Howls

A young girl finds out just how real the curse of the wolf can be.

 

The howls could be heard from miles away. It was like no sound anyone in the village had heard before. Little Becky Redwood looked out her bedroom window in awe. Just imagining what could be out there gave her the chills, and she loved it.

Her mother walked in and frowned, “Becky get back in bed, it’s late.”

Becky turned from the window and pouted, “But mama I’m looking for the werewolf.”

A sympathetic smile crept onto her mother’s face and she took Becky in her arms, lifting her over to her bed, “Oh Becky, that’s only a story, werewolves don’t exist.”

“But mama I heard it.”

“Those were just coyotes dear. Now get some sleep.”

She was about to leave when her daughter's voice stopped her, “Can you read me the story again mama? Just one more time?”

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the tiny book from Becky's hands, “Fine, but after this you go to bed.

In a village not far from home
The beast, wild and hungry roams
To smell your fear a long black nose
And sharp red teeth that cut through bone

You'll never find him in daylight
He hides were none get thought
But wander off after dark
And the werewolf will find you

If you survive beware the bite
If the beast is dead stay out of sight
The curse in now passed on to you
If you are found they'll run you through

It's happened once
It's happened twice
Don't believe?
That's quite alright
But never ignore
The howls at night

There,” Her mother closed the book and set it back on the nightstand, pulling the covers up over Becky. “Now go to sleep.”

*           *           *

“Be careful out there Becky!” Her mother called from the doorway of their small house near the woods. The doors and windows painted a dull, splintering red, and the rest of the house a cool, dark brown. Weeds sprung from the ground around the front steps, swaying in the breeze against my mother’s ankles.

“I’ll be fine mama don’t be so paranoid.” Becky stopped on the path and called back.

“Here,” Her mother pulled a large red cloak from behind the door and chucked it at Becky, watching it fly in the wind, “In case you get cold. Your grandmother will be so happy to see you wearing it.”

Becky put on the cloak and nodded solemnly, flipping the hood up over her head, “Are you sure you can’t come with me?”

Her mother shook her head, “I’m far too weak now to make such a long trip.”

Becky nodded understandingly, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Her mother smirked, “Why? Are you afraid the werewolf will eat you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Becky said with rolling eyes, “That’s an old wives’ tale. There’s no such thing as werewolves.” She turned and walked off, basket resting in the crook of her arm.

The path she was on led her into the heart of the forest. She had taken this path many times but never this late into the evening. The sky was already starting to glow red with the sunset. The air cut into her arms and she pulled the cloak tighter around her, suppressing a shiver. She thought back to the nights when she was a young child, having her mother tell her stories of werewolves in the forest. 

She shook her head in defiance, “Don't be ridiculous. Werewolves don't exists. It's just a fairytale, nothing to get worked up over.” Bushes rustled beside her and she jumped, cursing when she saw it was only a rabbit hopping by. “I'm acting like a child.” Scolding herself, she continued walking and saw the tree that she had chosen as the halfway mark. She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried her pace, wanting nothing more than to be out in the open instead of in the shadows of the never ending trees. She heard howls in the distance and stopped, looking in all directions. “Just coyotes, that's all they are.”

The sun had set completely now, only the light of the newly risen moon left to guild her. Another rustle in the bushes caught her attention, but she forced herself to ignore it. “It's nothing, just a rabbit.” But then she heard the rustle again. And then again. She turned to see what was following her and fell back, screaming.

There, towering over her, was a giant black wolf.

It growled and snapped its fangs at her, getting ready to pounce. She scrambled back, kicking twigs and leaves at it as she went as if that would scare it off. As she retreated it lashed out, and she reached up her arm to defend herself. The monster's giant claws left deep crimson gashes along her forearm and began to lap up the blood greedily, holding the arm down with it's enormous paws. She reached for her basket and flung it at his head. It held enough weight and force to knock him over, but he quickly recovered and snapped back at her. His jaws closed around her calf and locked, biting hard. A cry of pain escaped Becky’s lips. She kicked with her free leg, swung loose branches at his head, and scratched at his eyes until her nails ripped and her hands were bloody, but nothing she did made him release. Her eyelids were growing heavy, her extremities too numb to feel. She wanted nothing but to sleep, wake up in her bed and realize it had all been a dream.

But it wasn't a dream. Not hardly. It hurt too badly to be a dream, or at least it had. She couldn't feel much of anything now. She longed to sleep and so she closed her eyes and let herself drift away.

Reality came crashing back, so suddenly that it ripped the breath from her lungs. A man ran out of the trees, screaming, ax swinging in fury. It connected with the wolf's neck and ran straight through into the cold, dirt ground. Becky's eyes shot open and she tried to scream but found she no longer had the strength. All she could do was lie there as the man, she presumed he was a lumberman by his rugged look and ax, dug each of the teeth from her leg and tossed the head aside. "You’re alright girl, rest now.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she slipped away.

When she awoke she was in her grandmother’s house. The brightly coloured quilts hung on the walls and over the backs of the tacky green upholstery chesterfields she laid on. Her grandmother walked through the door holding a cup of tea in her brittle hands. “Oh thank goodness you’re awake. I was so worried about you.” She handed Becky the tea and sat beside her granddaughter. “You’re lucky that handsome young man heard you screaming. He sent for a doctor, who came and patched up your leg.”

Becky looked down and examined her leg, roughly bandaged with blood seeping through the cloth. She briefly remembered the attack.
            The giant wolf.
            The lumberjack.
             The pain.

Closing her eyes she shook her head clear of the memory and sipped at her tea. “H-how long was I asleep? And the lumberjack…where did he go? Did he leave?”

Her grandmother patted her arm to reassure her, “Yes dear he left. You’ve been asleep all day. The sun’s about to go down.”

Becky looked around frantically, hair whipping around, until she found a window. Outside, the sky was already a deep shade of purple, the month’s full moon illuminating the fast approaching night. As her eyes fell upon the moon, Becky suddenly felt sick. She jumped up, pushing her grandmother away, and limped outside as fast as her legs would carry her. She let out a soul ripping scream as her head filled with skull splitting pain. Her legs crumbled beneath her and her body spasmed out of control. Her hands formed into claws, bones splitting and lengthening. Her muscles ripped and her back arched. An inhuman howl escaped her lips, echoing in the distance. And then it all ended.

The beast rose and shook it head, fur flying in all directions. An old lady emerged from a house, horror stricken. Eyes narrowed and fangs barred, the big black wolf prowled toward her.
            No thought.
            No worry.
            Just hunger.

The beast attacked, pouncing on the woman and digging it’s claws into her stomach. Hot red blood covered the ground as bones snapped and organs were ripped out with huge, sharp teeth.

Nothing left but blood and bones, the beast turned away. It’s chops dripped red as it sulked into the forest.

And now it’s happened once again
The girl is lost
Might as well be dead
She did well
Put up a fight
But the howls continue
This very night

 

The End.

Reviews

[Cagan]

Good story, pretty creepy. I caught one grammar error: Becky says ' Werewolves don't exists' to reassure herself, it should be ' Werewolves don't exist.' A few things I'd recommend you work on is pacing and perspective shifts. For example, the transition between Becky as a child and as a (presumably) teenager was awkward for the reader and I found myself wondering why this little girl knew the world 'paranoid.' I would try to make it clearer how much time had passed. Also, the two werewolf scenes were a bit too fast paced for the rest of your story. That being said, I love the little poems within this piece, they really add that fairy tale atmosphere. Great work, and welcome to the site!