Redemption for the Wicked

John Hamilton didn’t lead an exemplary life. He was a shyster of a salesman who was always on the lookout for the latest gimmick; used cars, insurance, investments, you name it. He mainly targeted the elderly, defrauding them of their savings. He spent the money on booze, gambling, and ladies of the night. He never cared much for his family or having a family of his own. He never made any real friends. He had some acquaintances and even more burned bridges. People were a way of getting what he wanted in life. To him, people came and went, and that was fine. He had his carnal pleasures, a way to pay for them, and that was all he cared about. Ironically, John died after hitting it big at the craps table. He was hit by a drunk driver as he was crossing the street to buy a little company for the night. John was reincarnated. He came back as of all things a wolf. You would figure someone as sleezy as John Hamilton would come back as a roach. It would only be fitting. But no, he came back as the beautiful and mysterious gray wolf. But karma has her ways. John remembers being human.

John was born in a den that was dug out underneath a tree. It was cold and wet, the den only offering minimal protection from the elements. He was one of five pups. His brothers and sisters were noisy, constantly whining, bumping into him as they searched for their mother. He knew where she was. Although he couldn’t see her, he could smell her musty wet fur and hear her breathing. John hated the darkness that came with being blind. He also hated the immobility that came with being a newborn. He appreciated that in his former life he didn’t remember lying around in his feces, starving, having nothing to do. Speaking of starving, John was famished. He needed to eat, but he knew what that meant; he would have to suckle a wolf’s teat. He had to put it out of his perverted mind that it wasn’t a sexual thing. He had spent a lifetime objectifying women and using their bodies for pleasure. It made it hard for him to imagine their bodies being designed for the survival of their mammalian species. John wrestled his way in amongst his brothers and sisters, cursing them for being in the way. He found a teat. He shriveled up his little wolf snout and latched on. At first, he wanted to gag. He could have sworn he felt fur in his mouth. But as the warm milk soothed his aching stomach, he got over himself and relaxed.

It wasn’t long before John’s eyes were open. Sturdy legs soon followed. His brothers and sisters had grown to be rambunctious and adventurous. Their mother was often busy keeping track of her young pups. John didn’t care much for his siblings. He didn’t see what he would gain from playing with them. Food was his motivation. That was what he wanted, some thick, juicy meat. He was tired of living on milk alone. He felt sure that he could take down a squirrel or a rabbit on his own. So, he snuck off on his own to hunt.

John reveled in the fresh air outside the den. It was brisk and refreshing against his dense fur coat. He saw many squirrels and rabbits. They proved to be too fast for him. He wore himself out chasing them and had to stop for a breather. In the thrill of the hunt, John got lost. It didn’t bother him. He figured he would find a place to sleep and try hunting again in the morning. He was an independent man. He will be an independent wolf. He heard something overhead. Before he could look up, a mountain lion dropped from a tree with a throaty meow. It started to stalk John. John began to whimper, bark, and howl in his panicked state. He was scared to run and knew he couldn’t fight such a large and deadly creature. A large male wolf leapt over him, putting itself between John and the lion. The two animals squared off. The mountain lion hissed and swatted at the wolf. The wolf growled and bared its teeth. Out of the forest came two more wolves, flanking the giant cat. The lion fled in the opposite direction. The wolves did not chase. The big wolf in front of John turned and growled at him with menacing yellow eyes. John quivered with fear after the wolf snapped at him, drawing blood on his snout. The older wolf walked off. One of the other wolves picked him up in her mouth and carried him back to the den.

Months passed. John was introduced to the pack. He learned really quick that the large wolf was the alpha male. He was in charge. He let each pup know it, displaying his dominance in front of them, keeping everyone inline, correcting the pups when they were out of line. John detested the alpha. He hated being bossed around. He wanted to be free to do what he pleased when he pleased. His brothers and sisters fell in line like a bunch of dopes. What little respect he had for them went right out the window when they so willingly fell in line. As he reached maturity, John wanted the lion’s share of the hunt. He wanted everyone to respect him the way they did the alpha. Most of all, he wanted to scratch the burning itch to mate with every female in the pack. But every time he tried, the alpha broke it up. If he screwed up on a hunt, the alpha attacked him for not obeying commands. If he wandered off, the alpha forced him back in line. Every time he stood up to the alpha, he ended up on his back with his throat in the alpha’s mouth, whimpering for mercy. The other wolves, including his mother, just watched.

One day the pack was chasing a small herd of elk through the forest. They came upon a river where a grizzly was fishing with her cubs, startling the bear. The bear became defensive and swiped at the alpha, leaving long, deep gashes along his neck. The other wolves snarled and growled at the bear. They surrounded it, nipping at it. With the alpha down, John decided to give the commands. He was surprised as the other wolves willingly responded to his orders, driving the bear back across the river. When the bear was gone, John nudged the alpha with his snout. The wolf did not respond. The males among the pack began to fight amongst themselves to earn the right to lead the pack. It was what John had been wanting. The idea of king suited him just fine. Tooth and claw and a selfish desire to rule were his weapons. He used them without remorse, striking down all who challenged him.

That night he asserted his dominance by having his way with every female in the pack. Not one of them was in heat. The next day he led a hunt. They managed to bring down a deer. He made everyone watch while he got his fill. Then he let the others fight amongst themselves for the rest. John never stood guard. He never walked the perimeter. He never kept his nose to the air for danger or food. The weaker wolves in the pack began to look emaciated. They weren’t getting enough to eat. Still John stuck to his ways. Then, one day a hunter managed to sneak up on them. He shot and killed one of John’s brothers. The pack was scattered. That night, John sat on a rocky outcrop looking out over the valley. It dawned on him that being the alpha didn’t mean being king, it meant he was the head of a family. That was something new and strange to him. He realized that he needed to start putting others before himself. He needed to make sure they were safe. He needed to make sure they were healthy. He needed to discipline them, so they don’t get hurt in such an unforgiving environment. He lets out a howl and stops to listen. One by one, his pack answers. John keeps howling, drawing them closer and closer until they are all together again. From there on out, his ears were always open, and his nose was in the air. When they hunted, he gave commands and if someone screwed up, they were disciplined. When they made a kill, everyone ate. He controlled himself and mated only to breed. The pack thrived under his protection and guidance.

At a ripe old age, John was challenged by a younger, stronger wolf. It was a fight to the death. This time he was not reincarnated. He had learned his lesson and was rewarded with eternal bliss.