The Gonzo Wolf

Prince Connor Wrath is beyond bored with his royal lifestyle. Receiving nothing but the most mundane tasks in the name of his kingly father, and even less respect than the court jester, he dreams of a life beyond the land of Lynnwood. There’s only one catch: The gods of old have forbade travel past the harbors and inlets of the only land he’s ever known. Who are these gods, where have they gone, and why would they insist on such a questionable boundary? Connor is determined to be the first who defies the laws of the disappeared deities.

What follows is IP of Gonzo Wolf Productions LLC & Chad Cloud-Miller

Also, I’m releasing this novel, novella, or whatever it’s going to end of being absolutely free. If you enjoyed what you’ve read, I’d ask you to consider dropping off a little something at my PayPal @howlgrowlsnarl. Coffee is getting ridiculous!

Wrath’s Lament

by Rev. Dare Cloud

Chapter 5

3.0

            It was unbearable, almost to the point of intoxication. The godly duo who walked me to their monstrosity of craft smelled strongly of something familiar, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. Something like the place where the livestock cats did their business after a long day of keeping mice from the food stores. It stung like winter rain upon an irritated face.

            They never said anything to me as I was led from the castle, and neither did anyone from Lynnwood. They gawked in shock, afraid of the leathery beings with weapons to my back for either their own safety or my compliance. Their implied cruelty seemed more like an act than an order, like children mocking bloody battles with pieces of twigs and driftwood. At this point, I had no plans to defy their orders. Death wasn’t in the cards for me on this day, but I’ve been taken by surprise on more than one occasion by what my body could live through.

            The ramp to their craft was like the metals used in our own weapons and armor, meaning I wasn’t so alone in this world after all, especially if we shared materials. Either these monsters lived in this same land or this was undeniable proof of their past visits. For all I know, my ancestors helped them build these vehicles using our own materials. Then again, perhaps they’re the ones who brought those same items to us during our fledgling attempt at early life. That, to me, sounded a lot like what I imaged a god to do, so I wasn’t going to put it past them. They wanted me to impregnate the females of their world as some type of punishment. Just as long as they looked like me, it wouldn’t be punishment.

On the other side of that logic, everyone looks like a queen when the torches burn dim. Surely I could do this without much difficulty. All that mattered now was holding in the sickened urges of my queasy stomach while giving them a “thank you” kiss on the forehead. It was my signature move, some would say.

With my thoughts running wild as I traversed their ship, not to mention the pointed, yet dulled, weapons placed to my back by the royal guards, we came to my new temporary home: a holding cell. It wasn’t anything like the one I used for storage and hideaway loving in the dungeon below Castle Wrath. No, it was the most sterile environment I’d ever experienced via my own senses. There was something quite magical about it, and I wasn’t about to sell these beings short. Perhaps they were the gods my deceased kin all claimed to have met at one time or another in their pitiful lives.

            “Stop here,” ordered the one to my right. Shouldering his odd weapon, he tilted his clawed hand to reveal more of a human-like fingertip. Tapping on a numbered panel, the secure pod unlocked its innards to the awaiting guest; me. They led me inside with much less force than exhibited during my exit from my father’s court. Was it a possibility they were only putting on a show for the masses to keep fear as their ally? Why not? It was the same act my father pulled on his own subjects and not much different from the tactics I’d use upon my own subjects for the sake of compliance. My interpretation was that these sky gods had perfected their craft through repetition and cohesion. The difference being that they were really, really ugly.

            Then again, to them, I may appear to be horrendous. Those two guards may think I’m the most disgusting being they’ve ever laid their piercing eyes upon. They were indeed a bit standoff-ish in their duties as though I were comprised of shite and muck while walking upright. Still, they were oddly courteous when it came to my handling. Gently, they placed me inside the holding chamber and secured the door on their way out. They disappeared in unison behind a much friendlier looking passageway.

            At first glance, it appeared as though I could physically maneuver my way through the confinement materials currently keeping me jailed. A hard punch or two might overtake the structural integrity of the slick bars interrupting my current freedoms. As soon as I gained the courage to touch them, I couldn’t help but recall no similarities to anything I’d ever laid hands upon. Perhaps this was as common to their kind as stone and wood were to mine. Like I said, I’d just touched it. Beating the life from it to see if I could somehow break through would be later on if I found out there’d be no godlike sexual intercourse sessions in my near future. If it was any consolation, I needed little training in matters of the flesh, just as long as it was flesh that looked a lot like my own.

            Unexpectedly, the two escorts responsible for leading me from my father’s court to the innards of their craft returned to the chamber through the only other passage leading into or out of the room. Accompanying them was another creature like themselves, only he appeared much less “royal”. His tattered clothing and scarred face revealed more of a warrior’s essence than someone who bent knee in service to their master. He pulled from their grasp with a jerk of his shoulder slapped an illuminated panel on the far wall of his own holding cell. Doing so caused a softer looking ledge to reveal itself from the previously flush wall. He plopped down furiously like a child went to bed without supper.

            “You rat bastards!” he growled with his gravely, god-like voice. “You know damned well that it wasn’t me. I’ve got much more respect for my fellow lizards than that, fools!”

            The guards scoffed at him with a snort of their defined snouts and secured the cell door behind them. In response, the stranger beat his fist upon his makeshift bed with anger hot enough to actually feel on my side of the bars. Small talk was in order to see if I could make the obviously idiotic among them leak secrets. If not secrets, then at least some truths.

Luckily, he broke the ice first.

“So, pale face, what are you in for?” he asked as though neither of us were in unique situations.

“In for?” I followed. “I’m not quite sure what you’re implying.”

“Locked up!” He shouted, clearly perturbed. “I mean what did you do to get thrown into this here prison cell? They’re not locking all the naked apes up, I see, which means you’ve done something especially noteworthy in the eyes of the gods.”

            This odd creature was unusually calm about both our situations until he wasn’t. His conversations burst rather than flowed. From what I could tell, his own people weren’t too proud of his existence either. This could very well be my first friend in a strange, new world.

“Oh, they’re going to ship me off to wherever you hail so I can impregnate…something. I haven’t quite figured that out yet and the ones who led me here weren’t too keen on speaking. Your lord was quite specific about my agenda before I was taken away, but perhaps that was just a ploy to get me out of the castle in a non-violent matter.”

I was suddenly startled by his boisterous laughter. Like flames to a testy village, he exploded. Although muffled as he doubled over – his animal-like snout managed to fit between his legs – I could still tell he found my predicament to exhibit hilarity at my expense. He obviously knew something I didn’t.

“I see,” I said, attempting to do a bit of a table turn on the stranger. “Well, that’s my story to the best of my knowledge. Now, good sir, it is my turn to inquire as to your incarceration.”

His laughter ceased as he meticulously brought his line of sight back to my level. He cleared his throat with a troubled hack and shone a pompous stare in my direction. I don’t think he was too keen on my turning the tables. I recognized that “cough”. Perhaps we were more alike than previously believed, regardless of outward appearance.

“That’s a bit of a convoluted mess, you see. This ship’s God Crop stash began getting a little low and, since we’d been nowhere near a location to trade it for wares and goods, my shipmates assumed I consumed it all.”

Consumed? What was this dietic moron saying? Did the gods eat Crop? These poor souls.

“You know, it’s a lot better if you burn and inhale it. It gives you all kinds of good feelings and…”

“You pathetic monkey!” the creature screamed. “Don’t even begin to tell me what I know and what I don’t know regarding God’s Crop! Do you think that stuff just magically appeared on your insignificant island specked out atop the planet? Did you ever find anything similar to it just growing wild on the outskirts of your primitive encampment? No, you didn’t, because we were the ones who brought it to you.”

Was he serious? No God’s Crop existed in Lynnwood prior to our “saviors’” intervention? I was beginning to have massive doubts about who we were and why we were there in the first place. Crop was basically my entire life outside of bedsheets and swordplay. All differences aside, I may have found my first companion among the sky beings. It just so happened I had a bit in my tunic leftover from mine and Tawn’s rendezvous at my secret watercraft. I pulled my pipe from my pocket, careful to remove the wrap for fear of spilling what remained. Waste not, want not, regardless of the non-existent lips upon my new pal’s face. Everything from this point on in my life was to be lived in gasps and amazement. It resembled being born again to a strange mother. Secretly, I just hoped I was tasked to sleep with women who appeared more like me and less like him. Here’s to hope.

“Well, well, my new friend, what have we got here?” the creature inquired as I struck my flint atop the bowl. The prison chamber collected my exhale in a noticeable ceiling pocket.

“Oh, I believe you’re aware of what I have here, good sir. The true question is whether you’re a friend of Prince Wrath or a foe. Unfortunately, I don’t partake of Crop with foes. By chance, which would you be?”

I could tell he was quite taken aback by my behavior and naturally wanted to play along. On the other side of that conundrum, it was as though he’d been instructed otherwise. His eyes brightened as I took my second toke and contributed another round of faux fog to the ceiling. The lights above us blurred from the collection.

I brought my still smoldering pipe to the edge of the cell bars closest to my newest observer. He licked his lips instinctively as though his own taste buds yearned for the gift. I believed we were now officially on the same level. That was when I broke the tension by presenting my prison mate with a peace offering. He grasped the smoking pipe with his clawed hand to follow suit.

Immediately, I could see his demeanor change as he inhaled my gift. As though universally trained in procedural Crop sharing, he took a second, more defined hit and offered it back through the bars. If I had anything to do with it, me and this stranger would attune famously. He slowly melted into his own cell’s makeshift bed and stared upon me with altered eyes.

“So, let me guess,” I mocked his body’s movements into my own bedding. “You’re the whipping boy of your clan as well?”

This Crop was taking hold in a way worthy enough for celebration or holiday. Perhaps his tongue would loosen a bit now that I’d broken the metaphorical wall of differences between the two of us. It was a good thing since I had long since tired of being the only one granting information. This being held enough knowledge to keep me interested from now until the dirt.

“Whipping boy is a point of view and a bit harsh for someone who doesn’t even know his own sphincter from a hole in the ground,” he said as he exhaled again. “As of this moment, you think everything you’ve ever learned during your miniscule life upon a tiny rock is the be all/end all of existence. I’m here to tell you, son, you don’t know jack-diddley-hoo-ha regarding how your world turns. Let’s just say you’re in for a shock of cardiac-arrest proportions. My gods, wait until you encounter the Mayor, or the Hoodie Queen for that matter. You’re going to absolutely love them and their disgusting quest for dominance upon the home you so recently believed you and your people owned. Seriously, when you finish your conversion therapy downloads, you’re going to wish your own head exploded long before the procedures began. I’ve seen dozens of monkeys like yourself crack before the five-minute mark…”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You’re using words I can’t even comprehend or have never heard before while journeying through that ‘miniscule life upon a tiny rock’. What is conversion therapy? It sounds painful.”

“Ah,” he continued with an eerie light in his eyes. “Pain is also a point of view. What may be excruciating for you might be pleasurable for me. If you think I’m going to spoil the surprises you have in store, you’re gravely mistaken. Besides, I don’t even know you well enough to be sympathetic toward your existence. You’re so concerned about who I am and what I’ve done to be in such a predicament, yet I know nothing about you. Since I’m certain the both of us will be in these cells for at least the duration of one of your evenings, perhaps you should stop welching on your end of the incarceration bargain. Maybe if I knew a little bit more about you, then I’d be inclined to loosen my lips.”

In the grand scheme of things, what could it hurt? I asked myself this question repeatedly as though I was attempting to convince myself of a full confession to this newest of strangers. In the end, what was a fellow prisoner going to do to me? Tell all his scaly brothers and sisters my deepest, darkest secrets? Hold it against me next time there’s an extra chunk of flesh at the dinner table? Tell my mother? She and I have enough secrets as it is. Had, I mean. She and I had secrets. I’m sure the King is still fuming in regard to my latest maternal research projects. We weren’t blood, after all. It was more like having a girlfriend who stopped by daily for kisses and such and then went home to rub her husband’s feet. It just all seemed to work out in my favor until it didn’t. Besides, I hate foot-play. I’m ticklish.

“My name is Prince Connor Wrath. I am the youngest son of King Wrath and second in line for the throne upon his demise. I’m the black sheep of my family, a certified ‘Crop-Head’, an unclean lover to a forbidden lot, and a journeyman without a journey. I was mere moments from launching a boat into the forbidden abyss when you and yours came knocking.”

“Interesting,” he responded, scraping his phalangeal razors across his scaled chin.

The creature was obviously in deep thought brought on by the Crop we shared. I felt his pain. So far, neither of us said much to break the ice. I don’t mean I’d jump him and beat him into submission if the doors were to open, but I wasn’t planning on romping giddily through the long grass hand-in-hand with the abomination either. There was something in his demeanor which rubbed me the wrong way, and I’m an expert in wrong-way rubbing. Laying nude in breezy bed chambers with a woman you call ‘honey’ in one breath and ‘mother’ in another will do that to a man. It’s disgusting in hindsight if you’re unaware of the details. I didn’t dare elaborate further for the sake of incarcerated taunting. Those are inescapable.

Whether in exhaustion or revelation, the god-like creature reclined upon his impromptu bedding with his back against the wall. He exhaled deeply as though in deep, hopeless thought; like he’d been in this situation several times before. The miles in his eyes were what made me wish to offer condolences in his direction, but I’ve been fooled before. Deep down, he wanted something from me. Everyone I’ve ever met has wanted something from me. In fairness, I was the same to them. I guess it’s what my kind does to one another, and the gods were no different. Trade talks were in order. I wanted away from Lynwood, and they wanted me to sex their populous with my royal seed. All in all, I guess it wasn’t that bad of a deal. Ultimately, what is sex? Closed eyes, lubricated friction in a tight spot, and repeated thrusting until the job was done. If you were decent, you’d make sure the recipient of said thrusting might get a bit of a treat out of it as well. Trust me; if I must sleep with scaly god-women, they’re not getting theirs. Take that, my disgusting future harem.

It was within that exact moment when my cohort sprung to his feet as though he’d had the most illuminated of bright ideas. He casually strolled toward my place among the bars displaying what I could only interpret as his people’s version of a smile. There were many more teeth involved in his happiness than what I’d like.

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “You’re definitely the one I’ve been looking for. You’ll do just fine.”

            Before I could even inquire as to the meaning of his sudden change of heart, High King Rileos entered the prison chamber in hysterics. As though being attacked by invisible pests, he began flinging his royal robes in all directions. He opened the other creature’s cell door without keys or fumbling fingers upon the strange tablet affixed to the door. According to my observations, he was no longer acting kingly.

            “We got to get out of here as quickly as we can, Duke! Get up front and launch this beast back into space. There’s an entire fleet of Grey destroyers headed this way with a purpose.”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me!” exclaimed the being I now knew as Duke. “I slipped down here completely off their scopes just as promised. The swine have really been breathing down our tunics for the last bit. I’m not sure how much longer the peace treaty is going to last if they’re willing to exhibit this much force all at once.”

            The King, so to speak, was appearing much less royal with every passing moment. I didn’t know who the Grey’s were, but they were obviously feared greatly by my newest hosts. I was getting the feeling that I was right all along and my people were duped into being controlled by entities who were no different than the subjects of Lynnwood.

            “I told you this was a bad idea from the beginning! What are we going to do if we get intercepted and boarded? They’re going to find an enormous store of God’s Crop in the cargo hold and a monkey-man in our jail cell. They’ll take us before the Mayor and he’ll feed us to the Hoodie Queen! I’ve heard stories, man. They’re not pleasant.”

            “To the depths with the fascist Mayor and his pet. I’ve got this, man. Trust me.”

            As I watched the drama play out before me, I couldn’t help noticing that these two odd beings were not much different than me and my friend Tawn. We were always being cut off from our itinerary by those who had no business getting involved. These two were scrambling around the craft as though they were interrupted during high shenanigans. It was interesting to see how the other half lived; much like us.

            “Hey, if you guys need help getting out of here, I can be that help.”

            “Quiet, primate!” shouted my currently unnamed captor. “The only reason you’re even here is because I needed an excuse to get this last batch of Crop before the planetary owners caught wind of our grow operation. You and yours are not even supposed to be alive so, congratulations, you’re the chimp who lived.”

            The bad actor was so frustrated by needing to formulate an impromptu escape plan that I don’t believe he took my personal feelings into account. I suddenly had so many more questions but didn’t dare inquire further. The one they called Duke had disappeared from sight completely as though whatever came this way were legitimately dangerous. The last thing I wanted was to dislodge this being’s line of thought. If something was coming to harm, imprison, or kill them, then I was conveniently locked inside their vehicle with no way to save myself. I was at their mercy.

            The ship vibrated intensely, tickling my feet through my boots to the point where I experienced difficulty standing. I fell but immediately sprang back to my feet. That same feeling was entirely too intense for my unprepared buttocks. Perhaps some other time during more pleasant situations.

            “Hang on, monkey, we’re getting out of here!” shouted Duke from an undisclosed location in the craft. “Things are going to get a little bumpy back there and I don’t have much time to explain the details. Just grab hold of something and don’t let go until the screaming stops!”

            Screaming? There’s going to be screaming? I didn’t know whether to cry in fear for my wellbeing or laugh hysterically in a death-defying cackle of lunacy. Who in the name of the recently reintroduced gods had I fallen in with on this most unusual of evenings? All I wanted to do was climb into my boat and sail off into oblivion. It appears I got my wish, only with stranger company. I did exactly what he said without question. He’d obviously played this game a time or two.

            With that, my stomach lurched downward as though I’d fallen from the tallest tree in reverse.

            “Pressuring!” echoed Duke’s voice. “Hold your hands over your ears!”

            Unfortunately, his instructions came a bit too late because I was too busy using said ears to listen to his instructions. The command didn’t even make sense. How could I cover my ears and hear him instructing me to cover my – ouch!

            I held the palms of my hand to both sides of my head as though to prevent the invisible, fire-hot pokers from delving further into my mind. I don’t know what “pressuring” entailed, but it was excruciating. Next time, I planned to be more selective when it came to insubordination. As a stranger, I was simultaneously thrilled and horrified.

            “Don’t worry, primate,” explained Duke’s frantic and clearly frightened partner. “If we can find our way out of this situation, we’ll get you to a download station to help all of this make sense. Just try not to worry too much about it.”

            Worry? Why would I worry? I was in a sky-craft with two of what I could only imagine were bad actors and even worse criminals. They’d managed to pull off something big beneath the very noses of their own overlords, and I was associated with their makeshift heist on an unfortunate whim. I wasn’t even upset yet that they were removing me from everyone and everything I’d known since birth.

            “Oh yeah,” I said under my breath. “This Duke crook is exactly what I’ve sought in my most bizarre of dreams. He’ll do just fine.”

Chapter six coming soon…