Chapter 13 - The Final Chapter
"What happened?" they asked in unison. Now that they could communicate with the werewolf, they felt less unnerved by it.
"I was on a walk out in the forest that day. The ambience was calming, so I payed almost no attention to my surroundings. Then, out of the brush, came a growl. I figured it was simply a dog, so I kept on my way."
The werewolf's story interested Stan and Sandy, so they continued to listen.
"The creature in the bushes lept toward me, and pushed me to the ground. It pinned me in place and I had nowhere to go. It sliced open my arm, and it took some of the blood from a wound on its own body and smeared it in and around my newly formed cut. It took me until this point to realize that this strange being was some form of wolf-creature, and it looked like it was dying. The wound looked as if it were some sort of bullet hole, and it went right through its chest."
Sandy spoke up. "So you were attacked by another werewolf-"
"I was not a werewolf at the time . . . yet. Since lycanthropy is spread through blood-to-blood contact, it must have been passing its trait to me. Seconds afterward, it fell to the ground and died. The werewolf slowly changed back into its original hamster form as I watched on curiously."
The two looked confused.
"That very night, I started feeling sick and disorientated. I didn't know what was going on, so I went over to one of my friend's houses to talk to her about it. She said I was just getting some type of the flu and that I should lay down, so I did. Night fell, and I absolutely couldn't sleep. The pain was getting worse."
"How bad was it?" Stan asked it.
"Like the devil himself was tearing up my insides. I stumbled into her bathroom to see if she had anything to relieve the pain, but before I found anything, I passed out. The next morning, I woke up in the woods by her house. I had blood all over my hands and face, and had no idea where it came from. I went back into my friend's place to check on her."
The siblings looked intrigued, so the werewolf continued to talk.
"I found her in her bedroom. She was completely ripped apart; many of the pieces were scattered around the bed, and some were around elsewhere in the room. The sight sickened me, and the only thing I could really recognize was her hat, but even that was torn to shreds. I looked back down at my bloody paws, and discovered that the blood on them matched the scent of the blood in the room. I had to have killed her that night, but I kept denying it. I would never murder such a dear friend. I checked out the room some more, and found claw marks all over the place and bloody pawprints all over the floor."
"That is like what happened here tonight . . . sort of," Stan mentioned.
"I had transformed into the werewolf that night. I could transform into the werewolf shape whenever I felt like doing so. Recently, hamsters would wake to find someone they cared for ripped to shreds in their own home. Or cage, for that matter. No one knows what has been going on. But I know. Even so, it took me much time to finally control the power I had obtained."
Stan and Sandy still looked frightened in the eyes of the werewolf. Stan looked up at it and asked, "So, if you could control the power, then why did you try to kill us all?"
"The wolf's instincts still overpowered me. I was conscious of what I was doing, but I still did it. Just lately, I had lost my ability to transform whenever I wanted to. I was to remain as the beast forever. I was a bloodthirsty monster. When Cappy walked right in front of me in the woods, I lost control of myself and pounced. After I had killed him, I ate his corpse, and the flesh was so good I had to have more."
The two grimaced at his last statement.
"I knew that the rest of you would be in the clubhouse, so I snuck inside. Unluckily for you, it lead to one of the rooms. I saw Panda walk by, but I saved my chance to go after him for another time. Later, another group of ham-hams walked by, but this time I could not resist myself. I took out the one with the tie."
"Dexter . . ."
"Yes. I tried to kill you," it said, pointing to Sandy, "The book was a decent use of defense. I hope you know that hurt like hell. Then after the book incident, things started to heat up. Penelope was fun to kill, along with Pashmina. By then I had eaten my fill of meat for the night, so I stalked just to kill. Howdy's death was amusing, and then I got Snoozer. He was easy. Panda fell right into my little trap before I slaughtered him, and Bijou was stupid enough to leave the protection of her fellow hams-"
"How could you do such a thing to us?" they asked.
"You don't understand the feeling of taking the life of another living soul. Oxnard died trying to save his best friend, who ended up getting killed by me anyway. You, Stan, saved your sister again from sure death, and that was brave of you indeed. I should have swallowed you when you fell, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight so I batted you aside. Then came Hamtaro. Oh, the hero. Everyone's hero. I was so satisfied with myself after I killed that little son of a-"
"But Hamtaro was nice. He would never do what you have done, not even if he was a werewolf." They noticed the werewolf was getting a bit more frustrated as they continued the conversation.
"I don't give a dang. I hate the heroes; they're always saving people. They have no one to turn to when they're in trouble themselves, so they are fun to take out. Oh yes, and then you smart alecks decided to go get that needle to kill me, but it didn't work, did it? Because here I am now, talking to the two survivors of my killing spree."
It was all coming clear to the two now. The only thing they didn't get was how it knew their names. Sandy decided to ask it. "If we know your name, then who are you?"
The werewolf smiled, because he had been awaiting this question. "Who am I? Why, I am the hamster you fools would often turn to for advice. Advice in your times of need. And keep in mind that Snoozer is dead."
Stan pondered it for a moment. One person came to mind, but he couldn't picture that certain hamster doing such a thing.
"Can't figure it out? I ran off topic when you tried to talk to me. I'd take my occasional nap, too."
"No . . . it can't be. Are . . . are you . . . Elder Ham?" Stan asked.
The werewolf let out a deep laugh. "Ha, ha! I figured you'd get it sooner or later."
The news was inconceivable. The two's minds would not accept this information. "No . . . you're lying to us. Who are you really?" The werewolf's voice sounded nothing like Elder Ham's. "I thought we were your friends-"
"I have spoken the truth. I hid my lycanthropy from you ham-hams for the last couple months by acting as normal as possible. It is surprising how much you can hide feelings of hate and detest from a bunch of gullible hamsters."
They couldn't believe it. All this time they thought he was their friend, and he turned around and massacred them. "Why did you do this to us?"
"It was all the feeling, my 'friend'. When I was in this form, I felt so . . . young. It was fantastic. Being able to run faster than an athlete, the immense strength I had bottled under my thick gray coat, it was great."
One other question still lingered in the sibling's minds. Stan was brave enough to ask. "About your friend that you found dead in her house . . . what was her name?"
Elder Ham smiled. "Her name? She was a dear friend of mine. I'd visit every once in a while, and you've met her, too. Have you ever wondered why you haven't seen Aunti Viv in a while?"
No - not Aunti Viv. Elder Ham had taken her with his deadly spree, also.
"She was the only one I regretted killing. No one knows what happened to her that night - until now, that is. But not for long, because as soon as I kill you two, the secret will be lost once again."
Stan and Sandy gasped loudly then turned and ran, but not before Stan grabbed the bloody needle from the floor and carried it with him. Elder Ham went right after them. "You can't run from me!"
They darted down the hall as fast as they could, and Elder Ham smashed through the doorway after them. They reached the staircase, but Stan didn't stop fast enough and tripped, taking out Sandy with him. They tumbled down the stairs all the way to the bottom, hitting the ground with a loud thud. They got up and sprinted toward the empty bedrooms in the downstairs hallway.
Elder Ham lost sight of them. His silver eyes scanned the room, and he tried to sniff them out. He found it and followed it down the hallway. The siblings tried to be as quiet as possible, but they knew it wasn't working because their heavy breathing was clearly audible. They could hear the heavy footfalls of the monster now, as it got closer and closer to them.
"When I find you two, I'm going to rip out your intestines and wear them around my neck! Then I'll use your skins as some great fur attire for myself!"
They could not believe one of their trusted friends was saying this to them. They envisioned his death threats inside their heads, and then tried to erase their memory of the awful pictures that they were conjuring up.
The footsteps stopped outside the door, then Elder Ham roared and ripped open the door. Stan and Sandy cowered in the corner.
"There's no escaping now, hams! Say your prayers!"
Just when all hope seemed to be lost, Stan remembered that he had brought down the silver needle with him. He picked it back up and recalled the werewolf's words:
" . . . I have to be stabbed through the heart to die . . ."
Elder Ham crept back onto his haunches, preparing to strike. Stan held the needle behind his backs. His eyebrows were furrowed and his teeth clenched. The werewolf took one final leap forward for the kill . . .
"Arrrroooaaaahhhh!" Elder Ham howled and widened his eyes as a sharp object was forced through his chest. Stan was holding the needle in front of him, the top part unseen because it was lodged into the werewolf. Elder Ham just stood there, trying hard to suck in breaths of air. At last, he fell to the ground.
Stan pulled the needle free from his chest. Elder Ham was on the floor, inches from death. He said one last thing to Stan.
"You have impressed me, one with tiger stripes. Now that I am left on the floor dying, I would like to do one thing . . ."
He took his claws and swiped them across Stan's arm, leaving a deep gash. Elder Ham then put his paw on his stab wound, wiping up blood from it. He laid his bloody paw on Stan's cut, and rubbed it around.
"I just thought I'd pass on the favor . . ."
With his last statement, Elder Ham fell limp. He was dead for good.
Stan looked down at his cut. "Sandy . . . I'm a werewolf . . ."
Her eyes got teary. "Oh no - this isn't good. Unless you can control it . . . "
" . . . there's nothing I can do. I won't be able to go home again. Not while I'm a werewolf. What would Noel do?"
"Stan . . . does that mean I can't see you, either?"
"It would be a risk. If I can't control the wolf's instincts, I might hurt you without thinking. It wouldn't be safe."
"Why did Elder Ham have to do that to you? Why couldn't he have just died?" Sandy cried.
Stan started to say something, but didn't finish. "I . . . agh!"
"What is it?"
" . . . nothing. Forget it." Stan said, his hand on the claw marks that Elder Ham had given him before he died.
Sandy stared at him for a while. He looked like he was in pain, but she figured it was just from his wound. She turned to hug him goodbye, but shrieked and backed off as he growled in return. "Stan - are you okay?"
"I think the transformation is already starting, sis. I need to leave before you get hurt!" he said to her.
"No, Stan! Don't leave me here alone! Please-"
"It's too late! I need to go before I completely change-"
He ran through the doorway, and Sandy tried to follow but was stopped by the door. She slumped against the wall, and began crying for her brother to come back. "Stan . . . don't go! Why did you leave me alone!"
Stan ran to the clubhouse's exit. As he traveled down the tunnel leading outside, his nose started to hurt badly. He covered it with his paws to see if he was bleeding, but when he took them off, there wasn't any blood. Instead, his nose had turned black and rough. He looked down at his paws again, only to realize they had grown considerably and had razor sharp claws on them. Stan then closed his eyes, hoping to open them and everything would be normal. When he had opened them again, they were that of a werewolf. His new silver eyes allowed him to see clearly in the dark tunnel, and he continued to run.
His fur was steadily growing gay and shaggy. His arms and legs got longer, his ears turned pointy, and his front teeth had grown into menacingly sharp fangs. Before he knew it, he was on all fours, bounding out of the clubhouse door into the forest to someday pass on the favor to another hamster.
THE END
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