Okay, so . . . I found another prompt thing. Hurray! *sarcasm*

"The park stretched out verdantly around me. Which was odd because I had no recollection of how I got there."

In short, it fit the whole werewolf-thing pretty good, so I thought I'd try to use it a little. In a sense; it's more like waking up and not recalling where you are or how you got there, but it might not turn out to be an actual park.

Drabble 10: Moon's Light Madness (Pt. 2)

Sum:
The tune reminded him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on . . . .

Universe:
Mystery Trio
Werewolf Au

(The nameswap is in affect; in other words,
Stanford is Author and Stanley is the Grunkle
we've known for more than half the summer.)

A`N:
Okay, so, *hits palm with fist* this is a
continuation of drabble 8; first off, get that out of the way.
So, there's going to be some heartache and perhaps
a bit of blood and other stuff, besides a moody twin and
an anxious one with his half-annoyed-half-worried colleague.

Ford stared at the wolf, as he had been for the last several minutes. At first, he'd awoken to the sound. It had been . . . almost soothing, until he woke up enough to realize what it was.

Then he'd been terrified, scrambling into a pair of jeans and a black shirt from the day before. He hurried out, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. He decided that his brother had been acting crabby enough and claiming sleep-deprivation the past several days, and would probably appreciate being allowed to sleep some more.

With a lantern in hand, he also grabbed a good, sturdy pocketknife before stealing outside. Silently, he walked around the corner of the house. What he saw made him stop dead, dropping the lantern with a loud clatter.

There, sitting half in and out of the shadows, was a large, dark-furred wolf. It's eyes closed and muzzle uplifted to the sky, it howled and howled without pause or stop. It's ears didn't even twitch when he dropped the lantern.

It's song(it was hard to think of anything but) was lonely and sad, pleading and mournful. Ford jumped when the howl rose sharply before fading slowly out. It . . . affected something inside of him, the feelings of the song making him view the creature with pity, and a strange desire to help.

Thoughts distracted, he only noticed the wolf when it approached. Trembling, Stanford pulled out the knife. His thoughts turned to sirens that tricked sailor's with thier songs, and knew that it was entirely possible that this could be some sort of magic making him feel this way towards the creature.

It stopped upon seeing he was armed, ears laid back. It took another step forward and he swung the knife, shouting, "GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" as loud as he could.

The wolf turned tail and was gone in a matter of moments. Breathing hard, Ford picked up the lantern and made his way inside. He paused at the door, hearing the howling start back up, farther away in the woods. The pure, lonely, begging sadness was clear, and tugged at his heartstrings. Ford hesitated, shook his head, and went inside.

Pulling out various books on mythology and some others, he started sniffing out the cause for this wolf's strange behavior. What he finally put together both relieved and worried him. By then, it was early morning. Knowing Fiddleford would be arriving soon to help out on the newest case, he fixed himself some coffee and breakfast, eyes skimming yesterdays paper as he ate.

Almost everyday for the past two weeks there had been reports of animals disappearing, large, wolf-like tracks on the ground nearby, sometimes the remains of animals carcasses were found.

Among the few that had been found were gnawed right to the bone, leaving not a single scrap of meat behind, and often on very large animals, like horses or cows. It was very worrying indeed to have such a large creature wandering about near town, and most people were starting to avoid the woods at all costs, afraid that whatever was going for such big livestock would have no problem going after a weak, scrawny human.

But from what he had gathered and put together, Ford suspected that there was no need to worry. If the wolf, or, more like, werewolf, as he suspected it to be, had wanted to attack him, it would have gone for him the moment his presence was known.

Of course, there were a lot of "why"s and "what if"s involved in all of this. That's why he was waiting for Fiddleford. He had a plan. Or, the idea for a plan. Something that would help everybody.

Because, if his suspicions were correct, then this werewolf had no intentions of hurting anyone. In fact, it was more likely they were recently turned and seeking help so they could go back to normal and reverse the "curse".

Something felt . . . off, by the time the Professor arrived. Something was . . . missing.

"Hey, Stanford." Fidds greeted, taking a seat across from him, opening up the small folder that was shoved his way. "Anything new on the case?"

Ford nodded, and relayed what he had seen last night and had researched.

"Hm . . . it sounds to me like you have a plan already in mind."

Ford nodded. "Something like that, but we'll need more manpower than what we've got; we need Lee for this, but I'm not sure how cooperative he'll be, considering the past several days." he admitted.

Fiddleford glanced around. "Where is he, anyway? Doesn't he usually get up by now?" he questioned.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I'll go get him up." he drained the last of his mug, stood, and headed upstairs. He knocked on the door, and, receiving no response, pushed it open. "Up and at-'em bro. Come . . .on . . . " the bed was empty, sheets and quilt disheveled. The window was open wide, the curtains fluttering in the breeze and darkening the room.

Stanley was no where to be seen.

Panic gripped him. What if he was wrong? What if it was a trick? What if his brother had gone out last night and gotten attacked or killed by that thing? What if, what if, what if . . . .

Before he knew it, he was flying down the stairs, banging out the front door, and sprinting towards the woods. "STANLEY! BRO, WHERE ARE YOU?!" he shouted, pausing a long minute to listen for any answering calls.

He heard panting and footsteps, and turned around to see Fiddleford. "Stanford, what is going on?" he huffed out, bending over to place his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

Ford swiveled on his heel, looking around. "Stanley's not in his room, haven't seen him since the other evening, and I'm just, I'm just . . ." Fidds placed a calming hand on his shoulder, and he realized that he was starting to hyperventilate. He tried to slow his breathing, taking deep breaths.

When he'd finally calmed, Fidds lead him back towards the cabin. "I bet Stanley just wandered off somewhere. I'm sure he'll be fine." Fidds tried to console his coworker and friend.

It didn't help much.

There were precious few hours before the new moon.

He still hadn't found a new den. Mostly because he'd been putting it off, and didn't really want to. Something told him that it'd be okay, come morning, so long as he sprinted across the clearing, skittered up the slope, and through the hole in the wall to his own den.

But he had to be fast, or he'd miss his chance and he might not get back for even longer.

And his packbrother would be worried for longer. Looking back on the night before, he could realize that it was fear, and not anger, that drove his littermates words. It had been a misunderstanding; which meant that it was okay to return home. The territory was still shared with him, and he wouldn't be punished for entering.

Mind made up, the dark-furred creature slowly crept across the silent lawn, leaped high, clambered up the steep slope as quietly as possible, and tumbled into his den. He immediately felt a little better, now that he was in this familiar place. He was hungry, though . . . he'd spent most of this night crying and searching for a new den, rather than hunting.

And he hadn't hunted the previous night, either. At the moment, the large, furry creature was to exhausted from the wailing howls and sobbing of the past few nights to do much about his hunger.

That said, he slowly rose to his feet, hopped onto the bed, shook out his pelt. Nosing his way under the soft, worn, familiar quilt, and flopping onto his side, he fell swiftly asleep.

The next morning, Stanley woke up early, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and wandered downstairs to get himself something to eat. He felt strangely . . . off-balanced, odd, subdued. He wasn't sure if it was simply from the hunger clawing at his throat like some sort of monster, or if he'd gotten himself drunk or what. What he was sure of was that he his brother was immensely relieved when he came downstairs and saw him at the table.

Once more, just like two weeks ago, he had to explain that he didn't recall the last day or so very clearly, and that yes, he was alright. It took cooking some more pancakes and practically shoving them underneath his brothers nose to get him to finally shut up and start eating.

After Fiddleford arrived, Lee retreated to the living room side table, shuffling cards and absentmindedly listening as they talked about some creature preying on local farms.

His dreams were but a foggy memory now, and he actually felt better than he had for awhile. When the others asked him if he would like to help, he grinned wide and nodded, going to fetch his favorite pair of knuckle dusters, just in case.

They ended up circling the farms that had been hit the most and recently, to see if they could pick up any signs of the creature. The most they found was a well-trampled trail, leading through the woods. It was made by a very large creature, broad of shoulders, but short; probably the wolf. They followed it, but after several miles, it crossed a stream and disappeared, with no other leads.

While Fidds and his nerdy brother marked up the trail and location of the stream on their map, Lee picked his way a little farther downstream, glancing here and there. He didn't find anything, but he would've sworn he saw eyes on him, watching him from the brush. When he went to investigate it, though, there was nothing.

That night, Lee slept soundly and deeply, and there were no attacks anywhere. The next morning, he felt like his old self, and he assisted Ford and the Professor in going out and setting up a trap on the trail. It was designed to catch the creature, not hurt it, since it probably didn't want to hurt anyone, since it was blah blah blah. Lee stopped listening to it all after a couple minutes, focused more on the heavy pack on his back.

Before too long, they'd reached the location and were setting up a sort of net trap. Lee mostly helped with shifting around heavy objects. He felt strangely alert, as if feeling eyes watching him from all sides. It made him antsy, and he didn't like the feeling, since he could never pinpoint where the watcher was at. After they'd set up the trap, all they had to do now was wait and come check it the next morning.

The trap was tripped, but empty the next morning. Wolf tracks were clear in the muddy ground, going right up to where the tripwire was, but there was a large stone dropped on it.

Apparently, the creature was smarter than they originally thought. They'd have to up their game if they wanted to catch it. Over the next week, the attacks increased, as did sightings. The creature was growing careless or confident, and sloppy. It'd drag it's kill behind a shed or simply start chowing on it right where it'd killed it, often picking up and easily running off with the remains when someone spotted it.

Then, there were the rumors that it was sniffing around town. People were growing warier than ever, and no matter what trick Ford and Fidds thought to pull, it always managed to evade capture. They could never try the same trick twice. It always remembered and always got away.

Nearing the end of the second week, Ford grew increasingly anxious over it. From everything he'd read, werewolves went completely feral and lost all of their humanity on the full moon, meaning they were much more vicious and much more likely to attack a human should they come across one.

He was so busy trying to catch the thing that he didn't notice Lee starting to slip back, growing grumpier and grumpier, sleeping all day and barely eating a thing. Stanley still tried to help his brother, when asked, but there was always an extra amount of grumbling and a certain, lethargic slowness to his actions, his usual brash, sarcastic attitude nearly gone with his weariness.

He declined going out to help them check the latest attempt at a trap to catch the werewolf. He moved with slow, weary movements up the stairs and into his room.

Tonight was the night before the full moon. Lee crawled into bed and snuggled deep beneath the blankets, window open to allow in the cool breeze that hard started to blow. He remained awake a long time, dozing off only to jerk awake at some noise or another. He was just starting to drift off when he realized something.

His brother and his friend were setting traps for a werewolf. A WEREwolf, not a regular wolf. He leaped to his feet, tripped over one of his weights, and face-planted into the wooden floorboards. After several minutes of waiting for the pain to go away, he got more slowly to his feet and made his way downstairs, hoping to find his brother or some sign of where they had been headed to next.

Nothing. Nothing that could tell him where to look, at least. Finally, he made his way back upstairs, feeling a strong prickling at the back of his neck. Something was nagging at him. He closed and latched the door to his room, something he rarely did, and went to stand in front of the window. There was something he was missing, some clue or piece of the puzzle that, once found, would unravel the whole case, he just knew it.

He looked out at the darkening sky, noting the darkening clouds gathering to the northwest. Storms from that direction could be mild or crazy, but always brought torrents of rain, a good thing for the crops of surrounding farms, and could be expected around late summer or early fall.

Lee shook his head, frowning in thought. His mind traced back to when his brother had started going on about the case, but also of when he woke up, bitten and bleeding in the woods. He didn't notice the stars appearing in the sky. He only noticed the moon when a sharp pain flooded his body, as well as the shaggy fur starting to grow on his arms, and the sudden hunger he felt for fresh meat.

Panicking, he backed away from the window, eyes darting about for some means of escaping this, even as his human mind slipped away, his ears became pointed, a tail started to grow. It ached and burned, the changes did, and before long he could no longer stand. Collapsing with a dull whimper on the floor, he flinched and jerked and bucked and writhed in pain.

His face pushed out into a muzzle, his legs and arms thinned and grew lanky, covered in thick fur. His ears grew pointed, his teeth became sharp, and his hands and feet became paws. The tail stretched out and out, finally stopping. He whimpered, wincing as he felt a great pain stab through his whole body, his mind disappearing into darkness as the last of the thick fur grew on him.

His eyes closed tightly, and for several long moments, all was deathly silent, the only movement being the rapid rise and fall of the creatures chest, legs still entangled in human clothing.

The wolfs eyes opened suddenly, but were not big and wide and innocent. They were small, bare pinpricks of black surrounded by brown. With a hungry snarl, it stumbled to it's paws and turned sharp teeth on the clothes that hobbled it, ripping them to shreds in under a minute.

Freed of this burden, the wolf glanced around the unfamiliar place, looked to the window, and scented the air.

Backing up, the wolf raced forwards and jumped, claws scrambling and scratching the windowsill.

Skittering down the tiles of the roof, an easy leap to the ground, a brief pause to howl once towards the sky.

And then he was gone, with the light of the almost-full moon shining down on the forest.

Ta-da! And here, we have the second part of Moon's Light Madness! Can any of you guess what is happening to Lee? Did you know it was him until now?

Please review!