surprise, the tavern's door opened and a man walked in. Or rather, the man waddled in, as there was no way he could walk with all that excess fat handing off his obese frame like bread dough. The girl's golden eyes lit up in anticipation; it seemed her luck had changed.

"A pint of ale, if you please," the fat man said and the bartender complied.

"Where're you from, stranger?" he asked, as he drew the pint from the large barrel behind him. The fat man grunted.

"The village of Lynne. Tiny little place; I came here lookin' for a wife. Are there any women available?" The bartender chuckled.

"Naw, most women around here are married. Come back in a generation; then you'll have your pick of girls." The bartended didn't bother to explain that while he was waiting, the stranger could do with loosing a few pounds; girls weren't into fat men anyway.

Meanwhile, the lone girl had seen enough. The man was single, lonely, and very well-fleshed. Now all she needed to do was get him outside. Standing up, she glided over to where the blobby man sat, her long black skirt whispering over the oak floors. She reached out and placed a slim hand on the man's sweaty shoulder. He looked up at her, surprised.

"Are you lonely?" she asked in a soft, sweet little voice. Instantly, the man's pudgy features brightened.

"Why, yes, I am," he said, grinning lustfully. The girl smiled back.

"Well then, if you come with me, I'll ease your pain for you. I'll make all that loneliness fly away." As she spoke, she reached out and brushed a few strands of greasy red hair away from the man's eyes. He was hooked!

"Where too?" The girl smiled coyly, beckoning him with one finger. "This way." The fat man followed her like a love-sick puppy and the bartender rolled his eyes in disgust. Honestly, what was the world coming too? A girl her age working as a self-employed prostitute? She'd be lucky to live another year.

But it was the huge man who should have been fearing for his life. Once outside, the girl led him to a dark alleyway between two houses, which was still and cool, even during nights in July.

"You wanna do it here?" the fat man asked, his nose twitching as the rank smell of the alley hit him hard.

"But of course." He could not longer see the girl, but he could feel her hot breath on the back of his throat. She had apperently snaked around behind him.

"Wow. You're different from other girls."

"You have no idea." Her voice was still soft, but it seemed different now, as though there was a dark undertone to the otherwise seductive words.

"But why in an alley?"

"So no one sees us."

"Why not a bedroom at an inn or at the tavern."

"Too risky."

"For what."

"You'll find out." The fat man gulped; for an unknown reason, he was suddenly very, very nervous.

"Say, what's your name? There was a slight rustling to his left and suddenly the girl was standing in front of him. He could see her golden eyes; they were glowing in the darkness. But there were no fires of passion burning in them; only a strange kind of hunger like that of a wild animal. The girl smiled, displaying a set of teeth that looked like those of a wolf.

"I am Lycana."

Author's note: Lycana's name is pronounced Lie-KEEN-na. But when the "a" is removed, it' pronounced Lie-can. What's the significance of Lycan? I'm sure you'll figure it out.