Speaking of myths and misconceptions, you might be interested to know that werewolves exist. I can prove it but your better off just taking my word for it. Even if you don't, it wouldn't hurt to stay in and lock your doors extra tight on nights with a full moon. One night is all it takes, but obviously you can't know what night it's going to be until it's too late. After that you never forget the date and you can go out any night you want without much fear of danger. My date was Thursday, March 8, 2012. After work I drove into the city to run some errands. On the drive home I got a flat tire. I hadn't seen any headlights for miles so when I got out the car I stood in the middle of the road, took a deep breath and stared into the clear night sky to calm my nerves. The moon wasn't especially bright, but I've never seen a dull full moon, certainly not recently. I looked into a cluster of stars until I felt it look back then I went on to the next. Eventually I felt calm enough to change the tire without getting frustrated and introducing the tire iron to my good friend and only mode of transportation. I got the jack out of the trunk then moved to the back left tire.
I woke up in the hospital the next morning. The nurse told me someone drove up and scared the wolf away then called 911. She stayed long enough to make sure I would live then left. I asked if I could get her information to thank her but the hospital couldn't give it to me for privacy reasons. Fair enough. All they could tell me was her name. Amy Grace. Usually that's enough to track down everything from a person's favorite movie to their preferred brand of undergarment but not Amy Grace. Her Facebook is little more than a picture. I called my boss to tell him I was going to be out for a few days. The hospital already called my parents. I reached them just in time to stop them from wasting money on a plane ticket. The last thing any of us needs is for them to work themselves up about me. That afternoon Amy Grace came back.
"I'm glad you're doing better. I couldn't stop thinking about you. You were... you looked so... I just couldn't get you out of my mind. But you look better already," she said. She smiled but seemed afraid that she hurt my feelings, like I didn't know that I looked like I just survived a wolf attack.
"Thank you," was all I could say. She just smiled again then turned to leave. "Please stay. You saved my life. I have to thank you at least a few more times." She stayed under the condition that I didn't say "thank you" again. We talked for hours. Before she left we exchanged information so I could let her know I was doing okay and keep her mind at ease. She didn't say I couldn't text her a few dozen "thank you"'s. I stayed in the hospital for a week recovering from deep cuts and broken bones. Three weeks went by like normal. Black.
I woke up naked in the middle of the woods next to a deer carcass. All of my half-healed scars from a month before were gone. According to the local news and my own guesstimation I was less than a mile from a human carcass. It didn't prove anything. Still, I had seen enough movies to have some idea what was happening, hard as it was to believe. At home I started researching werewolves. It was mostly the same stuff everyone knows. Other theories were obviously just made up. Some things just felt true. Apparently the transformation comes with a certain kind of supernatural self-awareness. The good stuff only kicked in after the first transition. On the hike home I had felt more thorns than I could count dig into my skin but they all healed before even a drop of blood could spill. I was more vulnerable as a wolf but there are only so many dangers to a wolf. A silver bullet could kill me in any form. There was a way to get rid of the wolf. I had to kill the one who gave it to me but only under the full moon.
I kept my ear to the ground for any strange occurrences, animal attacks, or business trips once a month. I was talking with Amy almost everyday. In July she told me about Miranda at work who everyone says is bipolar because she freaks out every few weeks. On August 2 I followed Miranda into the woods. At dusk she started taking her clothes off, folding them neatly even though she clearly chose them because they could be spared if she didn't get them off before the change.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm like you."
"Like me? Did you do this to me?"
"No. Did you do it to me."
"No. I don't think so."
She was telling the truth. The wolf was still in me the next day. There's no telling how many people Miranda hurt over the past year. Two months later I found out Jason didn't do it either. In November it was Ben. In December it was Pete. January, Max. April, Mary. In May Mitchell made plans to be with his family all night. I think Mary changed him. In July I met Steven. When I caught up to him he was locking on a metal collar tied to a tree with a thick chain. It looked huge around his skinny neck and under his thinning hair. About thirty yards away I could see his over sized suit hanging from a branch.
"Say the word and I'll run in the other direction even if it was you that turned me," I told him.
"You would know if it was me." It felt true. I stepped back.
"Stay," he said.
On months when I wasn't hunting I used his collar and chain on myself. I hunted Kasey, Logan, James, Julia, and Roger. Amy started to notice my lunar absences. I figured she deserved nothing less than the truth. She took it about as well as expected. I hunted Chris and Louise. Word got to me about a rich business man who drove into the country once a month for "stress relief." He happened to show up at the first of a very few gas stations between the city and the town. It was him. I knew it. I had to see Amy.
"You don't have to believe everything, just trust me when I say after tonight it will all be over. I found him. It's almost over," I said.
"What do you mean? You're going to..."
"End it. Everything will be over."
"What if he..."
"He won't," I hope she never cries again, "but one way or another it all ends tonight." I squeezed the two silver bullets in my pocket; one was for Thomas.
I went to Thomas' country house and waited. He led me into the woods. When he stopped to take off his clothes I stopped too. I cut one last message into a tree and left the gun there where I could find it in case we both survived in the morning.
 |
| Thank You |
"You made me like you. Now I'm undoing it and all the others you've made."
"I suppose I can't blame you and I can't stop you from trying, but I'll certainly try to kill you first."
The change started. Black. No control. Only tooth and claw and him and Amy Grace. I bit his throat. He clawed my shoulder. He bit my leg. I scratched his face. He scratched mine. I scratched again. He bit my throat. Bite, scratch, bite, bite. She pulled the trigger. He was gone. Still black. I went towards the noise, towards Amy Grace. Please, fire again. I can't stop. Please. You have to shoot me. Fucking Technicolor. The wolf was gone.
"You saved me again."
"You're welcome," she said.
The wounds weren't healing. I collapsed in her arms. She called 911. We rode that ambulance into the sunrise as survivors of another wild animal attack.
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