It is a stretch to call him my pet. Yes! He is an animal that I own. I cannot disown him, nor can I pet him. Pays heed to my words rarely and acts with a mind of his own. I was always seen as a rebel by my family, and my relatives thought I was the odd one out. They whispered in hushed tones when I was around, but I knew I was the subject of gossip. I liked playing with the unknown.
When I was in class 5, I caught a baby snake from the garden and put it in a glass jar. Three days later, my mom saw it and freaked out. Soon after, I became fascinated by spiders and spent hours playing with the ones I had caught. People called it “weird”; I called it “unique.”
My parents were shocked the first time they met Varul. It was due to the unfriendly attitude and ferocious nature he displayed. I could not control the experience of their first meeting. I wish it had begun and ended well. I threw myself between Varul and my parents, and the result was that I was in the hospital for three days. The nature he displayed was not weird for the animal species Varul belonged to. He just needed more understanding. He was normally subdued but displayed predictable aggression.
Normally, pets would react positively to petting, but Varul will not have any of it. We are a well-to-do family, and the cups we use at home were made of silver. But Varul reacted harshly to the cups. He did not want those cups. People should have been proud of him that he was a minimalist; alas, they were not.
“What’s with this crazy name you have come up with for that animal?” my dad had asked.
“It is a unique name, Dad.” I retorted.
“He is ferocious and unfriendly, and we do not know how to manage him. Why does he even need a name?” Dad asked again.
I was taken aback. Why would my parent love me but not Varul?
I replied, “I had to ensure he had the same initials as me. I am Vicky, and he is Varul. Varul and V, or Varulv as I like to address our pair,” I had replied.
I was in control most times, but on certain occasions, I lost complete control of him. He would act like a beast and attack anyone around. A chain leash around my wrists to ensure he does not escape helped a bit, but the way he pulled on the leash, I ended up getting hurt.
My mom and dad, who had known Varulv for a long time, were not spared either. They showed him so much love, but during those moments of madness, he forgot all of it. Once, when Mom was crying, she called him “the beast from the east.” They realized they needed to remove Varulv but also understood that I was deeply attached to him and that any attempt to use force would harm me both physically and psychologically. For my sake, they tolerated him.
My parents consulted doctors, but in vain. Next were religious ceremonies at home to calm him down because someone had said Varul was acting possessed. There was a suggestion of black magic to get rid of him, but my mom would not hear of it. She could not bear to hurt me.
There were times when I did not like him either. But I could not live without him. We were quite attached, like Siamese twins, only not literally.
The day arrived. The calendar read 16th of Nov 2024. The whole house had a sense of calm from the morning. I was in my bed resting, as I knew I had a big night ahead. My dad went about his routine like a robot. These days were quite hard on him, and he ended up getting drained. Mom was chanting slokas in the pooja room.
She can pray all she wants. But today is a full moon day, and her lovely Vicky would transform into the Beast from the East, Varul the Werewolf.
Author notes:
Varulv – Swedish term for Werewolf
Beast from the East – Moon rises in the East, and during the full moon is when the transformation happens.
Silverware – Werewolves are averse to silverware.
