The Werewolf
In the year of 1952, it was wintertime. The wind blew hard one morning, the leaves tapped on the windows of houses, and the fresh new snow was fluffy and light. The moans from the old trees were slightly frightening, but nobody noticed it, for it was still dark and early. On one of the trees was an old wooden swing that swung back and forth many times against the wind. A street sign that read "Mulberry Road" dropped from its pole to the ground. The London air smelled of sweet perfume and the heavy fog settled in the air.
A young boy, about twelve years old, woke up that morning and he felt as if he were in a trance. He never felt that way before and he sensed a strong force around him. He noticed that he woke up much earlier than he usually did, which was strange for him. He put on his clothes, a plain white T-shirt and his baggy ripped jeans.
He walked downstairs to eat his breakfast, and then he sneaked out of the house thirty minutes before the gates opened for school. He decided to take the long way and go through the "endless" ally, but he didn't know what in store for him. He walked past the city's junkyard and peeked through the wire fence. Something inside the junkyard caught his eye that he had never seen before, and he climbed over the shaky silver gate, leaving his backpack behind.
He looked all around; making sure that the guard dog wasn't around. He saw it far away penned up in its doghouse, sleeping. The boy's stomach started to hurt and his whole body tingled. The pain inside him lurched him forward; something was making him be in the junkyard. He wanted to turn back and go to school, but he couldn't. Something moved in the distance. The boy started to run, ruining his shoes through the broken glass and smelly garbage. He felt hot breath on his back and panting of an animal; it was gaining on him. He tripped over a rock stuck in the ground and fell to the ground scraping his arms and legs. The pain was gone.
There was no sign of the animal, so the boy stood up and stood up, shaking bits of wet paper and mud off of him. Odd. The boy thought. I must have been imagining things. The boy was frightened and still gasping for air after his run. But, he was still curious and continued to look for the spot. He saw beer bottles, rotting food, paper, and some old rusty barbed wire. Finally, after a few minutes, he saw what he was looking for. A tunnel. That's strange. I've never seen anything like this.
The boy's curiosity grew as he crept inside the mysterious tunnel. A small door at the end of the tunnel was visible, even though so many rats, spiders, and cobwebs were in the way. As the boy touched the brass knob, he half-hoped that the door was locked, but the door opened, on its own. He leaped back just in time as some huge bats flew out the door; and then, he cautiously walked inside. All there was in the fascinating room was a bed, a mirror, and a bookshelf. Many cobwebs littered everything, except the bed.
As he felt the bed, he noticed that it was warm, just recently sat on. Fearing that someone lived in the room, the boy headed back towards the door. But, the door was closed, and locked, from the outside. Desperation, the boy tried to open the door by pulling and kicking it, but not even the slightest budge gave way. A horrifying low sound, like a growl came from under the bed. The boy didn't want to, but he looked behind him and screamed. A huge wolf leaped onto the boy and pinned him down on the wooden floor, the weight suffocating him.
It can't be…But just as the boy was about to yell for help, he felt a tug at his legs. Gurgled cries escaped form the boy's mouth. The pain was such agony, and the boy fell limp, almost unconscious, his legs bloody and in an awkward angle. The wolf bit the boy again; this time his arm, and blood spilled all over like a small creek. The boy lay on the floor, his white shirt drenched in sweat, blood, and his jeans were ripped like tiger's stripes. Blood covered the floor.
The wolf let go of the boy and looked angrily at his face. The boy's eyes were wide open in shock and fear. The wolf howled loudly, her jaws open wide. Her paw in the air, she slashed his face, the boy blinded boy his own blood. The boy screamed and twitched uncontrollably, his fingers moved as if he were trying to reach for something and his legs kicked all around. He head crashed up and down on the floor and his eyes opened and closed; only showing the whites of his eyes.
The wolf's work was done. She was panting for air, and she was angry that he trespassed on the Blackblood territory. As the wolf looked at the bloodstained floor she was enraged to find that his blood did not turn black. Pure red blood meant that he could not become a Blackblood. Then her heart sank when she recognized the boy.
She was the boy that kept on coming in her dreams. He was part of the prophecy that Dawnpack, her spirit ancestors gave her. He would save everyone from the curse of the Blackbloods; it was his destiny. After all, the prophecy had to occur. She recited the prophecy in her head.
"Shadow's son Thunder's heir Mountain of Ages River's Daughter All shall witness brutal slaughter Along with help from friend and foe Daughter of River's eternal, flawless grace Mountain's unrelenting pace Son of Shadow's strength And heir of Thunder's cry Shall bring the time of Change right."
Bloodwing studied the boy. The boy would have been her chance to help the tribe. She knew by instinct that the boy was special. It didn't matter if he became a Blackblood, he would become a slave, unless the witch of the Blackbloods forbade it. She regretted hurting the only one that could save her and her tribe, the last hope to the Tribe of Roaring River. Her thoughts ended when she heard footsteps coming into the room.
"Come Bloodwing. Go to your cave. Tell the others that we will have another to join us." A woman called. The wolf, Bloodwing, crept away, blood on her muzzle and fangs. She took one last glance at the boy she almost killed. "Bloodwing, go!" The woman yelled.
Bloodwing felt the whip crash onto her head. She yelped like a pup and ran away, her tail low. Luckily, my tribe will never know what I have done. They would kill me for sure. Why did I agree with Crystal to become rivals? The wolf lay on her moss bed and fell asleep, still wondering, not yet prepared to tell the news to her tribe mates.
When the woman made sure that Bloodwing was gone, she walked over to the boy. She knelt by his side and whispered some words, somewhat welsh, and the boy's legs were healed, not a single bruise showed. His face was still scratched, but it was slowly healing. The boy's eyes were moving around rabidly, but he couldn't see or hear anything.
She picked him up gently, and carried him to the bed. Once she set him there, she left the room in a hurry. The woman watched from inside the mirror window and waited patiently to see the transformation. The woman knew what was going to happen after a werewolf bit a mortal human. The boy's fingers grew small and stubby and his nails turned into sharp, pointy claws, and his hair shrank but spread all over his body. His ears rose up and expanded like a dog's. His nose became wide, long, and fuzzy. Then, the boy woke up after his transformation.
He had a feeling of killing anything in his way. What's happening to me? The boy wondered, not knowing that he was different. He looked around the room thinking where am I? Why am I here? Then he started to remember that he went inside the tunnel and his attacker. I need to get out of here before that thing comes back! As he turned around to leave, he felt as if someone were watching him.
He looked behind him and noticed that nobody was there. So, he continued. "Stop!" Boomed a voice. The sounded painful, and a tinge of sorrow and regret. The boy swirled around, scared stiff. But nobody was there.
"Who are you? Who's there?" The boy barked. No one answered. Suddenly, the boy felt warm. But it was winter, and he only wore his shirt and jeans. He looked down at himself and gasped in amazement. Is this just me, or did I somehow get furry legs. Wait…Could I be…" He ran to the mirror and yelped. He was, truly, a werewolf! Shock overwhelmed him and he didn't notice a woman walk in until she was right next to him.
"Do you remember me?" The woman asked. The boy looked at the woman. She had long raven black hair and bright warm brown eyes. She looked familiar, yet so alien. Finally, he got it.
"Mother!" He yipped with glee. He barely remembered her, the last time he saw her he was only three years old. But then he asked, "Mother, why did you leave me?" He noticed shame and sadness on his mother's face, and her eyes held ambition.
"Son, never mind that. Look at me. I want to see you." The boy trusted his mother, he knew that she would stay with him and never leave him. He decided that he would obey her no matter what happened to them. He looked at her. He felt loyal and certain that she would take care of him until he was old enough to leave. Then, a foggy black smoke covered his eyes. It burned in his throat painfully, and that was the last he ever saw.