The Wolf's Howl
My names Dan and I'm here to tell you a story, a true story. This is my firsthand account of the brutal killings that took place in New Town, ND. My story starts with my neighbor's son Billy Harold. He had just turned twelve and his parents had decided that he was old enough to stay out after dark. He had just left the ice cream parlor down town, deciding he should head home since it was getting kind of late. Now he lived down the road past the old haggard farm that was built on the site where the wolf had supposedly died and that night just happened to be the ten year anniversary of its death. Well when Billy got down there and was walking past, he heard a howl. He didn't think anything of it since there were stray dogs around and you sometimes heard them howl after dark. He took a few more steps and heard it again, from right behind him. Once he heard it he took off running towards home, went through the front door and then locked it behind him.
Now I lived next door to their house and I was awoken from my sleep by screaming coming from next door. I through on my clothes and ran next door to see what the commotion was to find Billy's mom in the kitchen calling for an ambulance. I asked her what happened but she just asked me to leave. I waited out front my house and watched as the ambulance arrived, the EMT's walked into the house, and brought a gurney out. It had a body on it covered with a sheet that had blood stains on it. As they were loading the body on the ambulance the wind picked up and blew the sheet up just enough for me to see Billy's dead body on it. After they left I hopped into my car and went down to the firehouse to see if I could find out what happened to him. I waited for the ambulance to come back to the station then went over and asked the EMT's what had happened to Billy. They told me that his mom had found him lying in bed with his chest ripped open and his heart pulled out and the weird part was that it looked like an animal had done it, chewing its way through the skin and bone and pulling the heart out. They also went on to tell me that last night his mom never heard a sound from his room, but that he had mentioned he heard a howl on his way home that had frightened him.
After I was done talking to them I headed back to my car trying not to throw up from the image of an animal doing that to a person. Instead of heading home I decided to go to the bar for a drink. If only I had known the next attack was going to happen that night right across the street from where I was.
As night started setting in I was still at the bar. I had managed not to get to drunk through the day, but as it got dark out my mind was reminded of Billy and I decided I might as well get hammered. Now while I was drinking at the bar, across the street at the old pharmacy Mr. Draker was closing up. He had had a successful day and was whistling a happy tune as he locked the door and headed to his car, but he wouldn't get into his car nor would he drive home like he usually did. As he was getting his keys out to unlock the car he was attacked.
I had one last drink and asked the bartender to call me a cab, then went out front to wait for it to come and have a smoke. As I waited I glanced up across the street and noticed someone lying their next to Mr. Draker's car so I rushed over to see if they needed help. When I got over there what I found made me vomit. It was Mr. Draker, but the only way I knew it was him was by the scar on his cheek he had always had since he was twelve. After I found him I rushed back to the bar and screamed at the bartender to call the police.
After they had taken the body to the morgue I asked one of the cops if they knew what might have happened. All they could tell me was that it looked to be some kind of an animal attack and whatever it was had ripped his heart out. With those very words I started shaking. That's the second time in two days something like that had happened. I decided to go do some research on it so I had one of the cop's drive me home and then I hopped onto my laptop.
Out of all the searches I did one link kept standing out, it was for a local legend that I had heard when I was younger, but had long since forgotten. It was titled the wolf's howl and it was about this hunter named Greg that was out hunting a wolf that killed some of his animals he raised. He tracked down the animal, shot it and thinking he killed it headed home, but what he didn't realize was that the poor animal was still alive. It ended up dying where he left it, bleeding out slowly over four days. Now it is said that the wolfs spirit stayed behind in those woods, after it passed, wanting revenge and on the anniversary of its death it comes back seeking that revenge for the four days it spent dying. Now it all made sense. I remembered my parents telling me the legend and telling me to stay away from the haggard farm or it would get me, but I never thought much about it until now. Regardless I had to do something to stop it. I went to bed late that night and the next morning I continued researching as much as I could.
That afternoon old John Grey, a well-known hobo in the town, was looking for a place to set up his tent and sleep for the night. He was questioningly looking at the woods behind the haggard farm and decided that would be suitable. He walked in and found a spot that you couldn't see from the road and set up his tent. He then went and got some wood for a fire and after it was lit poured himself some liquor and took some food out to cook. As he was cooking his food he heard a loud howl coming from behind a bush a few feet to his right. Cautiously he got up and looked behind it, but found nothing there. He turned around to go back to the fire, but froze suddenly at what was in front of him. The wolf was standing there, staring at him and growling. Before he could react it jumped up and attacked him, shredding his insides and ripping his heart out.
Early the next morning two kids were exploring the woods when they found him. As Mr. Draker before, John was barely recognizable though there was no mistaking it was him since everyone knew the clothes he wore and what his tent looked like. I managed to get their after most of the people left, which was good since I doubted my mind could take much more. I asked what they thought had happened, knowing what the response was going to be, and sure enough they were deeming it an animal attack and the heart was missing. "The killings seemed to be intensifying each night." I thought to myself as the cops pulled away. That's when I heard it, the howl from right behind me. Out of fear I started running and once I got half way home from there I stopped. I thought to myself "oh god. I heard it. I'm next."
I rushed home the rest of the way. If I was going to die I wasn't going down without a fight. All I could find on the subject of killing ghosts was that supposedly if you mix salt and gas in a bottle, light it, and hit the ghost with it they will burst into flames and die. Since I had no other options I decided to try it. That night I was going to be ready when that thing came.
As night started falling I heard howling in the distance and it was getting closer every time I heard it. There was no question that it was the wolf coming to take me. I pulled my lighter out and got ready to light it. All of a sudden I heard growling behind me. I turned just in time to see the wolf jump up and knock me over. After it knocked me over it hoped up and got ready to pounce me again. I quickly lite the bottle and threw it, hitting my mark. The wolf burst into flames and howled in pain as he faded into thin air. I had done it, it was over, or so I thought. Right after it faded out of the flames jumped the wolf, mangled and singed now. He took me down and starting ripping my body apart. Pulling out my intestines and organs and gnawing through flesh until it got to my heart. Once it got to that point I was started to fade, the last thing I saw was the wolf plunging its head down as it grabbed my heart and in one pull ripping it out if my chest.
