Wandering with Werewolves
Chapter 1
The Spooks Marsh was usually deserted. Very few people dared venture in there. There were tales… Tales that told of people killed by unseen forces.
At that time, I was still a university student, fresh out of college. One of my projects in that year was to go a village isolated on the other side of the Red Mountain. That village was called "Middlesville". It just so happened that the village that I was assigned to go to, was the very same village as the one beside Spooks Marsh.
At first my Professors did not realise that. When they did, they tried everything within their power to try to stop me from going.
But me, being the brave fellow that I am, ignored their pleadings and insisted that everything was only a superstition.
So I packed my bag with all my necessities (e.g. my hairnet, facial cream, curlers etc. (hey! One has to keep handsome you know) and of course my paper and quill).
On the day of my departure, when
my Professors came to send me off, I reassured the Professors, between their tears of fright, that I would return safely in one piece, with my assignment.I could see that they were still very frightened for my safety, but as the train was already starting to move, I hugged every one of them reassuringly and left.
On the train, I entered the first carriage I saw. Except for an old man sitting there, the carriage was empty.
He looked up when I entered. His face was old and wizened nothing at all like my handsome features.
He spoke in a quavering voice, "Not many people go to the Red Mountains nowadays."
I kept silent. Obviously I wasn't shy, but I didn't feel that the man was right to talk to me without my permission.
"They're all scared of the werewolf," he continued. "The werewolf creeps out at night once every month and terrorizes the village.
"Most of the villagers have moved out, but a few of the older ones are so attached to their houses that they can't bear to leave."
My curiosity got the better of me. I opened my mouth and asked, "Then why are you going there?"
He smiled and answered, "My son's there."
"Your son didn't move away?"
"No," the old man replied. "He loved the place too much. He loves Nature and doesn't want to live in the city."
The man smiled and stared blankly into space, as though reliving fond memories. Suddenly, his head drooped forward and he started snoring.
I stared at him in disgust. He obviously didn't have the amount of energy as my young self.
I placed my bag on the rack and left the carriage. I headed up the corridor in search of a beauty salon. Most trains should have one, if they were high-class.
Thank goodness, this train did indeed have one. As I lowered myself into a chair, the woman who ran the shop approached and draped a cloth over me.
"Make my hair slightly curlier and trim it a little at the sides, please." I asked in a polite tone.
She smiled and excused herself to fetch her materials, no doubt charmed by me.
When she returned barely two minutes later, she had with her a pair of scissors and several curlers.
She combed out my hair with a sharp-toothed comb, but I kindly advised her to use a brush in the future as it would be easier on the scalp. She said nothing, but her heart was no doubt very grateful at having me give her beauty advice.
Oh, and while we are on this topic, I would like to tell my readers to use 'Scotts Facial Cream' to have skin like mine.
Anyway, back to the story. As I was saying, the woman seemed very pleased. She picked up a brush and pulled it through my wavy blond hair. She started to trim it at the bottom.
Once again, I was shocked at her low intelligence. I called out to her, trying not to sound impatient.
"Woman, you're taking too big snips. When you trim hair, please take only about three millimeters off at most with one snip." I said.
She replied in a strained voice, "Anything to please our customers."
Poor woman. She had been working so hard all day that even her voice was strained.
Being the kind soul that I was, I told her that she could forget about curling my hair and take a rest instead.
She sighed in relief and muttered, "After him I definitely need a rest."
See? She was so exhausted that she actually didn't know what she was saying.
After she was finished with my hair, I got up and thanked her, before leaving for my carriage.
There, I leaned back on the cushioned seat and slept for the rest of the journey, careful not to muss up my wonderful hair.
P.S. In my book, I will explain and describe more on the methods of keeping your body as fine-tuned as mine.