Work Text:
Day 6
A wolf stalks Norilsk. They say there are no wolves here, that the footprint of the city is too large, too destructive. There is no food for them. But a wolf stalks Norilsk. I've seen it.
Day 13
I've seen it peering from under the buildings. The buildings, they stand on stilts here, to keep from sinking. To keep the city from turning into a nickel Atlantis. Nickel-and-dime Atlantis. It's eyes glow yellow. Two yellow holes. It doesn't growl.
Day 20
It doesn't growl, not anymore, but I know it wants. And waits. Always waiting, till it seems not to be waiting at all, but dead. Poke it and get no reaction. No reaction till no reaction is expected. And then it bites. No love. It doesn't growl. It doesn't warn.
Day 27
It doesn't warn, so I should not go out. Out into the dark, and the cold. Stay inside, says my husband. Polar winter. Endless night. What is there for you? Poison. No way out. Norilsk is a frozen abyss.
Day 34
Norilsk is a frozen abyss in which I should not swim. But someone must. Food. Someone must hunt for it. My husband dons his silver skin. He should not, it is worth too much. It is warm. I tell him of the wolf. He laughs. There are no wolves in Norilsk.
Day 41
There are no wolves in Norilsk. My husband has been gone for days.
Day 48
My husband has been gone for many days. The sun will not rise. The night must have me. Shapes wander the deep dark of midday. Fading. Red ice leads me. Man prints frozen crimson and black. To the buildings hitching their skirts. I can howl. It is not only wolves who make that sound.
A howl responds, stronger. Excited. A beast cast in silver breaks from the nothing. Forming hard, closer and closer, stepping red, silver all stiff. Jagged. Dripping once. Black hood can't hide the eyes, the snout. Blood wet nose glinting in stale light. Light throwing itself from windows high above. The snout shows it's grin. Yellow widens.
"What nice teeth you have, my love."
A wolf stalks Norilsk.