The First Age

Continued from A Date...Maybe?

((Closed for now))

Calvin entered the bar. It had been a bad day to say the least. Things had started to look up between him and Sierra, only to be smashed to bits at the end. Snow was dead and something happened to Calvin. All the anger inside – anger at the injustice of it all and anger at himself for being too weak to help – had caused something to snap. A darkness had settled over him.

Calvin had tried to administer justice. He sought out the man responsible for Snow’s death, hoping to make things right with Sierra. He had even caught up with the man, but the wolf in him had calmed down. He was Calvin Johnson, and Calvin Johnson couldn’t kill. He left the man’s residence and sought out Dawn Wind. The wolf responded but was furious with him. It seemed like even the wolves were going to abandon him.

The bar was nice, but not the best in the city. He avoided Chesterfield’s on the chance that Connor or Ayden would see him. He didn’t want company. He wanted to be with himself…and with whiskey. Calvin had removed his contacts and he glared at people as he passed. It was clear he wanted to be left alone and others found his golden eyes intimidating. They gave him a wide berth as he made his way to the bar.

The bartender approached and before he could ask Calvin ordered. “Whiskey – and leave the bottle.”


The bartender frowned at Calvin but did as requested. Calvin took a shot and refilled his glass, downing that one as well. People left him be as he sat nursing his drink. He kept silent and kept thinking about his worthlessness. He was helpless and a burden to anyone he came across. At least he had whiskey.

The drink began to affect him. He could feel it, but kept drinking. The bottle was full when he had ordered it, but it was now about halfway done. A woman approached and sat down on the stool next to him. She had likely arrived after he had because she had approached him when others gave him a wide berth. Calvin didn’t look at her or acknowledge her presence.

“Hi”
the woman said, sounding quite cheerful – a little too cheerful for Calvin’s taste.

“Go away,”
Calvin said, taking another drink. He didn’t look up at the woman; he instead kept his eyes focused on the label of the whiskey bottle.

The woman paused for a minute before replying, “It just looks like you could use some company. Can’t I just talk to you?”


Calvin almost growled. She was the type that “wanted to help” him and probably wouldn’t go away. “Fine,”
he said with some contempt in his voice.

“What’s wrong, honey,”
she asked sounding concerned.

“None of your damn business,”
Calvin said, still not looking up.

The woman sighed, “You’re kind of cute. Bet you’d be cuter if you smiled.”


That caused Calvin to look up at her. She was – well – quite attractive and also dressed quite provocatively. What little she did wear shouldn’t have actually counted as an outfit, and Calvin’s imagination, feeling quite drunk, went wild with what she might look like underneath. Had he been sober and thinking clearly, he would have realized she was a prostitute.

She had shoulder length blonde hair and was smiling at him. Calvin turned back to his drink and finding his glass empty, filled it again. “I don’t have much to smile about.”


The bartender was watching the exchange, frowning, but didn’t say anything. “There’s always something to smile about. I’ll be right back ok?”


The woman stood and went behind him and paused. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “Stay here, ok? I’ll be back soon.”


The kiss burned on his cheek and brought images to his mind that would have been unwelcome sober, but in his drunken state he savored them, but even still he couldn’t go against himself. He couldn’t take advantage of this woman for his own pleasure.

The bartender finally spoke bringing Calvin out of his thoughts, “You know she’s a hooker right? She just wants your money.”


It took a minute for the words to register in Calvin’s mind. She was a prostitute? That changed things – there was no way he’d fall for that.
Calvin didn’t answer the bartender. Instead he reached for the bottle to refill his glass again, but almost fell off the stool.

“That’s it, I’m pulling the plug on you man,”
the bartender reached for the whiskey bottle, but Calvin grabbed it first and growled. The bartender stepped back and prepared to call the bouncer.

“It’s ok,”
the woman said returning. “I’ll take care of our friend here. He’s had a rough day. Let me help him.”


The bartender raised his hand – a gesture that seemed to say “I’m washing my hands of this matter” and turned to help other customers.

Calvin could smell her perfume – his heightened sense of smell unaltered by the alcohol. Calvin began to speak to tell her that he wasn’t interested, but she spoke first.

“You know now. It’s my job to help people like you – to make the pain go away – to make you feel good.”
She began massaging his shoulders, her hands moving down his arms and over his chest. “Let me help you. Let me make you smile.”


Her hands went down his stomach and she touched his leg as she kissed his cheek once more. His brain began to rationalize it. She could help him feel better. She could make him smile – and he wouldn’t be taking advantage of her; it was nothing but business to her. Part of him argued against this, but the alcohol was louder – the depression and booze overriding the part of him that said that this was a bad decision.

Calvin pulled out his wallet and dropped several bills on the counter, “Will that be enough for the bottle?”
the bartender grimaced at the amount of bills, but nodded.

Calvin dropped a few more bills and the bartender’s tension lessened. Calvin picked up the bottle of whiskey and the woman took his empty hand and led him out.
Edited by Calvin, Aug 19 2014, 11:41 AM.

A few days later...

"Hi Amelie, I won't be in today. I'm sick."


"Alright, Cal. I'll let Mr. Volachov know. Feel better soon, ok!"


Calvin hadn't technically lied to his boss's receptionist. He had thrown up this morning - twice - and his headache was bad enough that it was hard enough to stand, but Calvin knew that if Viktor Volachov knew he was staying home because he went to a party on a Sunday night and was fighting off the hangover, Calvin would probably lose his job. Calvin wasn't worried about it. He just didn't want to work today.

Calvin heard the bedroom door open and close and then the door to his apartment opened an closed and Calvin was glad that he didn't have to face the woman he had woken up to this morning. He didn't remember bringing her home and didn't remember her face either. Doubtless she felt the same as she began her walk of shame back to her own home.

Calvin had learned that the alcohol and women made the pain go away - but only while he was being active. The morning after the parties, the pain came back. It had only been a couple of days since he went to the bar and left with a prostitute, and he hadn't done that again, but had encounters with others.

Now that the woman was gone, Calvin felt the emptiness inside him again along with a familiar sense in his mind. An image came into his mind of his injured wolf form and Calvin recognized Dawn Wind. Calvin didn't reply as he buried his face in his hands. The tears didn't come today as they had in the past couple of days.

The coffee finished and Calvin poured a cup, drew the shades, and turned off the light. He sat in the darkest corner and sipped his coffee - the light made the headache unbearable. He finished his coffee and climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets over his head. As he fell asleep, Dawn Wind sent him another message.

"Star Gazer..."



Edited by Calvin, Aug 19 2014, 08:55 PM.

A week later

Calvin's life continued as one full of drinking and women. The pain never going away, but spiraling out of control. Calvin decided to take a walk, for once being sober, although he was looking for a new bar to drink at. He kept on the move so he didn't make any friends anywhere. He was wondering aimlessly and had incidentally wandered into a rougher district of Moscow. The people gave him a wide berth; Calvin had again left his contacts at home.

Calvin continued to wander and heard sounds coming from a nearby alleyway. It sounded like a struggle. Calvin ignored it. Others could deal with their own problems. He had his own struggles and any other time he tried to help, he had failed.

A woman's scream came from the alley followed by terrified calls. "Someone help me...please!"


Calvin frowned, knowing no one would help her. People here kept to themselves. All had their own problems and had to deal with them on their own. He kept walking, and the woman kept screaming.

The words rang in his ears, calling to him. Had he been drunk, he could have ignored them, but sober, Calvin couldn't tune them out. His nature to help combined with his anger at the injustice in his own life and the world forced him to act.

Why the hell am I doing nothing.


Calvin turned and ran down the alley, feeling the wolf rise within him as he did so. The lights were not functioning in the alley, but his wolf eyes allowed him to see. About halfway down the alley, he saw the struggle. A woman was on the ground, a man on top of her, ripping off her shirt as she struggled and tried to get away.

Calvin ran forward and pulled the man up into the air, the darkness covering Calvin's features. As he turned, the moonlight caught his eyes and they glowed in the darkness. He could hear both rapist and victim gasp at it as a growl arose in his throat.

Calvin threw the man away from him and approached. Calvin started hitting him, aiming punches at the man's face and stomach. Calvin heard teeth rattle and ribs crack as the man fell to the ground shouting.

"Stop...please...stop!"


The words drew no pity from Calvin; they only served to fuel his anger. He pulled the man up and slammed him against the wall of a building.

"Did she plead with you to stop?"
Calvin yelled at him and the man whimpered in response. Calvin slammed him against the wall again and shouted louder. "Answer me!"


The man whimpered more, but nodded. "But you didn't stop, did you?
Calvin lowered his voice almost to a whisper.

Calvin could see the man's eyes widen as his breath quickened. Calvin could smell the stench of the man's fear.

"I'm not going to hit you anymore,"
Calvin said and the man's tension seemed to go away."No, it's time for you to face your victims."
The man's fear became palpable again.

Calvin searched the man, and found a piece of paper in his pocket. Calvin pulled out a pen and turned the man around to face the wall, giving him the pen and paper.

"Write what I say and it better be legible."


The man followed Calvin's instructions. His hands were shaking and the stench of fear continued to fill Calvin's nostrils. The note completed, Calvin read it to make sure it was readable.

"I am a rapist. I've harmed your wives, daughters, sisters, and friends. Do with me as you will."


Calvin affixed the note to the man's shirt and threw him out of the alley. Calvin moved farther into the shadows and watched as people came to see what had happened. Their eyes were affixed on the man on the ground - bleeding from his mouth and nose and severely bruised. Some gave him a wide berth, but some would kick him or hit him as they passed.

Calvin turned, leaving the man to his fate. The woman needed his attention. She found her again, bleeding and bruised and topless. The sight fueled his anger more, but he knelt down, pulling off his coat and plain blue hoodie underneath. The woman had passed out - whether it was from pain or fear Calvin didn't know. He covered her with his hoodie before putting his coat back on and picking her up.

He carried her away from the scene, using alleys and back roads to get closer to the hospital. His journey was made shorter when he came across an ambulance. He could see the feet of the drivers underneath the ambulance on the other side and could hear their voices. Calvin moved foward silently and set the woman next to the ambulance. He moved silently back to cover, picked up a rock and threw it at the ambulance.

"What the hell was that?"
one of the drivers said as both sets of feet moved to the other side.

"Holy shit!"
he yelled and both men moved to help the woman. Calvin hid deeper in the shadows. He didn't deserve to be known as a hero.

The men loaded the girl up and left. Calvin was overwhelmed with sorrow - for the woman who would never had received help, for his family who hadn't received the justice they deserved, for all the bad things in an unjust world. Overwhelmed Calvin howled a mournful wolf howl as the ambulance turned to go to the hospital.
Edited by Calvin, Aug 19 2014, 10:41 PM.

Calvin decided to go home after the incident with the rapist. He had a bottle whiskey and got drunk again. The incident had made him feel powerful and in control, but when the whole thing was done, an emptiness filled him again. It was just like the booze and sex. It took away the pain, but when it was over, the pain came back.

The next morning he went to work, hungover. His coworkers had noticed a change in him. He barely spoke to anyone and kept to himself as much as possible. As he walked in Amelie got his attention.

"Hey Cal, you should read this."


Calvin went behind her desk to look at what she had up. It was an article from the Scroll - the headline read "'Wolfman' Saves Rape Victim."

With modern technology, it didn't take too long for news to travel and inwardly Calvin was upset by it. He didn't deserve publicity, however, Calvin read the article.

"It's interesting isn't it. It's like Moscow has it's own superhero - like Batman or something. You know, a guy taking on the persona of a fearsome beast to scare all the bad guys."


Calvin's eyes were drawn to the detective's statement. The detective was right. Calvin wasn't a hero, but he had felt so powerful then - so in control. Calvin was worried though. If Amelie had asked him to read it, maybe she knew his secret. He tried to remember if she had seen him without his contacts in.

Calvin was awakened from his thoughts when she touched his arm. "Calvin, are you ok? You've been different lately."


Inwardly, Calvin sighed in relief. She didn't care about the article; she wanted an excuse to talk to him.

"I'm fine...just really tired. I better get to work."


Amelie frowned at him, seeing through the lie, but she didn't know what to do about it. "Ok..."
Calvin moved to enter the garage. "Cal...we're your friends...you know that right?"


Calvin looked at her and nodded before entering the garage and going to check the board to see where he was assigned today. He knew they were his friends, and that's why he couldn't tell them what was going on. They wouldn't understand anyways.


Edited by Calvin, Aug 25 2014, 11:51 AM.