Full Moon Fears: Terrifying Tales of Werewolves and Shape-Shifters

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
When the moon is high and glowing bright, something stirs
in the shadows, something with teeth. Tonight, I'm unleashing a
pack of terrifying tales from Weekly Spooky's vault about werewolves,
shape shifters, and fur covered horrors you'll wish had stayed

(00:25):
in the dark. From small town monsters to teenage terrors,
these stories will make you think twice about going out
on a full moon. So grab your silver bullets and
remember to make sure you're subscribed on your favorite podcasting

(00:46):
app as the full moon fears begin right now Woo
by Joe Song. Daria looked up into the night. Was

(01:06):
that a scream? She turned to her boyfriend of three years.
His face was illuminated by the dancing flames of their campfire.
The look in his eyes told her that he had
heard it too. His hand subconsciously went to his belt,
where he had a knife attached in a sheath. It
was probably coyotes, Brandon said, reassuring her. Sometimes they can

(01:30):
sound like babies yelling. That was no coyote. Wasn't there
a car we passed up a little ways ago. Maybe
something happened to them. We should check to see if
they're okay, Daria said, I'm sure it's just a bunch
of drunks having a good time. I haven't heard anything since,
Brandon said, looking back towards the old logging road that

(01:53):
traveled its way around the small lake where they were camping.
We're in the woods, I'm going to hear things we
aren't used to. That's half the reason we come out
here to experience new things, he said, and smiled at her.
Do you need another beer, he asked, No, she said

(02:13):
sullenly and stared into the darkness towards the sound she heard.
She looked back at the flimsy tent and wondered what
kind of protection it could actually offer if something did
come into the camp tonight. It was her first time camping,
she was having a hard time relaxing. Brandon, on the

(02:34):
other hand, grew up in the woods and had no
problem enjoying the outdoors. It was fine during the day,
but once the darkness started to settle in her anxiety
started her eyes. She knew somewhere inside that she was
just being foolish, but he wouldn't listen to her. The
full moonslight played off the trees and cast shadows just

(02:55):
out of the firelight. She constantly found herself looking around,
thinking she saw movement. Brandon said she was just nervous
because it was her first time in the woods. He
had told her that he'd camped here before and knew
the area well. The fresh air was great, she had
to admit, and the quiet was unbelievable. No hustle of

(03:17):
the city and no loud cars cranking bass driving by,
no fireworks or gunshots. You never really could tell. It
felt like they were the only people in the world
until that other car drove up the road. Brandon said
there were other spots to camp around the lake, but
it wasn't a well known area. She had tried to

(03:39):
fish earlier, but grew bored after about an hour of trying.
Brandon laughed at her for being impatient. She looked over
at the folding table where they had some of their
supplies sitting, everything from pans and paper plates to utensils
and even a tube of pringles. The rest of the
food had been packed away into a sealed container and
put in the back of their suv to keep the

(04:01):
bears away. She looked up as she thought she had
heard another scream. She turned back towards Brandon, but he'd
fallen asleep in his camp chair. She stood and approached
her boyfriend, who was lightly snoring. If tonight was any
other drinking night, then he would sleep soundly through the
entire night. She undid his belt and pulled the knife

(04:24):
and its hold her off and slid it into the
front of her shorts. She grabbed a flashlight from the
table and walked the little path up the logging road.
She looked both ways on the road, the dirt illuminated
by the full moon through the gap in the trees above.
There was no movement or sound coming from either direction.

(04:45):
She debated if she should check out the other camp.
She wanted to make sure they were okay. It would
give her a peace of mind as well as making
sure they were all right. She couldn't bring herself to
start walking down the road. She was afraid. She hated
to admit it, though, even to herself. I'm being silly,

(05:06):
she said out loud, and turned back towards her camp.
The fire looked inviting from this far out in the
cool night. She stumbled on a route as she entered
the campsite, and it awoke Brandon. He rose from his chair.
Are you ready for bed, babe, he asked. Yeah, she replied,
and poured the rest of her beer onto the fire

(05:27):
to put it out. That's a waste of beer, Brandon said,
and then zipped his pants. He started to piss on
the fire. Daria headed to the tent disgusted. A babe,
we should do it. It'd be fucking intense. Get it,
fucking intense, Brandon said, and burst out laughing. He turned

(05:49):
around and saw her slip inside the tent. No sense
of humor, he said, zipping up. A few minutes later,
Brandon was snoring next to Daria, wrapped up in his
sleeping bag. If only she was that lucky, she thought,
as she watched the faint light from the moon dance
in the shadows cast by the leaves. Every time the

(06:10):
breeze kicked up, she thought it was something approaching her camp.
There was no way she was going to sleep that night.
She played with the idea of sleeping in the car.
She might feel safer that way. As she looked at
the knife she still carried, she slid her fingers across
the edge of the blade to see how sharp it was.
A thick trail of blood ran down her finger. As

(06:33):
she misjudged howard to press, she stuck her finger in
her mouth. A howl erupted out in the night. She
didn't know wolves lived in these woods. She turned towards
Brandon to see if he had heard it, but he
was still snoring. She tried to place where the howl
had come from. In her mind. She thought it came

(06:53):
from the same area as the screams they thought they
had heard earlier. It's just my imagination, and she whispered
and tried to close her eyes, but she was filled
with nervous energy. She thought about how if Brandon was awake,
she would take him up on his offer, just to
have the companionship. At that moment, she thought about waking

(07:15):
him up. She knew if she did, he would be pissed.
Was that a twig snap? She sat up in the tent.
It sounded really close to the tent. The hairs on
her arms rose up and gave her goose bumps. She
looked down at the knife and realized she was holding
it as hard as she could. The handle was sticky
from where she bled from the cut. Okay, that time,

(07:37):
it was definitely close to camp. She tapped Brandon on
the shoulder. He could be as pissed as he wanted
to be. She needed him right now, but he didn't stir.
It was then that she saw the shadow pass over
the tent. What the fuck was that, she wondered, and
poked Brandon harder. The large shadow stopped near the flaps

(07:59):
of the tent, and she could hear a sniffing sound. Fuck, fuck, fuck,
it's a bear, she whispered and started to shake in fear.
A low growl came from outside. A shadowy appendage rose
in the darkness, and she could see claws of the beast.
She punched Brandon in the face and he woke up.

(08:21):
What the he started to say, but she put her
hand over his mouth and pointed to the tent entrance.
His eyes grew huge as he saw the shape in
the moonlight. The sniffing continued. He reached down to his
waist for the knife, but it wasn't there. The shadow
moved toward Daria's side of the tent, and she practically

(08:41):
leaped on top of Brandon. She saw the thin fabric
stretch as the animal pushed against it, with its face
still sniffing. She looked down at her hand. Oh shit,
she whispered, and showed Brandon her bloody finger. He took
the knife from her and rolled his eyes. He pulled
his pants on his A growl came from behind them.

(09:02):
The tent shook from the animal probing it. He grabbed
her and pointed towards the flap on the tent as
he handed her the car keys. She tried to protest,
but he shook his head. Her heart pounded in her chest,
but her limbs felt heavy, almost frozen. She wasn't sure
she could make a run for it. The growling stopped

(09:24):
and all was silent for a moment. The shadow moved
off the tent into the woods. They could hear footfalls
of whatever it was. Brandon made his way to the
zipper on the tent and undid it. Slowly now, he said,
and opened the flap. She hesitated for just a moment,

(09:45):
and he pushed her out of the tent, following right
behind her. She scanned the campsite for whatever it was,
but didn't see anything. A great howl came from behind
the tent that made her move. She took off to
the short trail towards the car. In the darkn she
heard Brandon behind her. Oh shit, oh shit, he said,
and she turned around to see what he was talking about.

(10:07):
A great black shape in the darkness charged after them,
and she ran to the car and yanked the door open.
She turned her head towards Brandon and saw him fifteen
feet from the car. The large black shape bounced with
lightning speed and landed on his back, driving him to
the ground. No, she screamed, and the beast looked up
in her direction. Its yellow eyes glowed reflecting the moonlight.

(10:30):
She'd never seen a bear up close before, but she
knew instantly that it wasn't a bear. Close the door,
Brandon called out to her from under the beast, which
had put a clawed hand down on the back of
his head, driving his face into the ground. She yanked
the door closed and plunged the key into the ignition.

(10:50):
The engine roared to life, and she turned on the
headlights and threw the car into reverse. She lined the
front of the car up with the camp so that
she could see what was happening. The beast, he didn't
know what else to call. It stood on its hind
legs like a human. Its face had a snout like
a dog's, and Its body was covered in cordid muscle
and silvery black hair, shining in the moonlight. She beat

(11:14):
the horn several times. Get the fuck off him, she
yelled at the the werewolf. There was no other way
to describe it. It was a goddamn werewolf. The beast
roared and leapt onto the hood of the car with
a metallic clang on impact, its snarling face a mere
inch from the windshield. She watched as saliva dripped from

(11:34):
its canines as long as a thumb. Tears streaked across
her face, and she wiped her hand across her brow.
Behind the werewolf, she could see Brandon getting to his
knees in the headlights. She waved her hands around, trying
to keep the creature's attention, its yellow eyes darting back
and forth watching her movements. Snarls escaped its mouth as
it watched her. A clawed hand so much like a human's,

(11:58):
pounded on the glass, making tiny cracks in the windshield.
Brandon darted around towards the passenger side of the suv.
The movement caught the werewolf's eye, and within human speed,
it dove on top of Brandon. Daria watched as its
clawed hand sunk into Brandon's back like a hot knife
through butter. Blood began to seep from the wounds as
Brandon screamed out in pain, so much like the screams

(12:21):
she had heard earlier. Frantic, she looked around the front
seat looking for anything to help, but she came up empty. Go,
Brandon managed to say between screams. She didn't want to
leave him here. She put the car in gear and
backed it up a little. The headlights illuminated a grizzly
scene in front of her. Brandon was lying face down.
His back was covered in blood. The werewolf still had

(12:42):
its claws embedded in her boyfriend's back. She beated the
horn to get its attention. Fuck you, teen wolf, she said,
and floored it. The car struck the beast on the
left hips, spinning it around. As the car drove across
the narrow, dirt logging road and struck a tree, smoke
rose from the dented hood in the headlight. Shit, she said,
and looked in the rearview mirror. She saw Brandon lying

(13:04):
there in the road, but she didn't see the beast.
Maybe she'd taken it out. She tried to back the
car up but it was stuck. The tires spun in
the ditch the front end had fallen into. Brandon moved
an arm. He was still alive. She had to help him.
She craned her neck around and saw no sign of

(13:26):
the monster. She opened the car door and raced to
her boyfriend. Why didn't you go, he asked between gurgles
as blood escaped his mouth. She lifted the blue flannel
shirt he was wearing and saw the hole in his back.
She had expected a few puncture wounds, but this was
a gaping hole. I'm not leaving you behind, she said,

(13:48):
Can you get up? No, just go, he said, I
can't feel my legs. She looked at his injury again
and it suddenly became clear. The hole in his back
was where his spine should have been. A good nine
inches of it was missing. She heard a snarl behind her,

(14:11):
and she turned. The beast was backlit from the crashed car.
She looked at its clawed hand it held Brandon's spine.
It approached her and swung it at her, striking her
in the face with her boyfriend's backbone. She fell over
backwards on the far side of Brandon, who screamed again.
The beast stood on top of him and sniffed toward her.

(14:34):
It was her blood that had brought the beast to
their campsite, she thought. It snarled at her and put
one hairy, clawed finger on the back of her boyfriend's neck,
as if teasing her. The werewolf's intelligence was apparent in
its cruel eyes from this close, Please, she begged between sobs,

(14:58):
Please leave us alone. The werewolf looked down at Brandon,
then back at her, as if deciding who it wanted more.
Leave him alone, you son of a bitch, she yelled out,
and the werewolf sent her tumbling with a back hand slap.
She rolled into a pine tree, and it knocked the
wind out of her. She tried to get to her feet,

(15:19):
but her body wouldn't yet respond. She heard a wet,
snapping sound coming from the road, and she winced, knowing
it came from her boyfriend. A moment later, she could
finally move. She stood unsteadily, using the tree to help
her up. The werewolf had its back to her as
it snacked on Brandon, gnawing into his upper arm. Brandon

(15:41):
wasn't screaming any more. He had to be dead, she thought.
She wiped her hair out of her face and took
a step towards the monster. It didn't seem to notice
her yet. Two more steps, and she watched in horror
as the monster devoured the love of her life. Her
fright started to fade miraculously, and a calm it took

(16:07):
over her. Cold and calculating, her mind thought of all
the stories she'd heard about werewolves and how to kill them.
There were no silver bullets or silver anything around for
that matter. She wondered if fire would kill it, but
the campfire had gone out, and she doubted the werewolf

(16:27):
would wait for her to start another another step. She
could smell the animal. She could smell Brandon's blood on
the beast. As it huffed and growled, Its blood lusted ecstasy.
A glint in the moonlight caught her eye, and she
couldn't believe her luck. Just behind the beast, by Brandon's

(16:49):
feet was the knife. She crouched carefully and grabbed it
in her hand. With a surge of courage, she jumped
on the creature's back, swinging the knife around and plunging
it into its neck. A scream rutted from the beast.
She felt it reverberate through the werewolf's body. It tried
to stand, and she held on with everything she had.

(17:11):
As the beast thrashed around, she heard ripping as the
knife cut deeper into it. It swung its arms around,
trying to grab her, but failed. It did manage to
cut her legs and hips up with its wild swings,
though it stood at its full height and started to
back up while trying to swing its head around to
bite her. She put her free hand around the thing's

(17:31):
neck under the jaw, but not before it nipped her.
She screamed in pain and could see the blood poured
from her forearm. With a better grip, she pulled the
knife towards her, ripping into the werewolf's flesh. Carving her
way around it. She could see a gap in its flesh.
She pulled harder. The beast backed its way into a tree,
trying to crush her beneath its weight and the hard surface.

(17:54):
She nearly lost her grip on the knife as it
grew so slippery from all the blood. It howled in
pain and fell down to all fours. Daria sat on
its back, pulling on its doglike ears to expose the
throat better She pictured what it looked like from down
the road and smiled thinking about someone finding her writing
on the back of a werewolf. It's funny how the

(18:17):
mind wanders at the weirdest times, she thought. She reached
around as far as she could and replanted the knife
into the werewolf's throat. Its frantic movements had begun to slow,
and she finally had some hope she might come out
of this alive. The werewolf fell over on its side
and she lost her grip. The knife was under the body.

(18:39):
Disgusted with even the thought of doing so, she wrapped
her undamaged arm under the jaw of the beast and
yanked upwards as hard as she could. Tissue ripped and
gave way, and the beast wasn't fighting anymore. She adjusted
and got a grip with both hands and yanked. She
heard a loud pop and the head came loose. She

(18:59):
fell over back backwards, still clutching the severed head in
her hands, She dropped it and got back to her feet.
She stumbled around the body back to Brandon, but it
was too late. He was dead. She wiped blood from
her arm on his flannel shirt and removed his belt
for a tourniquet. She looked at the monster that had

(19:21):
ruined her life in the light from the full moon
and spit on it. A few moments later, she'd started
the fire up again and walked back to the road
to grab the body of the monster to burn. When
she arrived, there was no creature. A naked, middle aged
man's severed head stared back at her as she dragged

(19:43):
its body to the fire. She wasn't taking any chances.
The smell of the burning body was too much to bear,
and she headed back to the road to see if
she could get her car unstuck. She tried to rock
it back and forth, but it wasn't going to budge.
She gave up and looked down the logging road. It

(20:04):
was about two miles to the highway. She could walk
that and hope to hitch for a ride back to
the city. She put one foot in front of the
other and started out down the road. The winding path
was illuminated from the full moon through the break in
the trees above. After about three minutes, she saw a

(20:24):
fire and hope swelled up inside her. There was another camp.
She could hitch a ride with them and get out
of here. As she approached the site, she could smell
a sweet smell. It was nearly intoxicating. What was that?
She thought? Was it some morse? It was more enticing

(20:46):
than anything she'd smelled before. She approached the camp site,
slowly peering through the trees at the campers within. Ow Thomas.
That really hurt. Look, look, I'm bleeding, came a female
voice from within. I'm sorry, babe, I was only joking,
she heard a male voice call out. She licked her
lips at the smell and was startled to find her

(21:09):
canine teeth felt so much bigger. She felt something moving
under her skin and watched in surprise horror as her
nose grew into a snout. What was that noise? Daria
heard the woman say. It was hard to make it
out now that all the other four sounds were suddenly louder.

(21:31):
She stepped into a clearing, trying to calm the campers,
but the woman's scream surprised her. Where wolf. The woman
screamed and pointed at her, but she didn't notice because
she was focused on the woman's bleeding wound. Eh. Real

(21:57):
Monsters from Nepa by Michelle Adler. I don't know about
the new kid. Don't you think he's a little weird.
Tom McCullough whispered, leaning slightly over his desk to get
closer to his friend. A little weird. Come on, he's
a freak. Jacob nodded. They both snickered. In front of

(22:20):
them sat Patrick Marshall Sherwood, the third, the aforementioned new kid.
His incredibly formal sounding name wasn't really befitting his posture,
hunched over, staring at his desk and wincing at their laughter.
His dyed black shoulder length hair, eyeliner and all black
wardrobe should have succeeded in making him look dangerous, but

(22:41):
in reality it just made him look tired and pale.
I have to admit I felt bad for the kid.
The rumor around school was that his dad had been
killed by a pack of feral dogs while he and
Patrick were camping somewhere in the mountains of Georgia. Patrick
had somehow escaped me his end there, but he hadn't

(23:01):
gotten away easily. His face and arms were covered in
a multitude of deep, gnarly scars from the event, a
permanent reminder that he and only he had survived something
truly horrible, and not by much. To be fair, he'd
have been an ugly kid even without the scars. He
was just a little too lanky and awkward for me

(23:24):
to believe he'd ever been cool. Life ain't really fair,
I guess. I didn't know how much if any of
the story was just dumb rumors. I wasn't even sure
if Georgia had mountains. But if it was true, he'd
picked just about the worst town to move to if
he and his mom were trying to escape their tragic passed.

(23:45):
Our town, located in a quiet corner of northeastern Pennsylvania,
was mostly rural, encompassing part of the valley and a
lot of the surrounding woods. That might sound fine, though
maybe boring on paper, but incidents involving feral dogs at
ollds been common here. Usually it was just pets and
small animals that went missing, but lately some cows had

(24:07):
been found halfway eaten, dotting the nearby farms. Some more
people were on edge than usual. Not really a vacation
from their grief, is what I mean. So back to
the story. Those chuckleheads kept up with their insults for
a while, calling him every name they could think of
poking him, sticking gum on his back, you name it.

(24:28):
You'd probably have thought that our English teacher, missus Alder,
just kept blathering on about Shakespeare during all this. I
wish she'd take notice, but she was so hard of
hearing that I wasn't sure she could even hear what
she was saying half the time. She was so old
and fragile looking that I often wondered if she'd escaped
a nursing home every morning just to come and teach us.

(24:51):
It wasn't fair, though. I sat directly behind Tom in
the last row of desks against the window, like a
true delinquent. I was bouncing my leg waiting for I
don't know, a sign that I should jump in. I'm
not proud of the fact that it took Patrick brushing
teardrops off his desk for me to do something. I

(25:12):
reached forward and punched the back of Tom's chair hard
enough to get everyone, including our teacher's attention, stop making
fun of him, or the next thing I punch will
be your face, I shouted. I saw Tom and Jacob
flinch from behind. Marisa, missus Alder, spat sternly, miraculously cured
of her partial deafness for a moment. How many outbursts

(25:33):
do we really need to have this week? But they were,
I tried. No one will be picking on poor Patrick
in my classroom. It's not his fault. He's covered with
horrible scars, she continued. I watched Patrick cringe and the
whole class began to giggle. There I go, again, making

(25:54):
matters worse. I left school late that day, long after
the buses and carpools had gone, basically my normal routine.
Gotta make sure I don't run into any trouble. You see,
Like our scarred up sad boy, I too was the
subject of the other kid's hatred. But unlike him, I
actually knew how to stand up for myself and I

(26:14):
could hold my own in a fight. Still, I didn't
like to start trouble. I just relished in it when
it came calling. But even if I won, bites and
scratches do hurt, after all, So it was better to
avoid the rest of the student body when we were unsupervised,
especially in the middle of the afternoon in broad daylight.

(26:35):
Who needs that kind of attention. However, on this particular day,
waiting until my usual time four pm to leave wasn't enough.
I pushed open the side entrance, and there was Patrick.
He sat on the curb, his posture the same as earlier,
the cool autumn breeze blowing his hair over his face.
I held my breath, trying to be comically quiet and

(26:58):
sneak away before already noticed. I just wanted to get
home and not do my homework. Until again I realized
he was crying. I sighed and plopped myself down next
to him, waiting for your folks to pick you up.
Oh right, I forgot dead dad. Your mom running late,

(27:19):
I corrected myself. I don't think she's coming, he said, softly,
continuing to focus on the puddle of tears collecting on
the asphalt. I realized this was the first time i'd
heard him speak. She's been different since. I can tell
she doesn't like to look at me. Sometimes I think

(27:40):
she forgets me on purpose. I would just try to
walk back, but I don't know how to get home
from here. I can't even look it up because a
couple of kids from class pushed me and my phone
broke my fall. You just gonna sit here all night, then,
I was hoping to I like the dark. I honestly

(28:02):
couldn't tell if that line was supposed to be sarcastic.
Come on, tell me where you live. I'll walk you home,
I offered, as I stood up and brushed myself off.
You're not going to trick me and leave me halfway
and steal my wallet, right, he asked expectantly. Well, geez,
not anymore. I'm not. Patrick let out a little chuckle. Okay,

(28:24):
maybe we could make this work. I'm Marisa, I said,
helping him up, and I promise I won't hurt you us.
Freak's got to stick together. As it turned out, Patrick
only lived one block over from me and the cute
little cape cod that old mister Patel owned before he
got sick and had to move in with his kids.
It was great because I didn't really have to go

(28:46):
out of my way, but also a little sad because
I only lived six blocks from the school. He was
crying over a ten minute walk. I agreed to help
him find his way back to school the next morning
and walk home with him again the following afternoon. Like
I said, freaks need to stick together. So is it
true about what happened to your dad? I asked on

(29:08):
our walk home. The following afternoon, Patrick stopped dead in
the center of the sidewalk. Isn't it obvious it is?
He touched one of the scars on his arm tenderly.
My dad is dead, my mom probably blames me, and
I look like some villain from a slasher film. My
life is totally ruined. Oh that's a little dark, dude.

(29:31):
I'm sorry. No, it's better if I just lean into it.
I'm a monster now and I have to get used
to it, he sighed. Us monsters got to stick together.
I said, like it was my tagline or something. Marisa,
he said bluntly, you are not a monster. I furrowed
my brow. He was silent the rest of the walk home.

(29:53):
I felt bad for bringing up his dad and wouldn't
have blamed him if I didn't even get a goodbye.
But when he was halfway up his he stopped. Marisa,
I need to tell you something, he began without turning around.
Can you keep a secret? What did I say five
minutes ago about us sticking together? Patrick paused for a

(30:13):
long time, like he was having trouble finding the right words. Listen,
you're gonna think I'm crazy, But that's okay. Even I
think I'm crazy sometimes, He clenched his fists tightly at
his sides. But when we were camping, when those dogs
showed up, they attacked me first. My dad fought so

(30:37):
hard to stop them and lure them away from me.
That's why he's dead, and I'm just this thing now.
It's not your fault. No, that's not what I mean.
When I was lying there, when they were tearing my
dad to shreds, I could have sworn I heard them
talking to each other. I could have sworn they were laughing.

(31:00):
What does that even mean? I guess it's possible that
I was delirious from blood loss. But if that's true,
then how come even now, when it's really quiet, I
can almost still hear them laughing. His voice was shaking
at this point. He was staring directly at me again,
his eyes full of fear. Are you saying, I don't

(31:22):
think they were dogs. I think they were something else, wolves, maybe,
I offered, Patrick let out a little pitiful laugh. No,
not wolves. So now you know the truth. I'm crazy.
Nice knowing you. I don't think you're crazy, Patrick, I said,

(31:45):
not sure if I was lying or not. Either way,
I don't think that's a good enough reason for us
to stop hanging out, he smiled in a mix of
confusion and relief. Thanks, Marisa, It seemed that letting someone
else share his secret took a lot of weight off
the poor guy's shoulders, because after that, he was a
lot more outgoing around me. The edges of his sadness

(32:07):
had been sanded down a little, and he actually let
me get to know him. And as it turned out,
Patrick was a pretty good kid. We were into the
same comics and video games and even got each other's humor.
We walked to and from school together every day for
the next couple of weeks, and my mom let him
stay for dinner most nights and sleep over on the weekends.
As much as I considered myself something of a lone wolf,

(32:29):
I had to admit it felt good to have someone
around that really got me. I guess this is what
it's like to have friends. Huh. Things stayed good for
a while. When the other kids realized that I had
taken him under my wing, a lot of the bullying stopped,
and when he was picked on, he had gotten pretty
good at standing up for himself. This, however, leads us
to the incident that threatened to shatter the small bit

(32:50):
of peace we'd begun to carve out for ourselves. Tom
and Jacob, the only two kids still brazen enough to
constantly mess with Patrick, had come up with a new
way to get under his skin. You see, whenever Patrick
tried to speak in class, or passed them in the hallway,
or even entered a room, they'd howl like wolves. Because

(33:10):
it was a relatively easy and safe way to upset him,
they were usually able to get whoever else was around
to howl along with them. I know it doesn't sound
that bad, but after three days of it, Patrick wasn't
looking too good. It happened in missus Alder's class, as
most bad things did. Man, she was a terrible teacher
and was discussing another terrible book that they tell you

(33:32):
as a classic and has all this symbolism, but was
just written by some dumb guy who probably didn't even
know what symbolism was. So who can tell me why
they think the author decided to make the badge read?
She asked. Everyone stayed perfectly still, dead eyed, hoping to
avoid being called on having to discuss colors. Well, everyone

(33:55):
except Patrick. He actually raised his hand. Ah, Yes, mister
Marshall Sherwood, please enlighten us. You see, there's not actual
was all I could hear before a cacophony of howling
delinquents overtook his quiet voice. Now, students, settle down and
let him finish. You can howl all you want on

(34:16):
the bus home, she said, sternly in her traditionally tone
death sort of way. Silence returned to the room. Patrick
tried again, there's not actually a The howling returned, then
quickly abated, go on, not actually a howling, then silence again,

(34:36):
a reason that howling, then silence. This pattern continued for
a tragically long time. I thought maybe he'd be struggling
to say that one sentence for the rest of the class,
until during that last interruption I saw something change in
his eyes. Patrick had finally snapped. He waited patiently for
the noise to calm and took a deep breath. Let

(34:59):
me art over. There's not actually a reason. This time.
He didn't stop when they began again. He just slowly
turned to Tom, who was directly behind him, grabbed him
by the collar, and punched him in the face repeatedly,
all the while continuing to relay his point. About the book.
When he was done, Tom's face was a mess and

(35:20):
there was no more howling. Ever, again, the rest isn't
really important. Patrick went to the principal's office and got
detention for the rest of the week, and Tom went
to the nurse and got everyone's sympathy. Even though he'd
gotten in trouble, Patrick's attitude drastically improved. The tension was
a small price to pay for being able to speak again.

(35:41):
This did mean that we couldn't walk home together for
a while, though on Fridays he would usually pack an
overnight bag and come straight home with me for the weekend.
But with detention and his mom grounding him for beating
Tom to a bloody pulp, Patrick told me we'd have
to skip our normal weekend hangouts. It was actually relieved
to hear it. It was a weird time of the

(36:01):
month for me, and our hangout would have been super awkward.
I felt I dodged a major bullet, and was also
thrilled that his mom was paying enough attention to know
he'd gotten in trouble and that she actually seemed to care.
I expected an easy Friday night, so I was surprised
that as I finished washing dishes from dinner and turned
off the water. I was alerted to a frantic knocking

(36:22):
at our front door. Maybe Patrick's mom had changed her mind,
I figured, disregarding the overwhelming panic that seemed to loom
in the constant banging. I was totally shocked when the
opening door revealed none other than the devil himself, Tom McCullough,
still bruised from his run in earlier in the week.
Panting hard, Why are you here? I asked. I really

(36:42):
couldn't think of a single reason he'd want anything to
do with me. He tried to catch his breath. I
where's Patrick? He pleaded, What you want a rematch? No? No, listen,
I think I messed up. He was still trying to
catch his breath. Had he ran all the way here?
You want to apologize? Well, he isn't here. He's at home, grounded.

(37:06):
I was ready to close the door and get back
to my evening. No, he isn't. I went there first.
His mom said he never came home. After detention, I
was hoping I was wrong and that he's here. But
oh no, I really messed up. His voice trembled. What
are you trying to say? Tom? Maybe I already knew.
My dad was pretty upset that I got beat up,

(37:28):
and I was really angry, so I said some things
about Patrick that maybe I shouldn't have. You know, we
own the farm on Schoogl Road, right, and you know
some of our animals have been killed lately. Right, well,
he he thinks. Tom struggled with how to say the
next part. I could feel adrenaline creeping into my limbs.

(37:50):
I heard him talking to his friends this afternoon, and
I saw him load silver bullets into his shotgun. Marisa,
he knows everything felt fuzzy. Where would they take him?
I had to think, clearly, there's woods on our property,
fifteen acres of it. We can basically do anything we

(38:11):
want out there. Okay. I pushed him out of the
way and proceeded down my steps. The sky was already
turning pink and purple with the coming of evening. There
was no more time. There was going to be a
full moon tonight. Wait, I'll come with No, it's dangerous
and you've messed up enough, I thundered, not bothering to

(38:32):
look back. This is why we don't tell adults things.
They always get all murdery. Marisa, you have to understand
I didn't mean for this to happen. Sure, I've been
messing with Patrick, but I would never want him to
get He paused, hurt. I tried to stop. My dad
tried to pretend I was lying about the whole thing,
but he's so set on well you know that he

(38:56):
wouldn't listen to me. I turned toward the direction of
the farm and off running Marisa. Tom called out, but
he was far behind me. Now there was no way
I could be there before the sun went down, but
maybe I could still get there in time to stop them.
By the time I reached Tom's family farm, the last
threads of daylight were fading from the sky. I was exhausted,

(39:17):
but confident that I was about to get my second wind.
The woods were dark and cool, and I could feel
myself returning to my senses. I picked up speed, heading
in the direction I was now confident I would find them.
Please let me make it in time. Eventually, distant chatter
alerted me to Patrick's location. I approached quietly, hiding myself

(39:39):
in the underbrush while I gaged the situation. Crickets and
frogs had begun to sing in the blackness of the evening,
seven adults with flashlights were gathered in a circle. I
couldn't see him, but I knew Patrick was in the center.
Each man was carrying a firearm on his shoulder or
holding one in his hand. I was not relieved to
confirm that Tom had been telling the truth. Please, I

(40:02):
don't understand what you're talking about. What would I want
with cows? I'm a vegetarian. A voice that had to
be Patrick's pleaded in the back of my mind. I
got a weird feeling that something wasn't right, but brushed
it off. Listen, we know it was you. I mean,
a kid who's been attacked by feral dogs shows up
and we just coincidentally start losing livestock. I don't need

(40:25):
to be a statistician to see the connection. A man
that was probably Tom's dad was saying, confess now, and
maybe we'll be kind enough to let you live out
the rest of your life in a cage. I swear
I didn't do anything bad. I don't know what you've heard,
but please, I'm telling you the truth. Patrick begged. We'll
see about that in a minute. Any minute now, mister

(40:49):
McCullough said, looking up at the sky. One of the
other men cocked his rifle. I'm tired of waiting. Let's
get this over with. I'm missing my shows. A few
of them began to argue about the merits of killing
my friend now as opposed to later, and that was
really enough for me. I moved forward slightly, twigs snapping
under my weight, and let out a loud, guttural cry

(41:10):
that just about shook the earth. The entire forest went
completely silent and stayed that way. I saw fear overtake
the murderous group as they tried to find the source
of the noise. I emerged confidently from my hiding place.
Let him go, I howled. The blood collectively drained from
their faces as they got a good look at me.

(41:32):
I positioned myself to look as large as possible, my dense,
wiry hair standing on end, teeth exposed in a snarl,
saliva dripping from my jagged mouth. They pointed their guns
in my direction, but I charged forward and latched onto
the closest one, pulling it away from its owner and
smacking him in the head with it. He hit the
ground with the resounding thud. I bit into the rifle

(41:54):
and broke it into pieces with my massive jaws as
easily as if it had been a cracker. You really
think your tiny bullets can stop me, I wailed. They
inched back, still surrounding Patrick, but I was winning. Just
one more push, guys, shoot him already. Oh thanks, mister McCullough.
I've had enough. I lunged at them, ready to do

(42:16):
whatever I had to, But that was enough to send
them running for their lives, scurrying away like the cockroaches.
They were cowards, I huffed. Patrick was still on the ground,
His hands were tied, and he looked a little beaten up.
He stared up at me, his whole body shaking and fear.
I poked my nose in closer and sniffed at his face,

(42:38):
trying to wrap my mind around the situation, then went
for his hands. He flinched at my hot breath, not
seeming to realize that I was chewing through the ropes
and not his fingers. It's okay, You're okay, I assured him,
but he was just hopelessly confused. Suddenly his posture shifted. Marisa,

(43:02):
you're why are you a werewolf? Patrick? Why are you
not a werewolf? I don't know how to answer that.
You aren't going to eat me, are you? Well? Not anymore?
I'm not, I groaned. Us monsters got to stick together,
after all. The Wolf of Fagan County by David O'Hannon.

(43:35):
Maybe Whistler was a nice town once. It seemed that
way until the summer of eighty six. The old folks
always whispered about certain places, about the places you don't go,
and the boogeyman that dwelled within. Everyone in Fagan County
knew a local ghost story. Back then, I loved to

(43:57):
hear those stories. Nowadays, not so much. My dad trucked
crops from the farms into the neighboring states of Louisiana
and Mississippi. I didn't see much of him. He left
before dawn and got home after sunset. The day before
my thirteenth birthday, he took a load to Shreveport. I

(44:18):
awoke to a stack of used horror comics the next
morning with a note that read, you're old enough for
the good ones now, Soldier. I loved the way those
pages smelled After all these years, I still have a
couple of them in the suit cases I live out
of I'd read through the entire bundle in a week,
I flipped through them and found the one I'd enjoy

(44:39):
the most for a second visit. When my mother called
from downstairs, Connie, come quick, she shouted. I hated when
she called me that it was bad enough being named Conrad.
The effeminate nickname caught on with my friends in second grade,
and then with the rest of the student body by
the end of recess, something said rounded off in her voice.

(45:01):
As I trudged down the narrow staircase that descended into
the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the table, with her
elbows pressing into the vinyl top and her hands hiding
her face. My sister Lisa had her head down, shrouded
in her arms, her body convulsed as she bawled noisily inside.
I held my breath all the way to the table.

(45:24):
No one spoke to me. As I slid the chair
away from the edge and eased my way into it.
Mom reached over and put her hand on mine. Something
terrible's happened, she whispered. Something terrible had happened a few
weeks ago too, and a few weeks before that we'd

(45:44):
discussed both of those events as a family. No one
was crying, then, sure, Mom, had been shaken up by
the discovery of the first body, but it seemed like
nothing to worry about. We all knew old man mcgera
from around town. He would pop out like a magician's
rabbit to grump about what a bunch of slack jawed

(46:05):
hippie spawn all the kids were whenever you least expected it.
The police said it was a heart attack that took him,
and that coyotes took to eating his remains. Grotesque and
unseemly as it were, my folks delivered the news to
my sister and me with just the facts and reminded
us to stay away from the woods. Coyotes rarely attacked people,

(46:25):
but Dad said there's something different about any animal, including man,
once they got a taste for blood. The second time
we were called to the table, it was clearly more bothersome.
Mom wasn't handling it well, but she remained calm as
she told us about the bodies found along Country Road
sixty three. A couple of teens gone to make out

(46:47):
got cut up real bad. Chief Hardesty said it was
just a freak occurrence, a crime of opportunity, and that
the killer was likely long gone. Our parents told us,
to be home thirty minutes before sundown after that, and
to never go anywhere alone, just in case this time
was different, Connie, she started tugging at the silver locket

(47:12):
dangling from her thin neck. Her voice trembled. It's Brenda.
My stomach nodded. Brenda Knowles had been Lisa's best friend
since kindergarten. She'd babysat for me on a few occasions,
and came to eat dinner with us every Wednesday. She
was my first crush too. I sniffled, but held back

(47:33):
any other reaction until Mom could finish. Maybe it wasn't
what I thought. Maybe those old tales from the Crip
comics were poisoning my imagination the way Father Dean said
they would at youth service. Maybe she was just moving away.
That would explain why they were so upset, Chief Hardesty
Founder this morning. Mom continued, Nope, it was exactly what

(47:59):
I thought it was. I don't remember the exact moment
that I realized the killings were exactly one month apart,
but I do remember Lisa raising her face to stare
at Mom and then me in turn. Her lips quivered,
and then she stood up fast enough to knock the
chair to the floor. She slammed her fists onto the

(48:21):
table and screamed that I'll never forget that look and
those words. She was eaten. Lisa cried until she passed out.
That night, I watched the news with Mom to see

(48:43):
if the police had anything to say. The station's newest reporter,
Rex Willetts, looked like he'd been sick as he raised
the microphone close to his chin. His hand shook slightly,
and his trademark smile was nothing but a thin line
of white teeth below his bushy mustache. Rex nodded slowly

(49:04):
and started his report. When the phone rang in the
kitchen and Mom went to answer, I'm here at the
Ridley Funeral Home in Fagan County to report on a grisly,
unimaginable crime, Rex started. He swallowed hard. The body of
fifteen year old Brenda Knowles was found just before dawn
this morning. Brenda had been babysitting for family friends the

(49:25):
prior evening. She started the short walk to her home
just before eleven PM. I turned my attention to Mom's
shouting in the kitchen. What do you mean two days, Paul,
She growled, It doesn't take two damn days to get
a mechanic. Dad's truck broke down. That happened a lot
when he was hauling rice to Shreveport. Only then though

(49:48):
Mom noticed two. She had a pretty good idea of
what was going on. What about the kids, she wailed,
You know what's going on here? You're leaving us alone?
So you Her voice became mu and I scooted closer
to the television to hear what Rex had to say.
I heard the phone slam against the receiver several times,
and Moms stomping up the steps. I've seen the body,

(50:13):
my God in heaven. I'll never unsee it now, Rex said.
When movement caught his attention, he snapped his fingers and
pointed his cameraman in the direction of the police chief.
Other reporters rushed in around him. Rex elbowed one of
them out of his way and reached in with his
mic don't you buzzards have anything better to do? Chief
Hardesty barked, a child's dead. For Christ's sake? How Rex asked,

(50:35):
how did she die? Violently? Hardesty answered, in his low
gruff drawl, is this related to last month's double homicide?
A woman asked, we don't have conclusive evidence linking the two.
This early in the investigation. Hardesty said his shoulders sagged.
There are similarities. Were the other victims missing flesh and muscle?

(50:58):
Rex quizzed him, were there bitemarks on them as well?
Hardesty glared at Rex and then spoke with forced restraint.
At this time, I'm asking all residents of Whistler in
the outlying areas to stay indoors at night. The curfew
is merely a request. However, the wail of sirens cut
the report short. We wouldn't find out until the morning

(51:20):
that they'd found another body. Crazy Dolores lived in a
shack on the edge of town. She sold herbal remedies
and told fortunes for a dollar. No one knew how
long she'd been dead. I climbed into bed, but didn't
dare go to sleep. I opened a comic and thought
about Dad. Maybe the rig really broke down, but I

(51:42):
didn't buy it. He was spending time with some woman
in a strange way that made me feel better. He
was more worried about getting laid than he was about
the killer on the loose, so maybe it wasn't a
big deal. My door creaked open, and Lisa slipped through
that gap. I laid the comic down. I didn't know

(52:04):
what to say. Sorry, your friend was brutally murdered and
partially eaten. Really didn't seem like it helped the situation.
Then again, we're going to find Brenda's killers. Wasn't a
winner either, But that's exactly what Lisa said as she
leaned on my dresser. I gawked at her and waited
for what felt like an eternity for her to say
something else. Look, Connie, she started, then paused and chewed

(52:30):
her bottom lip. Chief Hardesty is a scumbag. He's going
to pin all this on the first person that ain't
Baptist enough for him. Then the murderer is just going
to drift away. I was still too young to know
how common that sort of thing was around there, or
what kind of man Baxter Hardesty really was. I did
want to make sure that Brenda's killer got caught. However,

(52:53):
the killings are about a month apart, I said, hesitantly,
unsure of exactly what I discreted, I shrugged. What if
the killer travels and just stops through here every few weeks,
or lives here and returns home once a month. Lisa
offered Dad's friend, Ted is a long haul driver. I

(53:13):
remembered Ted tried to convince Dad to work with him
all the time. I also remembered Ted coming to my
birthday party. I shook my head. I'm pretty sure he's
out of town right now. I scratched the two recently
sprouted hairs on my chin. What about a delivery driver,
Brown's only gets a few deliveries a month. Lisa thought

(53:36):
it over and nodded, okay, we'll go by and see
when they got a delivery. Thinking the conversation was done,
I lifted my comic. What is that, Connie, Lisa asked, shakily,
what are you reading? I closed the issue and looked
down at the cover. Bright yellow eyes stared up at
me above the fang's dripping blood over a broken skull.

(54:00):
I looked up at my sister. I knew what she
was thinking, and I wanted to tell her that she
was stupid. I wanted to, but I didn't. The same
thought hit me when I looked at those fierce yellow
orbs on the black cover. My stomach pitched as I
thought about the recent events. My eyes left the stare

(54:21):
of the beast and met my sisters. It's a werewolf,
I finally said. We tried to put the notion back
into our imaginations where werewolves were supposed to stay. Lisa
and I rode our bikes to Brown's General store just
past noon. The curfew officially started at sundown and was

(54:43):
no longer a request, not that it mattered. The streets
were already deserted. The baseball cards sputtering, and the bike
spoke signaled the arrival of Brad Breaker. Brad was between
Lisa and myself in age, so we hung out with
both of us. He was the definition of cool with
his acid washed jeans and his torn middrift Bruce Springsteen

(55:04):
t shirt. Brad could play guitar and football. He was
also muscular, with aquiline features and sandy blonde hair that
made him look like Patrick Swayze and Red Dawn and
made Lisa's brain stop working. My mom spazed when I
said I was leaving. Brad looked at the grocery store
and turned back to us. But you said it was

(55:24):
an emergency. You won't get in trouble, will you, nah?
Brad shrugged. My old man said experience builds character, and
that I needed to bring back more folgers. Lucky. This
is our first stop, I said, so why are we here.
Lisa looked to me, telling him our theory would have

(55:45):
been the right thing to do, but she thought he
was cute and hoped I, being closer to the childish
age to believe such things, would do it for her.
I did not. We want to find Brenda's killer, I said,
and waved at the street. Everyone's scared to death, but
we want to help. Why, Brad asked, I mean, why

(56:07):
do you think you can do it faster than the police.
I removed the wrinkled, somewhat neatly folded newspaper clippings and
handed them to him. Mister mcgara died and his corpse
was eaten by coyotes. That's what they say. Anyhow, there's
been a killing at the same time every month since.
Each of those victims was partially eaten as well, I said,

(56:27):
rattling off the facts as quickly as I could. I
think the killer comes to town once a month. We
think the murderer might be a delivery person or a
truck driver. So we want to ask the Browns if
they've gotten any shipments this week. Lisa added gnarly. Brad
nodded slowly. Let's get to work. The Browns deliveries turned
up bupkiss. We checked with every business in town for

(56:50):
the same results. That theory was as dead as Brenda,
which left us with only one other possibility till seven.
We stopped by the ice cream shop and got Sundays
for a quick sugar rush before dinner. I debated sharing
the werewolf idea. I'd been trying to dismantle it as
we asked around. If it was a werewolf, why did

(57:12):
the killing start only recently? Was anyone acting differently around town?
Was anyone new? What made someone a werewolf? So many questions,
but none of them ruled out the possibility. What if
it's stupid, Brad said, staring up at the now full moon.

(57:32):
What if it's a werewolf? Lisa choked and stared at me,
wide eyed over puffed cheeks full of banana split. I mean,
my pops tells me to stay away from Snyder Creek
because some kids died back in the twenties. Everyone says
that was a monster. Why couldn't this be one? Darn it?
I snapped my fingers and scooted my chair back with

(57:54):
a screech of steel feet against the sidewalk. Why didn't
I think of that? Think of what? Lisa asked. I've
heard that story too, I answered, the Snyder Creek ghoule.
They never found out what really happened, Lisa, we need
to go to the library and see if we can
find any old papers about it. Not a chance, Connie,

(58:18):
She pointed to the Sherbert Skyline. We need to get
home before dark. It's a long ride. The library's probably
already closed anyway, Brad offered. The cops are never going
to believe us. Lisa said, after tonight, he'll just be
a man. I reassured her. We'll have a month to

(58:39):
find out who the werewolf is and prove it. Crap.
Brad let his head hang most non triumphant. What Lisa
and I asked in unison. I forgot the coffee. He
put a foot on a pedal. I'm going to hustle
the Browns. See you later, he will. Brad's body wasn't

(59:06):
found for six days. Worst of all, strange as it
sounds to say, it like a bad thing. He didn't
get eaten. It would be a while before Lisa drew
a startling conclusion from the fact the curfew started an
hour earlier. After that, a citizen's patrol was organized as well.
It wasn't much more than a dozen yokels with spotlights

(59:28):
and guns driving the paved roads. However, they wouldn't go
down the miles of gravel paths where there weren't any
street lights to keep them safe. They didn't find the
werewolf either. All they accomplished was shooting a drifter who
was busking at the Crispy Chicken truck stop. Chief hardest.
He tried to pin the murders on that poor soul,

(59:48):
like Lisa had suspected he would, No one was buying it.
By that point, Dad had decided that between the new
woman and a monster running roughshod back home, he had
all the reason he needed to move to Louisiana. He
came while we were asleep to collect his things. We
spent every day tracking down information and investigating whatever absurd

(01:00:09):
idea came to us. It was two nights before the
next full moon when Lisa told me her troublesome theory.
He didn't eat bread because he was warning us, she
said somberly across the table. The local library had few
books on lycanthropy. We'd been reading them every night and

(01:00:30):
comparing them to the two clippings we had from nineteen
twenty six. When the Snyder Creek ghoule had struck, I
put the piece of paper I was using as a
bookmark between the pages of the tome and closed it.
What do you mean, I whispered, We were asking around
about delivery schedules, about people from out of town. She

(01:00:52):
shook her head. The wolf isn't a stranger. We know him,
and he heard us talking. He wants us to leave
him alone. I checked my watch and reached under the table,
wrestling with the zipper from my fanny pack. Then he
shouldn't have killed our friends, I growled. I pulled my

(01:01:12):
prize and set it where Lisa could see with a
heavy thump. Her eyes widened at the sight of cold
blue steel. Dad forgot it when he packed, I told her,
and lifted the Saint Christopher medallion our aunt had given
me for my birthday. I've got this and six silver dollars.
We can make two or three bullets with that. We

(01:01:33):
don't know how to make bullets, Otto Dickens does, I
pointed out, We have time to get to his store
and back home. If we go right now, we're not
hunting this damn thing. Connie. Lisa stood quickly and looked
around at the mostly empty library. She lowered her voice.
We should stop this. If he killed Brad to scare

(01:01:54):
us off, then he knows who we are. We need
the bullets. Regardless her face face twisted with contempt. She
knew I was right and scooped her backpack before heading
to the exit. We rode our bikes to the fork
in the road, left to our house or right to
otto Dicken's gun shop. Lisa didn't speak as she leaned

(01:02:15):
and pulled her shwind down the right hand street. I
smiled softly and followed. Most families in Whistler had lived
no further away than the county line for generations. Otto
just seemed to appear one day. Despite what you might
have heard about southern hospitality, it doesn't apply to strangers.

(01:02:36):
Otto had an uncanny ability with firearms. However, small towns
of rural Arkansas might have hated strangers, but they certainly
loved their guns. Otto was soon a welcomed member of
the community and set up a shop on the far
side of town. A couple of miles past the old cemetery.
The tarnished bell over the door announced our arrival with

(01:02:57):
whatever the hell a bell's version of us smoke cough
is Otto looked up from the reloading station, his face
twisted with curiosity as two teens entered his tiny store.
A long scar parted his wild white beard on the
left side of his face. He held up the cartridge he
was working on between his thumb and index finger. Best

(01:03:18):
goddamn rifle round in history, he said, in a voice
that sent a shiver racing up my spine. Forty five seventy.
I kept the chopped down Winchester in this caliber for
clearing tunnels. Can't hear much of shit anymore as a result,
but it could turn old Victor Charlie inside out in
those confined spaces he ever shot a man. Lisa and

(01:03:41):
I exchanged bewildered glances. How many kids could say yes?
Didn't think so? Otto deposited the finished cartridge into a
cardboard box beside him. Well, what can I help you with? Then?
Too early for hunting, Not where we're hunting, I said, Lisa,

(01:04:01):
elbowed me in the ribs and cleared her throat you
can make bullets, right, reckon, I can. Lisa held out
her hand and I gave her the items from my
fanny pack. Otto left his stool and prowled to her.
He bounced the coins and pendon in his palm. His
amber eyes darted from one of us to the other
before he snorted, you want silver bullets. He set the

(01:04:24):
materials on his counter and shook his head. That's a
shit idea. Silver's too dense. It won't take the rifling.
Unless you plan on shooting at a barn. You won't
be hitting nothing from more than a few feet muzzle
velocity with nosedive too, because the round is heavier than
your powder load. You won't mushroom either. They'll go clean

(01:04:47):
in an clean out shot shells. That's what you need
if you're lookin' to use silver. Lisa looked at me,
completely lost in the gunsmith's lesson in ballistic science. I
didn't understand it either. We don't have a shotgun, I
finally said. We have a Chief Special thirty eight, a
snub nose shooting silver bullets. Auto burst with boisterous laughter. Hell,

(01:05:11):
you kids might as well slathery yourselves in barbecue. Sauce
and yell here, puppy, if you plan on fight and
a werewolf. With that set up, my jaw fell open,
and I quickly glanced to my sister to find her
in the same state. Otto put a hand on each
of our shoulders. I hadn't noticed before, but three of
his fingers were missing from the one resting on me.

(01:05:33):
He hunkered slightly to look us in the eyes. Don't
look surprised. Ain't much else you could be doing with
silver bullets. He went behind the counter and pulled a
sawd off shotgun from beneath the register. My eyes drifted
to the black tape wrapped around the walnut stock and
the rough scratches where a serial number had once been reckon.

(01:05:56):
You can borrow this one, going to take about an hour.
The shells you believe us, I asked lots of things
in this world we pretend not to believe in No more,
pretend weren't real in the first place. He absently rubbed
the scar on his cheek with the nubs of his fingers.

(01:06:18):
We pretend until they started eating us. The sun was
just an orange razor's slash. By the time we got home,
we dropped our bikes in the yard and ran inside.
The shotgun mostly fit inside Lisa's backpack so we could
sneak it past Mom. Not that it mattered. All the

(01:06:39):
lights were off and she wasn't waiting for us like normal.
I headed for the living room while she stashed the
gun and changed clothes. How are you soldier, a gruff,
ragged voice asked from a darkened corner. The hairs prickled
on the back of my neck. At my dad's pet
name for me, He stepped out of the shadows. He

(01:07:01):
looked different and naked as he gracefully scaled the back
of the couch and perched on the cushion. The weak
glow of the mail ordered torch lamps shimmered on the
sweat slick hairs growing longer from his tight flesh. His
elongated nails scratched at the thick orange fabric of the sofa.

(01:07:22):
You can catch a lot from horse, he said. He
spoke slowly, like each word was new to him. Long
strands of drool slung from his mouth as he flexed
his jaw with a series of loud, painful pops. Your
ma knew tried to fix it with crazy Dolores. His

(01:07:46):
obsidian eyes focused on the coffee table. I saw mom's
locket sitting there next to the half full ash tray,
still wet with blood. It's not just the bite, he grumbled,
his words become deeper and more human. It's like the
clap I brought it home made her. Mister McGarrell was accident.

(01:08:12):
He shifted on the cushion. Things moved inside his body,
bones and muscles realigning, and he whined like a dog
in a sticker bush. He sprang over the table and
landed inches from me. His nose twitched as he took
in my scent. His lips didn't touch anymore. As the
fangs locked together, stiff fur covered his once chubby cheeks.

(01:08:36):
She couldn't control. He growled, his teeth snapped in front
of me. I can join pack, become come with me, soldier.
I quivered with fear, with hurt, with anger. I never
suspected my parents. I needed answers. Lisa screamed and broke

(01:09:01):
me out of his hypnotic gaze. His hand clamped over
my mouth. He watched the stairs, waiting for Lisa to
come down. I eased my hand to the fanny pack,
wiggling my fingers to stretch the zipper without the noise.
Connie Lisa called Dad, sniffed the air. I watched his
pointed ear twitch. He whipped his head back around to me,

(01:09:24):
and his eyes widened as the barrel pressed against his chest.
The thirty eight was louder than I remembered. The bullets
weren't silver, but they did the trick. He fell backwards
and crashed through the table. I fired the rest of
them into his face while he was down. He screamed
in pained behind me. While I darted for the stairs,
I slammed into Lisa, who was clutching the shotgun. I

(01:09:46):
think there's two of em. I wasn't listening. I jerked
the weapon from her hands and went to finish Dad off.
Only he wasn't there. Two bloody bullets rolled in the
debris of the coffee table. A shadow fell over me
from the kitchen. I threw myself to the floor, narrowly
dodging the swipe of my father's claws. I rolled onto

(01:10:08):
my back, and he looked more monstrous than before. His
face had contorted into a snout. The front window shattered,
startling me. My finger tensed on the trigger and the
silver buckshot tore through Dad's thigh, obliterating the wood paneling beyond.
I clambered up the stairs and Lisa pulled me to
my feet by my collar. We ran into our parents

(01:10:28):
bedroom and slammed the door behind us. I screamed when
I saw the body on the bed. It was Mom,
but just barely. Her features were still deformed, her body
still covered in the bristly fur of her new form,
and her head hung from the gnawed throat by a
few remaining strands of muscle. Everything Dad tried to tell

(01:10:49):
me suddenly made sense. His new girlfriend turned him, and
he turned Mom. That's how the werewolf knew we were snooping.
Mom was doing the killing while Dad joined his new
pack in Louisiana. I vomited at the foot of the bed.
What's happening, Lisa asked. Downstairs. Sounded like a dog fight, snarls,

(01:11:15):
yips of pain, furious barks, things breaking. I threw the
door open and whipped around the corner with the shotgun
raised and ready. Dad pounced onto the stairs. Blood gushed
from wounds, and he bared his fangs as he crawled
up the steps toward me. I pulled the trigger nothing happened.
I remembered duck hunting with him, and then my own folly.

(01:11:38):
I hadn't chambered another round. He drew closer as I
racked the slide, but it was too late. His claws
opened deep furrows in my thigh and I toppled backwards.
Then the other wolf came into view. It grabbed my
father's legs and pulled him down the steps before mounting
his back. The beast howled victoriously and glared at me

(01:11:59):
with amber eyes set in white fur. The monster clamped
its fully formed jaws down on the back of Dad's neck.
I heard the wet snap of the spine as it
shook its head from side to side. I stared at
the long scar parting its fur, at the claws digging
into its prey, and the missing fingers beside them. I

(01:12:22):
pressed the barrel of the shotgun to the back of
my father's skull and fired. The white wolf slunk away.
Brain matter and pieces of skull clung to its fur.
I pumped the shotgun again, and then the beast was gone.

(01:12:44):
By mourning, the bodies had fully reverted to their human forms.
Chief Hardesty didn't question anything. Dad was the killer and
mom was just a victim. We let him run with
that story before our aunt could come and pick us up.
We need to take care of one more thing. We
rode our bikes to Otto Dickon's shop and found him

(01:13:05):
assembling a pistol at his counter. Reckon the police seized
that gun. He said, simply, yeah, I answered, sorry, I guess.
I set my mother's locket on the counter and looked
at the gunsmith questioningly. Wolf's bane. He licked his lips.

(01:13:26):
It helps when you're young, when the moon is still
your master. He finished the pistol he was working on
and slipped it into a messenger bag. He pushed the
kid over to me, I haven't killed anyone in a
long time. In case you were wondering, he told us,
what do we do now? Lisa asked, different breeds of

(01:13:46):
wolf the world over. My kind don't have a pack here.
He pointed at the gauze around my leg. Your old
man's kind does you took from them? They'll take from you.
A wolf never forgets. You're just rabbits now, and there's
nothing left to do for a scared bunny but to run.

(01:14:09):
We took the bag Atto prepared for us and left
his shop. We didn't go back to the house and
wait for our aunt, though, we rode our bikes to
the outskirts of Fagan County and hitched a ride at
the Crispy Chicken. They caught up with us in Saint
Louis three years later. I buried Lisa behind a city park.

(01:14:30):
I rest in one place until I hear the bays
of the pack on those bright moonlit nights, and then
I disappear onto another stretch of asphalt, Always moving, always
staying ahead of the wolves, always ready to remind them
that rabbits have teeth too. Squirrels by Douglas Waltz. The

(01:15:03):
first time I saw the squirrel, I was jogging down
Marigold Street. It intersected with my street, Parker Street. My
route was simple enough. Out my front door, go left,
turn left down Marigold, which led all the way to
Gambrel Park and the running trails five miles out five

(01:15:26):
miles back. So the squirrel, unlike most squirrels you see
in trees or running across the neatly manicured lawns that
I ran by daily, was in one of the upper
floor windows of Missus Woodrow's house. The biggest problem with
that wasn't the fact that the squirrel was in the house.

(01:15:48):
It was that the house was empty. It had been
empty for the past month since Missus Woodrow had died.
She was a nice old lady, lived alone in her
eighty's husband long gone to the Great Beyond. I would
see her once in a while on my morning runs,
the consensual smile and wave each time, but that was

(01:16:11):
really it. I had heard from my friend Rob that
she had died. He was in the real itt her
business and in charge of selling the house. I saw
his fake smiling face on the sign planted in the
front yard near the sidewalk. I knew from that first
sighting of the squirrel. Rob would be mad. Wouldn't do
to have the house become infested with critters. Probably found

(01:16:35):
a spot up near the roof and got in that way.
I told myself to mention it to Rob the next
time I saw him, but each and every time it
just slipped my mind. Apparently a squirrel in a house
didn't make that big of an impression on me until
the following week, when I jogged past and there were

(01:16:55):
two squirrels just sitting up on their hind legs looking
out the window. The front side of the house had
three windows on the top floor and a huge picture
window that I assumed was in the living room, and
a smaller one on the other side that probably was
over the sink in the kitchen. So the squirrel population

(01:17:16):
had doubled in a pretty short period of time. The
second squirrel prompted me to call Rob, and he didn't answer,
so I left him a message telling him he might
want to look into an exterminator. And that was the
last I thought of Rob and Missus Woodward's house until
the third squirrel showed up. Now each window on the

(01:17:39):
top floor had a squirrel, all being really passive and
just staring out the windows. Soon the bottom floor windows
had squirrels as well. I could feel those soulless black
eyes staring at me as I jogged past each and
every morning. I could swear they were watching me. But

(01:18:00):
that's impossible. Squirrels don't do that. I was so sure
they didn't do that that I checked Google after my run. Yeah,
squirrels could care less what we are up to, as
long as we weren't trying to kill them. I had
no reason to kill the squirrels. Another week followed, and
soon the picture window had a line of squirrels in it,

(01:18:23):
and there were more than one of them in the
other windows. Seems the place was filling up fast, I
joked to myself. It made me chuckle. After three times
of reaching Rob's machine, I decided I could just let
Rob find out on his own that the late Missus
Woodward's lovely house was becoming a squirrel condo. What business

(01:18:44):
was it of mine? But it did seem like a
lot of squirrels. I had no idea how many squirrels
lived in a normal residential neighborhood, and that led me
back to Google. So yeah, for everyone you saw, there
could be more, a lot more. That unnerved me slightly.

(01:19:08):
Missus Woodward's house was a block from my own. Last
thing I needed was vermin trying to get into my house. Finally,
one day I noticed the for sale sign with Rob's
face was gone from the front yard. Windows were still
full of squirrels. Did someone move in and keep the squirrels?

(01:19:28):
I laughed at the absurd thought and stopped at the
walkway that led to the front door of the house.
What the hell, I actually said aloud. It broke the
quiet silence of the morning air, and I looked around
to see if anyone had heard me. Not a lot
of traffic in the neighborhood that early in the morning,
so I was good. I decided to walk up to

(01:19:50):
the front door and knock. Before my hand touched the door,
I noticed a weird, low, chittering noise that seemed to
emanate from the entire How many squirrels could be in there?
I almost knocked, but then the door opened. I tensed,
expecting a swarm of killer squirrels to leap from the

(01:20:13):
door right at my face. Instead, there was an old
man staring at me. He was small, slightly hunched, with
a face so filled with wrinkles he could have been
one hundred years old if he was a day. Yes,
he said in a weird, high pitched voice. I was speechless.

(01:20:34):
He continued to stare at me. I finally managed to
ask him about the squirrels. What squirrels? Came the same
high pitched voice. I leaned away from the door to
look up to the windows. I was going to point
out how they were filled with the little beasts, But
the windows were empty, not a single squirrel in sight.

(01:20:55):
I panicked, apologized, and took off running. I had gone
through blocks before I realized my brain had decided to
finish my run. There was a trickle of ice cold
sweat running down my back, and my face felt red hot.
The next morning, I told myself just skip a day.
I reassured myself that I ran every day religiously and

(01:21:18):
could miss one. I kept telling myself that as I
put on my shorts and a T shirt. I was
pretty sure I had convinced myself. As I was lacing
up my running shoes and a little shocked at my
own behavior. As my feet hit the sidewalk and I
started to run, I had to know. I had to
see for myself that some little old man had moved

(01:21:41):
into Missus Woodward's house, and the squirrels must have left
unless he was raising the squirrels. Why would people raise squirrels?
They couldn't make great pets meet Maybe I knew people
ate squirrels and they are awful small, so maybe he

(01:22:03):
was raising them in bulk to make it more profitable.
As I turned onto Marigold, the icy sweat returned. Where
would he sell squirrel meat? I never in my life
could remember seeing squirrel for sale in any supermarket I
had stepped foot in, maybe online as a specialty. All

(01:22:25):
of my assumptions were swirling in my brain as I
ran past the house. Windows filled with squirrels, and this
time I watched them all lock their black, beady eyes
on me. Their heads turned as they followed my progress
until I was past the house. At that point I

(01:22:47):
finished my run out of spite. Yeah, that'll teach those
damn squirrels. I laughed again at my own sense of humor.
Felt like maybe I laughed a little too long at
such a lame thought. The next morning, I was watching
the news and heard about a rash of robberies in
and around my neighborhood. It seemed that even the suburbs

(01:23:10):
weren't safe from the nearby city life of crime and violence.
I had installed a burglar alarm years ago, so it
wasn't a problem for me. I got ready for my
run and headed out the door, ready for my daily
squirrel encounter. As I approached the house, it felt like
something was off. Then I noticed it. There wasn't a

(01:23:34):
single squirrel in any of the windows, and the front
door was wide open. I slowed down as I reached
the walkway and agonized over what to do next. I
stared at the open door from the sidewalk. It was
just a black rectangle, no noise, no squirrels. I must
have stared at that doorway for what felt like an

(01:23:56):
hour at least, but knew it was just my nerves
exaggerating time. I decided to slowly walk towards the door.
Half Way down the walk, I realized I should probably
call the police. My hand went into my front pocket
and came up empty. I could see it lying on
my kitchen counter, mocking me for not remembering to take it. Idiot,

(01:24:21):
I whispered, as if I had some one there with
me and I didn't want them to hear. I inhaled
deeply and walked to the doorway, looking into the gloom.
It just looked like a normal house, not a sign
of a squirrel or the little old man who had
answered the door. I called out and waited no answer.

(01:24:45):
I called out one more time, with the same results. Finally,
I took my first step ever into what had been
Missus Woodward's house. It had an odd smell that I
recognized immediately. It was old people smell. Years ago I
had a part time job at a senior facility. I

(01:25:06):
went around and checked on the people who lived there.
It was a nice enough job. Most of them just
wanted to talk, so I heard some pretty fascinating stories.
But the smell was always there in each room. My
favorite person to visit with was mister mc cleary, Harrison McCleary,
ninety five years old. He had been in both world

(01:25:30):
Wars and had a story every time I visited. Finally,
one day I asked him what that particular smell was.
That's death, he said, matter of factly, when he saw
my puzzled face, he explained it to me. People decay
their whole lives. Sure there's some growth there at first,

(01:25:52):
but even then you lose old cells to be replaced
by new ones. As you near the end of your
journey here on this rock, you just don't move around
as much, so the smell has nowhere to go. That's
what you smell, perfectly natural. I had left it at
that made perfect sense to me. And now I was

(01:26:14):
in a house that I expected to find squirrel central,
and there wasn't a single one to be seen. I
flipped the switch near the front door, and the lights
blazed to life. Still no squirrels. Then I heard a faint, wet,
chewing noise coming from the kitchen. Against my better judgment,

(01:26:35):
I went to the kitchen. To this day, I really
wish I had just left and gone home to call
the police, but I didn't. The kitchen looked like a
tornado had ripped through it. Nothing was where it belonged.
The little table and chair set that had been a

(01:26:55):
breakfast nook was overturned, and on the floor were two figures.
One was the old man, but something looked wrong. He
looked flat, like he was just a suit of an
old man. There was no substance there, just skin. Next

(01:27:17):
to him was a pile of squirrels in the shape
of a man. Under them was another man. Each of
their little claws and mouths were bright red from the blood.
My panicked vision saw a gun lying near the man
being devoured, and as my thought processes fired through my brain,

(01:27:38):
I put it all together, the rash of burglaries, the
old man on the floor, the other man with the gun. Obviously,
the crook didn't realize that someone was home, got in
the house and surprised the old man. And but why
was the old man so flat. That was when I

(01:28:00):
noticed that the chewing noise had dissipated. I stopped trying
to look everywhere and focused on the body. All of
the squirrels were staring blankly at me. A few had
drops of blood fall from their mouths as they continued
to stare. I knew I had to get out, but

(01:28:21):
my legs were refusing the simplest command to run. I
took one step backward. The pile of squirrels flew off
the dead man in a flurry and headed for the
body of the old man. And then I saw it.
One by one in rapid succession. They squeezed into his mouth,

(01:28:43):
and the old man inflated and took form. As the
last one burrowed into his mouth, he stood up and
stared at me, the last squirrel's tail still hanging from
his mouth. The tail disappeared with a disgusting slurp. The
old man wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt,

(01:29:05):
staining its scarlet in the process. He took one step forward,
and in that high pitched voice, he said, get out.
My brain clicked, my legs came to life, and I
ran out of the kitchen. Two more steps that were
more like leaps. Put me at the front door, and
I vaulted back to my house. My mind registered the
door slam behind me, and I made my best time

(01:29:27):
ever getting back to my house, where I collapsed into
a sweaty ball of fear and disbelief. The next day,
clad in my running outfit, I reached the end of
my walkway that connected to the sidewalk and then I
made a right bringing out the wolf in me by

(01:29:52):
Rob Field. Seriously, what is it with guys here at
Strickfield High School? Not a place of learning for these dumbasses,
It's just a place to meet girls and try to
satisfy their raging hormones. I wish I'd stayed in Malibu
and taken my chances with those werewolf hunters there, but no,

(01:30:19):
I had to come back to Strickfield. Not only do
guys here refuse to leave me alone. And keep in
mind that Danielle Boyd made the cover of several fashion magazines,
including two nude spreads and Vanity Fair. They want to
be the alpha male to say they've taken me to bed.

(01:30:40):
I find myself saying alpha more since I was bitten
by a werewolf at the height of a lunar eclipse.
You'd think I'd turn into a she bitch during the
full moon, right right, No turns out. I go into
she bitch mode whenever I get pissed off, which ain't

(01:31:01):
hard for me since I got some serious anger issues anyway.
Once my fuse gets lit, I go through my pains,
my bones elongating, my hair prickling and growing out, my
fingers becoming claws, my mouth turning into a muzzle with
razor sharp teeth. Feeling all that pain pisses me off

(01:31:24):
even more. And don't get me started on how I
lose every bit of clothing I'm wearing. Once I'm the
she bitch, I stay that way until I finally calm down.
Believe it or not, I've stayed in she bitch mode
for as long as two days before finally calming down

(01:31:44):
and becoming me again. You'd think I could just calm
myself down, since I'm fully aware of myself while running
around Strickfield in my silver fur. Like I said, I
got curious anger issues. My roommate Darla Blake stopped trying
to tell me to get therapy. During my first session,

(01:32:08):
I wolfed out and wrecked the whole office. Okay, but
you're wondering what my condition has to do with what's
going on now. Right. Like I said, guys don't want
to leave me alone. I guess that's on me when
you're an ex supermodel and people won't let you forget it. Hell,

(01:32:28):
I even wolfed out once after a brainless jock slapped
my ass not too long ago. But let's talk about
one particular asshole that goes to Strickfield High, shall we.
Keenan Dorfmann just transferred to my school after getting booted
out of Strickfield Academy. Supposedly he was scoring way too

(01:32:52):
many girls there. I even got a heads up from
Bella Tabon that this man whoreres got his eye on
me specifically. Funny thing about being the kind of cursed
I am. I can see in the dark in my
human form. I can also smell things the same way
as if I was the wolf. And let me tell you,

(01:33:15):
I ain't never smelled the kind of testosterone I've smelled
being close to Keenan Dorfman. In fact, Haileen donnerly heard
his nickname is Alpha on account of all the pussy
he gets. Believe me, my fellow cheerleaders, ain't fucking with me.
I know my bitch is well enough to know they're okay.

(01:33:39):
I know I can be a handful to them since
I'm a literal raging bitch, but they know to expect
that from me. But when Felicia Meren, our captain, told
me privately there were rumors going around that Keenan scored
with one of the teachers at Strickfield High, missus Roland,

(01:34:00):
I rolled my eyes and told her I couldn't have
cared less. But when Felicia said she'd heard Keenan say
he was coming for me, that he was going to
marry me, I damn near wolf doubt. For the record,
Felicia knows about me. In fact, all my bitches know

(01:34:23):
about me. Anyway, I knew Felicia wasn't lying. Thankfully she
helped calm me down. Unfortunately, that calmness wouldn't last. I
just finished my shower after cheerleading for a basketball game.

(01:34:44):
I wanted to hang out with Darla since I wasn't
working at Roth's Rings tonight. Also, she was off from
dancing at Sexpectations. As soon as I exit the main
doors of Strickfield High, Keenan Dorfman standing there with his friends,
and oh did he ever see me? In fact, he

(01:35:06):
approaches me, I raise my hand in front of me.
Fuck off, Keenan. His sneer says, it ain't happening. I'm
sure you heard around school that I want you, Danielle.
He points at me. People keep saying you're the hardest
one to get here. Now he's rubbing his hands together.

(01:35:29):
I really hope you are that hard to get. And
he's got a gleam in his eye because not only
will I get you, I think I'm in love. Yeah,
you're the one I'm gonna marry. When he sees me heaving,
he comes right after me. I drop my shit and run.

(01:35:51):
Bella Tabon asked me many times why I even cheerlead.
Of course, she's complimenting me by saying I should be
an athlete in dead. Thinking about it, Bella and Darla
would get along great. They both give me great advice.
Problem is I'm too much of a bitch to take it.

(01:36:13):
Leave me alone, Keenan. I yell, can't do that, hottie,
he calls back. I cry out when I feel that
sudden surge down my back, that motherfucker have got to
get away from him. I reach the fence and quickly
climb over it. I drop just outside the football field.

(01:36:35):
That's when my shoes come apart. When I hear that
bastard climbing the fence, I turn around and slam my
palms against it to knock him off. Then I run
away again. When I'm under the home bleachers, I feel
my clothes coming apart. I'm gonna kill Keenan for this.

(01:36:57):
I groan and growl at the pain I'm My clothes
are tatters on the ground. Now I'm growing, sprouting hair changing.
When it's finished, I tighten my fists and roar with
all I've got. Where are you, my beautiful flower? I

(01:37:19):
hear Keenan singing. Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you, Danielle.
I just want to win your heart, Win my heart,
win my heart. I'll rip yours right out, you son
of a bitch. You brought the wolf out of me tonight.
You wanna play, let's play. When Keenan's still hunting for me,

(01:37:44):
I spring right out of the bleachers and tackle him
on the AstroTurf of the football field. Keenan cries out
when he's flat on his back. I glare right at
him and growl as I hold him down with one
clawed hand. I'm screaming everything I can at him right now.
You'd think I'd learned by now that even though I

(01:38:06):
understand English perfectly in my wolf form, I can never
speak it. Believe me, I tried many times. All that
comes out are growls and roars. Still, I gotta vent
my anger somehow. Right now, I do know for a fact,

(01:38:26):
I can go full she bitch mode on Keenan and
he won't come back like me. I've scratched and bit
victims before. I definitely can't pass my curse in traditional
werewolf fashion. Good thing, right, Otherwise I'd have a whole
fucking pack to deal with. I lift my prey off

(01:38:48):
the field and look right at him. He just gives
me that look saying he can't believe he's seeing a real,
live werewolf. Then I finally toss him away from me
and roar at him again. He quickly gets up and
runs back to the fence where his friends are waiting.

(01:39:11):
When I roar at them, they quickly grab Keenan off
the fence and run for it. I could easily jump
the fence and be on them, but I don't need
to deal with the cops. Besides, I'm no killer. Great,
what do I do now? I'm still pissed off as fuck.

(01:39:38):
The next morning I enter Strickfield High. It took me
nearly all night to finally calm down and change back.
Darla really loved hearing my story. When I returned home
to our apartment at Strickfield Cove in my birthday suit.
When Darla saw me quickly cover up my naked body,

(01:39:58):
she knew if something was wrong. Normally you love walking
around our apartment naked, she teased. When I told her
what had happened, she asked me what I was going
to do. I don't know, I muttered, why me, I'm
not a prize for anybody. When she gave me that

(01:40:21):
look that told me different, I wanted to smack her. Ah.
I could never do that to my best friend in
the whole world. Anyway, I'm just walking in the main
doors when Keenan confronts me again. I'm so happy to
see you, my beautiful flower, he sings, Oh what I

(01:40:43):
know about you now? I gulp. I won't go out
with you. Last I checked, I have every right to
tell you no. Then I see something in his hands.
It's the remains of my t shirt. He brings the
cloth to his nose and sniffs. You see what you

(01:41:07):
do to me, Danielle. I shake my head quickly. What
does this even mean? Now he comes closer to where
only we can hear each other. You are such a
beautiful creature, no matter what you look like. I'm not stupid.
I know what two plus two equals. If you know

(01:41:29):
what I mean? And to make sure he knows I know,
he goes AHOOO. I go to turn away from him,
but he won't let me one date. Fuck you, I
fire back, Hey, watch your mouth, Danielle Boyd. Principal Matthew

(01:41:51):
Van Deste calls out. I want to tell the principal
where to go, but I feel I'm close to where
it might trigger another wolf out if I do one date.
Keenan repeats, he don't like it. You never have to
see me again, promise. I glare at him. Fuck you ooooooo,

(01:42:17):
he utters again. Just say yes, and your secret is
safe with me. Truth is, it would be his word
against mine. He never actually saw me change. Also, what
are a few tatters going to prove? Oh? Believe me,
I'm still pissed off, but okay, Keenan one date. I

(01:42:44):
raise my finger one. He gives me that sneer again.
I only need one, Danielle. Suddenly he snatches me into
his arms. He doesn't try kissing me, though, Instead he
just sniffs me. He lets me go and looks right

(01:43:07):
at me. Hugh smells so wonderful, no wonder I want
you so bad. Then he gets to our date. I'll
pick you up at your apartment at six. Shit. Now
he knows where I live too. I am so screwed.

(01:43:31):
I answered the door after Keenan knocks. I thought about
dressing and drab clothes. Problem is, I don't own any
and I didn't find anything worth a shit in the
good will store, at least nothing that would fit me.
So I'm wearing sexy clothes because I'm just that self centered.

(01:43:55):
Keenan's actually wearing nice clothes too. If anything, he looks
more like a preppy kid. I come out and lock
the door. Then I turn to him. Let's get this
over with, I mutter, suddenly realizing how that could be taken.
I raise my finger our date. I glare into his eyes.

(01:44:19):
He will not be fucking me tonight or ever, he
takes another whiff of me. I don't know if I
can honor one date, Danielle. I mean, you really smell good.
I could smell you every day. Oh but I said

(01:44:42):
one date, and I always keep my promises. So I
leave with him. We go into downtown village and do
some general hanging out. Turns out he's really into bobbleheads,
so we spend some time in boble Topia. He further

(01:45:03):
emphasizes he knows my secret by showing me a nineteen
forty one Wolfman bobblehead. Then he buys it. After we
leave the store, I pull him into a nearby alley
to confront him. Okay, fucker, what's the bet? Huh? Keenan asks,

(01:45:24):
what bet you think? I don't know you're scoring pussy
just to impress your friends at school. I snap, I
know I'm the one bitch nobody scores, period, So what's
the bet? How much are you getting if you get
into my pants? He smirks and shrugs. I don't do

(01:45:45):
this for money. I just like women, that's all. But you,
Danielle Boyd, are definitely a prize worth winning for sure.
Like I said, I want to marry you. I roll
my eyes and laugh, Oh you wanna marry me? I

(01:46:06):
raise my finger. That would be a death sentence. I'd
be the biggest fucking bitch to you every day. You'd
be begging to divorce me, especially when you'd see all
my therapy bills. And then there's the bastard actually has
the balls to come in and kiss me. Since we're

(01:46:29):
still just inside this alley, I should be wolfing out
and thumping him around for kissing me. But no, I'm
just letting him. His hands are on my sides, but
he's not actually pinning me to the wall. However, I
do smell his testosterone again and know he definitely wants

(01:46:50):
to screw me. That's when I quickly put the brakes
on and get him off me. I told you you're
not getting lucky. I remind him he doesn't get hostile.
Like I said, Danielle, you have no idea what you
do to me. I definitely want you. He raises his finger.

(01:47:12):
I will win you, fair and square. I will marry you.
I give him a bitchy smirk. Sorry, Keenan, but this
dates over. That means I'm officially saying no, I'm not
interested in having a boyfriend or lover. Like I said,

(01:47:32):
you'd regret it later in life if you did marry me.
He shakes his head quickly. I won't give up on you.
I can't. Now. Before we can argue further, this car
suddenly screeches to a halt. Then this man gets out.
He has a baseball bat in his hand and points

(01:47:54):
right at Keenan. You son of a bitch, he growls.
I know, oh, you were the one having an affair
with my wife. Now I know who the man is here,
Jake Roland. Missus Roland is one of our teachers at
Strickfield High. When he sees me, he roars with anger.

(01:48:16):
You just couldn't stop with my wife, you bastard. What
tainting my wife wasn't good enough for you. Keenan's keeping
his confidence but putting his hands up in front of him.
Your wife's hot, But I swear I never touched her.
I learned to listen to a person's heartbeat since gaining

(01:48:36):
my curse. Keenan's a little scared right now. Thanks to
Bella Tabon working with me, I can tell he's telling
the truth. He never did sleep with Missus Roland. I
step up in front of Keenan. You don't know for sure,
mister Roland. Don't do something you're gonna be sorry for later.

(01:48:57):
He ain't listening. Oh, I know my wife's been sleeping
with students at Strickfield High. He points at Keenan. And
you got a reputation, kid, Hugh slept with a few teachers.
That's what got you kicked out of Strickfield Academy. I
got news for you, rumors. Don't just stay in school.

(01:49:18):
And now I'm gonna make sure you never take what's
not yours ever again. I didn't sleep with your wife.
Keenan protests louder and with more fear. Now I know
for sure he's telling the truth. I'm still in front
of Keenan. Just back off out of my way, you slut.

(01:49:40):
Mister Roland yells and shoves me aside. When I try
to stop that idiot from cracking Keenan with the bat,
I end up catching the blow myself. The force sends
me back into the alley. I feel the sudden shock
going down my back and no, I'm gonna turn she bitch.

(01:50:00):
I'm so fucking pissed right now. When the change finishes,
I spring out of the alley and snatch the bat
away from mister Roland. He gawks when I splinter it.
Then I grab him and roar in his face. It's
then when the cops arrive. When those pigs start pointing

(01:50:21):
their pea shooters my way, I shove mister Roland right
to them. When they see I'm not attacking them, they
don't fire at me. When I turn and run off,
Keenan's calling after me. Oh, he's gonna catch hell from
me once I'm calm again. Sure enough, Keenan finds me

(01:50:47):
at school the next morning. He tells me everything's all good.
He's not pressing charges on mister Roland. He also told
me missus Roland got placed on leave pending the out
of a much needed investigation. I get Keenan to come
to an empty classroom with me. After I shut the door,

(01:51:09):
I tell him what I want to say. You and
me are not happening. Go ahead and tell people about
me and have fun trying to prove it. Suddenly, Keenan's
on me again. He's got the balls to kiss me,
and again I let him. I really don't need this shit.

(01:51:32):
When we finish the kiss, he promises me again he
will have me. Besides, we never got to finish our date,
he says, caressing my cheek. I ease him away from me,
and we're not gonna again. I am way too much baggage. Also,

(01:51:58):
I won't be one of your kind quests. Keenan shows
again that he's got balls by kissing me. When this
kiss finished, I agree to one more full date, just
to be fair. As for how the second date turns
out and what happens during that date, well that's going

(01:52:22):
to be a story for another time, and that's our
how worthy lineup for tonight's full moon fears. Whether it's werewolves,
wicked squirrels, or shape shifting chaos. Remember when the moon
is full, it's best to stay indoors and make sure

(01:52:46):
you're subscribed to Weekly Spooky on your favorite podcasting app
because there's something new and scary every single Wednesday for
six years and beyond until next time My spookies. Stay creepy,
and maybe don't feed the squirrels

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