Werewolf

By Groovy 1

 

 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are based on my own imagination. Please do not steal.

 

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You remember the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true." That saying always made me laugh, at least until about two weeks ago. 

I was sitting in a bar with a couple of friends and we were talking about the usual things 22-year-old guys talk about.  You know, women, cars, drinking, and of course what we plan to do with ourselves after we graduated from college, which was in about 5 months. Anyway we got to talking about the supernatural and if we believed any of that mumbo jumbo.  I, as it would have it, did believe there was some kind of strange force out there that we couldn't explain or understand, but I wasn't about to be the first one to admit to it. You see the friends I was with were a little bit on the skeptical side and I wasn't about to start any argument with a bunch of drunken assholes.  As it turned out I didn't have to say anything about my beliefs because out of nowhere one of the guys said he believed he saw a U.F.O once.  We all look at each other and before we knew it, we all had admitted to believing in some sort of supernatural force.  A couple of us said we believed in ghosts, a couple of others said they believed in vampires, which by the way do exist, not the blood-sucking two fanged ghouls you see in the movies, but real people who drink the blood of humans.  I had seen a show on it on Heraldo or was it Sally Jesse, who knows, it really doesn't matter because what I said through them all for a loop. I asked them if they had ever seen or heard of a shapeshifter.  They all looked at me, as to question my sanity. I mean let's be real, how would you react if someone actually ask you if you had ever seen a monster?  I went on by saying that I knew of the whereabouts of a shapeshifter, but not just any old shapeshifter, a werewolf.  They proceeded to laugh and make jokes at my expense.  I proceeded with my bullshit story of how I had come face to face with this horrible creature.  They went on listening as if to pretend right along with me. I told them that I was out for a walk one October evening when I came upon an old cemetery on the south side of town.  Me being the curious one that I am, went into the cemetery to look things over, maybe bring the old girlfriend here to scare the shit out of her.  The guys giggled at that statement.  I walked all the way up to old man Peters grave, which was more or less in the middle of the cemetery, and took a seat on his tombstone.  You see old man Peters was one of many strange deaths that had taken place in our little quite town.  They had found old man Peters out in Homeland woods, his throat had been torn out and his left arm and right leg were both missing.  They never did find those appendages, I told my ''Doubting Thomas" friends.  Well the next thing I heard out in that cemetery really scared the shit out of me.  I heard this God-awful howl that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I could swear the sound came from behind me, so I began to hightail it back to the entrance of the cemetery.  All of a sudden I heard the howl again, but this time it was closer and in front of me.  I didn't know what to do; I was paralyzed from the waist down.  I looked around frantically and saw nowhere to run, not that I could anyway.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw this monstrous figure emerge from the back of little Suzie Thompson's grave.  Suzie was another one of our towns casualties, she was found down by Mills Creek, she had died in the same fashion as old man Peters but one thing was different about her death, she had also been disemboweled, but not like a doctor would do or even a psychotic killer with a little time, no she had been ripped open and it appeared that she had been feasted upon. This monstrous figure now approached me in a very laid back fashion, it was like it was saying, "Go ahead and run you asshole, you all taste so much better when I have to chase you down."

As the creature made it's final approach I could make out that it had a striking resemblance to a dog, no a wolf that was standing on it's hind legs.  I finally was able to let out a scream of terror, which wasn't really a good idea. My scream seemed to please the creature, as it had one of those shit-eating grins on it's face it took one swipe at me with it's mighty claws.  Somehow, I don't know how, maybe by the will of God, I was able to move and barely escape its claws.  It did, however, scratch me across my chest.  "But wouldn’t you become a werewolf too," one of my skeptical friends asked. 

"That was only in the movies," I told him.

Of course they wanted proof and luckily I had fallen out of a tree one week before my fabled story.  I lifted up my shirt and to the surprise of my friends there were four long scabbed over scratches across my chest.  They all just about fainted.  That’s where the trouble started and when I got all my friends killed. They kept bounding me to take them to the cemetery so they could bare witness to the monster that really didn't exist.  So I told them that I would take them to cemetery so they could get a first hand look.  Of course I told them that the monster wouldn't probably be there because werewolves prefer to come out in October, I said that to cover my ass on the fake story.  Hell, it was just for laughs anyway right, a bunch of drunken bastards going out to wake the dead. When we arrived at the cemetery it was about 12:30 in the morning, the doors of the cemetery were left open as usual by that crazy old caretaker who was usually to stoned to remember if he locked the door or not.  We went in and walked around for about an hour.  The boys started to get hostile; they said they were going to kick my ass if I didn't produce a werewolf soon.  I decided to let them off the hook and I told them I was just kidding about the werewolf and that it was just a made up story, except the deaths in town, those were real.  The guys said, "What about the scratches on your chest?"

"I got those falling out of my tree last week, " I said. 

Of course they said I was an asshole and proceeded to push me, I thought, I'm dead and it’s going to be my friends that kill me.  I’ve never wished for anything in my life, at least not with sincerity, but I found myself wishing with all my might, it actually made my brain hurt and my nose bleed.  I wished that that werewolf was somehow real and that it would show up just to prove to these assholes that I was telling the truth, even though I wasn't. All of a sudden we heard the howl of a wolf in the distance.  Everyone paused for a second and then looked at me, "You’d do anything to get us to believe you now wouldn't you, you son-of-a-bitch."

I was panicked now, and it wasn't because these stupid rednecks in front of me, it was of that ungodly howl.  From out of nowhere we heard a big swiping sound and one of my friends was decapitated.  Mot more than two seconds past and another swipe and my next friend lay in two halves, severed at mid-thorax.  I puked right there and then before I started to run off toward the gate.  I could hear my friends screaming in pain as they were torn to pieces in the cemetery. I got back to my apartment and proceeded to puke all over the bathroom.  I began to think, was it right for me to leave my friends to die like that, "Of course it was, what were you going to do against that thing you moron," my conscience spoke.  "Yeah your right. I'd be just as dead as them if I would have stayed."

I grabbed my bottle of Absolut Vodka and drank myself into an unsettling sleep.

The next morning it was all over the newspapers.  "Five young adults were found slaughtered in the Homeland Cemetery."

I ran to the bathroom and puked all over again. I knew that the police would be coming to ask me questions about last night and possibly even arrest me on suspicion of murder.  I had to get out of town and fast.  I packed a bag and left for Crawaly, which was the next town over.  I put myself up in a hotel there.  I knew something had to be done in order to stop the beast from taking any more lives in Homeland. With my five friends dead it brought the total up to twelve deaths in Homeland.  I had to devise a plan in order to take the beast down, because if I went waltzing into that cemetery without a plan, I would most likely come out in a zip lock baggy. I decided that it would be better if I waited for a couple of months before I made my move.  The time seemed to pass by very slowly.  I never thought that March would finally come along.  I went back into Homeland and went straight to the police station.  I really wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do, but I did know that I had to clear my name, at least for a couple of nights.  When I looked up on the wall of police station I saw my picture on the wall with a WANTED FOR QUESTIONING sign under it.  Three officers surrounded me and started reading me my rights.  I didn't put up a fight, because I had anticipated this, you see I had a plan.  My ex-friend lived in Crawaly and she was going to back up my alibi that I told the cops.  You see I told them that I had left town the night my friends were killed.  I had left at 11:30 toward Crawaly to patch things up with my ex-girlfriend, which gave me an hour leeway to work with before my friends left to the cemetery. Of course the police called my ex-girlfriend to confirm my story.  Kelly, that was her name, answered every question the police asked her, just like we had discussed.  One of the officers came over to me and said that my story check out but they were going to keep an eye on me, so I'd better watch my step.  My first move from leaving the police station was to go to the cemetery and see if there was anything that would give me a clue to where as I could find the werewolf.  I thought I might question the crazy old caretaker, but he was nowhere to be found.  I noticed it was starting to get dark so I headed back to the front gates of the cemetery.  As I past the caretaker's shack I heard some strange noises coming from inside.  I went up to the window and took a peek inside. What I saw inside was indescribable and disgusting. The caretaker was gnawing on what appeared to be a leg of some animal.  The leg wasn't cooked either, it was as raw as freshly ground beef.  I started to gag, and the caretaker heard me, he turned and saw me and then he grinned.  I lost control over my bodily functions and pissed my pants.  I then turned and ran my ass off back to my apartment.  I had this horrible feeling that the caretaker, this beast of a man, was going to come to my apartment and kill me. Nothing happened for about a week, including me not leaving the apartment.  Then, on the sixth day around midnight, I decided to go downtown and get myself some food and maybe have a couple of drinks at the tavern.  When I opened my front door I just about had a heart attack, that bastard had left the remainder of the carcass he was gnawing on hanging in the doorway.  I knew then and there it was time to kill the beast, and it had to be done soon.  I know he could have killed me already if he wished to.  It was like he was playing a game with me. I gathered my thoughts and went down to the tavern to have a few shots of courage.  I sat at the bar for over an hour and a half. I had killed off a bottle of Absolut Vodka and started on a bottle of Jack Daniels.  The bar tender said, "Hey buddy I think you've had enough."

I said, "How much is enough to kill a monster."

The bar tender just gave me the strangest look I had ever seen anyone get as I walked out the door.  The bartender knew who I was, and what had happened to my friends, so she called the cops.  "Bobby this is Heather down at the bar, that crazy kid who's friends were killed, just left the bar tanked off his ass and talking about killing someone."

"Thanks Heather, we'll take it from here."

I bought a police ban radio so I could hear what they were thinking.  Sure enough they put out an APB on me saying I was armed and dangerous. One thing I knew for certain was that the werewolf had to die tonight.  Of course I still wasn't sure how I was

going to go about killing him.  The only thing I knew was, I had to get back to town without the fuzz giving me any hassle. I went over to my ex-girlfriend’s house again.  I knew I probably shouldn't have involved Kelly in this anymore than I already had, but I was desperate. "Kelly," I said as she answered the door, "I really need your help again.”

Now Kelly had always had a soft spot for helping those in need, so I had a pretty good idea that she would offer her help to me. "Why the hell should I help you anymore than I already have you lying, manipulative, self-absorbed asshole." 

You see, I had dumped Kelly for her best friend and she was a little sore at me. "Kelly I don't have time to get into this right now, I know I hurt you and I'm sorry but this is a matter of life and death."

"I don't know," she said.

"Every time I help you I end up getting hurt." 

I had to think fast. "It's different this time, I swear you won't get hurt."

She let me in and I explained everything to her. Kelly was pretty skeptical, but she took me into town in the trunk of her car.  We went to my apartment and I made preparations for my encounter with the spawn from hell. Kelly had gone to the library for me and took out some books on shapeshifters and werepeople.  All of the books varied on several things but one fact that seemed to be the same in all the books, was that in order to kill a werewolf you had to use silver.  At first I drew a blank, because I knew the town didn't have a gun or cutlery store, and I thought I was pretty sure I didn't have anything in the house that was silver.  Then it hit me. My friend Dave had brought me an old sword for England when he had gone on vacation there last spring.  I was pretty sure that it was silver.  I had Kelly take the sword to the town chemist to have it appraised. When she returned she told me that the chemist said it was pure silver. My plan was set into motion, I was to go to the cemetery alone at mid-night that evening.  Of course plans don't always go as they're supposed to.  It turns out Kelly had followed me to the cemetery. "What the fuck are you doing here," I barked at her.

"I wanted to make sure that everything went okay for you, " she said. 

" I love you Steven." 

I know she meant it to, because she never called me Steven.  Just as I was about to tell her that I was fine and didn't need her around fucking things up, she was standing in front of me decapitated.  I was covered in blood and frozen solid. There, standing in front of me was the monster I came to face.  I was so scared that I pissed my pants.  The monster seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort, and with one swipe of his mighty arm, he knocked me to the ground and made a deep gash in my chest.  Scared and bleeding, I picked myself off the ground and ran toward this great monster.  I really don’t know what happened next but when I came to the caretaker lay in front of me with the sword piercing his heart, and Kelly's decapitated body lying next to him. There were police everywhere, and they all where staring at me and pointing fingers at me.  The police chief came over and placed me under arrest for the murders of all my friends and the caretaker.  I was very taken by this whole ordeal, and was not able to speak.

Now here I am in a maximum-security prison and not able to speak.  All I could do was write down my thoughts in hopes that someone will read this and believe my story. Then again I can’t help thinking, maybe this was all something I had imagined, and I had actually been the one who had killed all those people.  "Could that be possible," I asked myself. 

Then again, on the other hand if what I had gone through actually happened, what was going to happen to me?  I had been scratched by the werewolf, and we all know what happens to someone who has been bitten or scratched by a werewolf...