Ed's eyes flick between you. "Yeah... okay. Um... so, the short version of this story is, I spend a heap of time online, and have been pretending to be a hunter in some chat rooms. And, get this, someone posted this just ten minutes ago." He clears his throat. "'How dangerous are werewolves when the moon's full?'"
"That's not—" you begin.
"No. Listen. That's the question, but the interesting part is the answers." He shows you the screen and begins scrolling through the responses. Most are exactly what you'd expect.
Fuck around and find out.
Really dangerous!!! But, they're a rural problem, and a rare one at that. You don't need to worry unless you live in the forest or on a farm. Paint a cross onto your cattle to keep them safe.
I read a thing written by a man who says he married a werewolf. Apparently they're totally fine as long as they recognise you as family.
Werewolves aren't real, idiot. They're just a lie to keep us off the trail of REAL paranormals like the lizard lords.
But, then, right at the bottom of the page is a photo. It's a sales docket for sleeping pills... a lot of sleeping pills. The caption: I guess this answers this question.
"Okay," you nod. "So someone's noticed. That's good news."
"Yes," Ed's smile is sly. "But here's my idea." And then, after a flurry of clicks, swipes, and taps the post vanishes.
"What did you do?" the Alpha asks.
"I deleted it," Ed answers happily. "It's really easy, if you know how. Hacking 101. I didn't even need my laptop."
"Why would you want to delete it?" The Alpha asks, clearly frustrated. "We're trying to spread this bullshit, not clean it up."
"Yeah, exactly," Ed smiles. "What's the quickest way to spread a rumour?"
"Pretend it's a secret," you guess.
Ed nods. "Exactly."
A new message pops up in the chat room.
hey. wut happened? why'd that post go away?
What post?
It was about werewolves buying sleeping pills. I thought it was bullshit. But now it's gone.
Did the admin delete it?
I AM the admin.
"I'll give them a couple of minutes then delete this conversation too," Ed says mildly. "That'll really get them excited. But, honestly, the fact that it's even made it online means Blackwell must know. His spies would have to be really shit at their job not to pick up on this. Hopefully, he'll get wind of us deleting comments too. That should really get him excited."
"Okay, great," the Alpha growls. "But what are the odds Blackwell will actually take the bait and show up this full moon?"
Ed shrugs. "Fifty fifty."
The Alpha blinks. "For real?"
Ed shrugs again.
"Are you being serious right now? You think there is a fifty percent chance he'll fall for this?
One more shrug.
"Let's assume he will," you say.
The Alpha nods. "Okay... fuck. Yes. You're right, Gideon Mercer. He's coming. He's coming. That fucker thinks we're too dumb to do something like this. He'll be here." His eye glints a bright, inhuman yellow. "And then we'll give the bastard a proper werewolf welcome." He pivots to face the pack. "I hope you lot heard that! We're hunting this full moon!"
The pack's howls flood into the air, louder than even the moon.
hunthunthunthunthunt
ripripripripripriprip
killkillkillkillkillkillkillkill
The Alpha joins the chorus.
Together. Strong. Pack.
And then, softer, out loud.
"For Alek."
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