BEWARE THE MOON
By FAH3
FiVe:
He awoke with a yawn so wide that his jaw almost unhinged that was followed by a stretch of his limbs so long that it felt like he was about to pop both his arms and legs out of their sockets. John sat up in the bed and felt his vertebrae pop in line while he rubbed the last bit of sleep out of his eyes. He looked over at the other half of the bed and saw that it was vacant. Miriam must have already awoke before he did and left. She probably didn't want to talk and he couldn't blame her. Joseph's betrayal was still fresh. For now, he decided he would do the wise thing and give her as much space as she needed. John quickly gathered his clothes and got dressed as fast as he could. With the way he was feeling right now, maybe today would be a good day. That feeling was quickly replaced when he turned and saw the decaying form of Joss sitting in a chair that was in the corner, causing John to yelp rather loudly.
"Good morning to you too." She said.
"Go away, you're not really here." John said to her.
"Don't be a putz, John." She said and sighed.
"Where did you learn that word?"
"You do know you're not the only Jewish person in Blackmoor, right?" she asked him as she stood to her full height with her limbs making a noise that could almost could be considered her joints popping, but with a more horrific and morbid sound.
"What are you doing here?" John asked her.
"I came to say I told you so. You changed again."
"No, I didn't." John said.
"Oh yes, you did. Look at your shoes John." Joss said and pointed to his feet. John quickly looked down and saw that they were dirty and had a thin coat of mud here and there.
"So? They were probably like that from yesterday."
"Except the mud's still wet." Joss said, causing John to look again. "John, you're getting worse. You maimed someone last night. Once that full moon rises, you're going to change completely and then you're going to start killing. You have to do something."
"For the love of God." John said to himself. "If I had attacked someone, wouldn't my clothes be covered in blood?"
"I said that you maimed him, not eaten him." She said. John groaned as he balled his fists in frustration and raised his arms, fighting the urge to yank at his hair.
"Let's say that for a moment, I believe that you really are a ghost."
"Undead."
"Whatever. If I really am turning into a werewolf, what should I do?"
"Believe it or not, a lot of the other undead aren't really talkative. You wouldn't believe how depressing it is trying to talk to another corpse. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I automatically gain the answers to all of life's mysteries. The one thing that I have overheard them agree on is that one way for the wolf's curse to end – is for you to kill yourself."
"Kill myself? Are you serious?!"
"A lot of these people are victims of werewolves, John. They've got an axe to grind and are willing to almost do anything for them to finally cross over and rest in peace." Joss said.
"I'm not going to," John said.
He was about to say something else when the door to the room opened and Miriam walked in. John quickly looked at Joss before back to Mim, fearful of what her reaction might be.
"She can't see me, John. Trust me, I've been trying to talk to her for a while now." Joss said as Mim saw John.
"I was hoping you would wake up soon. For a while, I was wondering if I had gone to bed with a corpse." Mim said as she tried to put on a brave face.
"That was so funny that I forgot to laugh." Joss said and rolled her eyes.
"H-how are you feeling, Mim?"
"I'm not sure. Thanks for asking." Mim said. "Fritz had a little too much to drink, so he's trying to cure his hangover as we speak. So it'll probably be an hour or so before we can go back to the ranch."
"Good. I think I need to walk around a bit in order to help myself wake up."
"John, no!" Joss said as she stood to her feet urgently.
"That probably sounds like a good idea, John. I'm in no real mood to talk right now."
"Okay. I'll try to stay close by, so find me when it's time to head back to the Ranch." John said.
"Will do."
John left the room and was heading down the hall when he saw Joss step in front of him and begin to keep pace with him.
"John, stay here. You're not ready for what's out there." Joss warned.
"Are there more ghosts outside?" John asked her sarcastically.
"Ghosts as well as the undead. This thing has killed several people besides me, and you're no where near ready for what they look like."
"I'll do what ever I please." John said.
"John, I'm serious. What's out there is worse than any camp fire story or horror folk tale you've ever heard."
John stopped, glanced to the left and the right to make sure he was alone before turning to look at Joss in her putrid green colored face.
"I'm sick of this. I've been going out of my mind ever since I came here and I have had enough. So I am not going to stand here and be lectured on what I can and can't do by a walking – meatloaf!" John said and stormed off.
John stepped outside and took a deep breath as he felt the rays of the sun shine down upon him. He felt nervous as he looked and saw the people walking by and going about their normal lives. He did his best to push the fear deep down and began to walk down the street and enjoy the day. He was surprised at how many people actually took the time to say hello or wave to him. It was something he really wasn't use to from having grown up in the city. Back home, people mostly kept to themselves and were more rude than friendly. As he walked, he couldn't help but be bombarded by the various smells from nature all around him, the various cooking, and everything else. He could also hear the whispers from all the various people. Most of them were normal chit chat, but most of the conversations had one common element. The recent attacks and deaths that had happened. John's sense of survivor's guilt began to rear its head again as he walked and did his best to clear his head. As he glanced down the street, his eyes saw an Elk. In fact, it looked to be the same Elk that he had seen last night when he and Miriam arrived into town. What was it doing here? Another question also arose as John looked around himself. Why hadn't anyone else noticed it? He doubted it was common for wild animals to walk into town, let alone stand in the middle of a public street.
John took a few more steps forward when the Elk turned its head and made John gasp and take two steps back while his heart began to race. When the Elk had turned its head, it revealed that it's face had been clawed so deeply that he could see the exposed bone of its skull and the lips of its jaw ripped away to expose its teeth. One eye also dangled from its bloody and meaty socket by the fibers of its retina while it's fur from its head and down its neck was matted with blood. The skin of the poor creature's throat had been clawed and chewed away to expose muscles, veins, and arteries while a nasty and jagged hole had been torn into its windpipe. On the Elk's underside, a series of claw marks and bite wounds peppered it and revealed its ribs in a few spots. As the Elk looked at Jonathan, it let out a loud bellow that sounded wet, scratchy, and more like a noise that one might here from the pits of a nightmare spawned from dark corners that people fear to look into than a call from an animal.
John quickly looked away and kept walking, closing his eyes and rubbing them, He tried to repeat to himself that he was having an hallucination. That what had been there was a trick of the mind and senses. As he opened his eyes again and kept moving, he heard a voice that made his blood run cold. A voice he hadn't heard since the night of his attack.
"I'm here! Josette, look at me. Tell that you can at least hear me."
John looked to his left to see a young woman talking with a small group of people while she held a three year old girl with red hair by the hand. Both were wearing simple black dresses as they talked. Beside the young woman was Sean with the slash marks across his face from that night still looking wet and fresh while one went across his throat and was gaping wide open. The entire collar and most of the upper half of his shirt was soaked dark red from the blood that had flowed freely from the wound the night he was killed. He looked at the woman and child with his face contorted in desperate hopelessness as he begged for them to take notice of him.
"Beatrice, its Daddy. It's Daddy, sweetie. Can you hear me? Can you see me?" he pleaded with the child as tears flowed from his eyes and down his face like two small rivers. He looked at his wife again as he tried to stroke his wife's face and saw how miserable he became when it past through her as if he were made of nothing but mist. "Josette, please. Please, hear me." He pleaded as he wept.
"Oh, Sean. I'm so sorry." John whispered as he saw the sight before him.
Sean continued to weep as his wife and child finished their conversation, turned, and began to walk away. As Sean continued to weep, the undead man looked up and saw John's gaze. He also noticed that John was looking directly at him. Not knowing what else to do, John quickly turned and began to walk back in the direction he had come.
"John? John, you can see me. You can see me, can't you?" Sean asked desperately, but John continued to walk away. "John, please! I'm begging you! I need to tell my wife that I'm here! Please, John! PLEASE! JOHN, PLEASE!" Sean screamed, but Jonathan continued to walk away and tried to fight his tears as he heard the anguish in the man's voice.
"JOHN, PLEASE PLEASE!"
"It should have been you."
Another voice growled next to John. John turned and jumped backwards as he saw Bellamy glaring daggers at him. The pudgy man was as pale as a freshly bleached sheet with the jagged wound in his throat and windpipe wagging sickeningly in the small and gentle breeze. His hair was a mess with his clothes stained in dirt, mud, and his own blood as well.
"It should have been you." He said in a bitter and resentful tone. It was very surprising for a man that had no longer had any vocal cords.
"I – I," John stammered as he backed away into the space in between two buildings.
"Why did you live and we didn't? Why? WHY?!" Bellamy demanded. "IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!" the older man said and reached for Jonathan's throat with the full intent on strangling him.
Jonathan immediately backed away and fell over backwards over his own feet. He quickly stood to his feet in an effort to try and keep himself from the angry Bellamy before falling over again and pressing himself against the side of one of the buildings. His heart pounded and his breathing was elevated to a pace that made him feel like he had just ran for a mile. With everything he had seen still fresh in his mind, John began to weep and leaned his head against the building he sat against and began to weep. He closed his eyes in a vain effort but could still see the faces of the dead men and their horrid wounds.
"Make it go away. Please God, make it go away." John begged he said in a ragged breath.
"John?"
John flinched as he bolted his eyes open, jerked his head to the right, and was startled to see Father Lawrence looking down at him. The skinny man knelt down slowly and looked at John with concern in his eyes.
"John, is everything all right?"
"Father. Uh, I'm – just feeling a little – overwhelmed right now." John said as he looked at the priest and gulped when he saw Bellamy standing behind him, taking his thumb and dragging it across his throat in a threatening manner while glaring at John.
"You know, I am a good shoulder to cry on. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through recently."
"It hasn't been easy." Jonathan said as he took a deep breath as Bellamy walked away. "And no offence, I'm not Catholic. I don't think being in a confessional would help."
"John, helping others is what I do. If someone is in need of help, especially in spiritual needs, I do what I can. Just because you are Jewish doesn't matter to me. Besides, the God of the Jewish faith and my faith are one and the same." Lawrence said and saw the young man take a slow and steady breath.
"Father, what do you know about possession?" John asked and noticed the peculiar look on Lawrence's face. "Like demonic possession by an animal?"
"Well," Lawrence said. "I'm afraid possession isn't something I really studied in the seminary, John. I know about the Holy Spirit, the good book, but nothing really along the lines of what you're asking."
"I was afraid of that."
"Do you think you're being possessed by something?"
"I really don't know."
"I normally wouldn't do this, John. Since you seemed so concerned, I think there may be someone who might be able to help."
"You do?" John asked.
"There's a woman that lives on the other side of town; not too far from the school house. She works at the bank, but I believe she used to be a gypsy from what I've heard."
"What's her name?"
"Her name is Maleva. She moved here ten years ago. If you choose to go to her, I advise that you take what ever she tells you with a grain of salt."
"I will. Thank you, Father."
"Any time, John." Lawrence said with a smile and stood to his feet. "You have a good day." He said as he began to walk away. As he did, John could hear the song he was singing mostly to himself. "God is in his Holy temple. Earthly thoughts, be silent now."
After Father Lawrence left, John stood to his feet and did his best to dust the dirt off of his pants and his shirt before stepping back to the sidewalk he had been on moments before. He quickly glanced to the left and right and didn't see the Elk, Sean, nor Bellamy. Convinced that there weren't any ghosts, specters, or undead lurking in the streets anymore, John stepped out into the street and began heading towards the edge of town. After asking for directions only once, he soon found the home of Maleva. Like the others, it didn't stand out from the others. It was a simple building with a coat of white paint that might need to be redone sometimes soon with nothing else that stood out. Not a fence, not even a hedge, or even a chair outside. After giving his knuckles a quick pop, he began to approach the house.
"She always gave me the creeps." Joss said, appearing next to John within a blink of an eye.
"Would you stop doing that?!" John begged.
"I tried to warn you about what was out here. You're the one that didn't listen."
"I'm an idiot, I admit it. Okay?"
"So do you believe me now?"
"I'm not admitting that I believe you." John said.
"You're here to talk to the old gypsy lady, aren't you?"
"Joss,"
"Okay. I'll stop." Joss said as John knocked on the door. "What are you going to say? I'm a werewolf, can you help me?"
"I don't know. I've never been a monster before."
"Who is it?" a voice called from inside.
"My name is John, ma'am. I was told you could help me."
"I'm just a clerk at the Bank. If you have a problem with your account, talk to the manager."
"It has nothing to do with that, ma'am. I was told you could help me with . . . something else."
John could hear the shuffle of footsteps before he heard the locks on the door being unbolted and the door opening. In front of him wasn't an old woman at all. She was a woman that was in her late thirties, maybe even in her early forties. She wore a simple green dress with her brown hair done in a bun with only a few strands of grey that could barley be seen. The make up she wore was simple while the perfume she wore felt like it was stinging his nostrils.
"I don't know what the local gossip mill has been spinning, but I don't do fortune telling, I don't look into crystal balls, and I don't read tarot cards. If you please, just leave me alone."
"Ma'am, please." John begged as he placed his hand against the door. "I'm not here for anything like that, I promise you. Father Wagner sent me here because I have questions that are – of a spiritual nature." John said and saw the woman roll her eyes.
"What did you say your name was?"
"It's Jonathan Stoppable, but everyone just calls me John." He said. Once he told her his full first name, her posture straightened as her brow furrowed.
"You're the one that was attacked, weren't you?"
"Yes, I was." He said and saw her brow furrow even more.
"May I see the wound? Where you were bitten?" she asked him.
With a reluctant exhale, John unbuttoned the first few top buttons of his shirt and opened it wide enough to show the bite wounds that were now almost completely healed. She looked carefully before her gaze changed from curious to sympathetic.
"Have you seen them yet? The undead?" she asked him in a lower tone of voice as he buttoned his shirt. From the way John frowned, that was all the answer she needed. "Come inside, please."
John entered the house and was immediately assaulted by a strange smell he had never encountered before. It was sweet, but very pungent. John did his best to ignore the smell as he saw a living room that looked normal. There was a simple pale blue sofa under the window of the far right wall with a love seat sitting opposite from it. On the side tables were oil lamps, but the open windows allowed enough of the light of the sun in to illuminate the room. There were pictures of her younger self with a rather handsome man with dark hair that was maybe her height. There were also pictures of children here and there, as well as a few paintings. It looked rather simple and reminded him of his aunt's house that he and his family used to visit when he was younger.
"Have a seat, please. I was brewing some tea when you arrived. Would you like any?"
"No, thank you." John said as he sat nervously on the couch.
Maleva walked out of the living room and into her kitchen. She was there for only a few brief moments before she returned shortly afterward with a cup of tea and sat down on the loveseat.
"You have many questions, don't you?"
"To say the least." John said.
"I must ask you about the creature that attacked you. What did it look like?"
"It was large. It walked on all fours, but then it stood like it was a man. It was dark and I couldn't see any clear features. But it had fur and its eyes were yellow."
"Your senses have improved after the bite, didn't they? You feel rejuvenated? Almost like when you were younger?"
"Yes, I have."
"But you also have gaps in your memories. Hours at a time."
"I fell asleep in my bed and woke up next to a river the next morning." John said while Maleva shook her head and sighed.
"There is no kind or gentle way to explain this to you, Mr. Stoppable. But you have been inflected with a very ancient curse. You are becoming a wolf."
"A – friend of mine – tried to tell me that the other day. But I find all of this hard to believe."
"If that were true, you wouldn't be here right now." Maleva said.
John felt a knot in his stomach as he bit his lip and took a few more breaths. He wanted to cry and scream, stomp and shout. He wanted to do so many things but he also had so many questions and didn't know where to start.
"For the past several nights, I've had black outs. The moon wasn't even full." John said and furrowed his brow as Maleva chuckled. "You actually find this funny?"
"No, Mr. Stoppable. I'm only laughing at the fact that you believe in the myth that the wolf emerges only when the moon is full."
"It doesn't?" John asked, confused.
"You are in conflict with the animal that dwells within you. It fights for release; even now. During the day, you are the one in control of yourself while it stirs, buried within your mind. At night, when you sleep, is when the beast comes out. Once the full moon rises, it will assume full control and you will fully change."
"So I'm going to turn into a monster and start killing people?" John asked in a quivering voice.
"Not necessarily." Maleva said.
"Do what?" Joss asked.
"What do you mean?" John asked her.
"The nature of the beast depends on the nature of the man. Everyone is different, Mr. Stoppable. Your beast may not hurt anyone unless it is forced to. It may only hunt what it needs to survive like other animals and avoid people entirely. Some may not even change at all."
"How can you be sure?"
"My people have dealt with these creatures before. The knowledge we have gained has come at the cost of the blood of many of our loved ones. Countless times we have seen that those who are kind will sometimes be the most violent of monsters while those who act like they are cold prove that they are really gentle. Everyone is like the moon, Mr. Stoppable. Each has a side that people see and a side that no one sees."
"So what am I?"
"I'm afraid that you are the only one that can answer that. Only when you and the wolf accept that both of you are part of a whole, then the changes will come only when you want them to." She said.
"Is there a cure for what's happening to me?"
"You mean to rid yourself of the beast and return to being human?" she asked him with John nodding his head yes. "I'm afraid not. The only way to stop a werewolf is with silver. Shot with a silver bullet, stabbed with a sword or dagger with a silver blade. Death is the only true cure." She said after taking a deep breath.
"What about a treatment? Is there at least something to slow the process?"
"There may be ways to keep the beast at bay. Rites, various herbs combined together, even talismans. Sadly, I don't know the rites and the herbs are far away from here." Maleva said and then began to think. "I may have a talisman." She said as she stood.
She walked to a rather large bureau in the corner. She opened a drawer and rifled through the objects in it before pulling out a pendant with a thin leather strap attached to it. She walked over to John and placed it in his hand before sitting next to him.
"This amulet has been with my people for several generations. It is to be worn against the skin and will prevent the beast from emerging. There will be some pain as it struggles to come out, but it will be kept at bay."
John looked at the amulet and saw that it was a fairly large disk made of silver with an engraving of a wolf's head on both sides. There was some patina to it from age, but it looked rather unremarkable.
"So this is my only hope?" he asked her and noticed how the woman hesitated.
"There may be another way." She finally said.
"I'm listening."
"No one knows if it's true or not. Some of my people think that if you are able to find the wolf that bit you, you can undo the curse it gave you by killing it and then eating its heart."
Jonathan paled as soon as the words entered his ears. In order for him to regain his life, he would have to kill. Not only kill, but eat part of the creature responsible for biting him? The idea of killing another person, no matter what it had done, made him sick. Then to eat a part of it as well? He was by no means a vegetarian, and loved a good roast or turkey as much as the next man. However, there were people that were in those trades. A wave of nausea washed over him and he had to place his hands on the cushions to support himself as he fought down the bile that was in his gut.
"I – I can't. I can't do that." Jonathan breathed.
"There aren't many who can willing bring themselves to do such a thing." Maleva told him.
"I guess I'm going with the amulet." John said as he looked at it again. "Why are you so willing to help me? I couldn't help but notice how curt you were earlier."
"Because I have a rather odd request of you, Mr. Stoppable." Maleva said as she sat on the loveseat again. She began to cough and quickly removed a white handkerchief from an unseen pocket; placing it against her mouth as her coughing became worse. As she coughed loudly, it sounded like she was having a hard time trying to catch her breath as the coughs were rather raspy. After a few moments, the coughing subsided and she was able to catch her breath. As she pulled the handkerchief away, she quickly did her best to wipe away the small amount of blood that was on her lips.
"I want you to bite me."
"Excuse me?" John asked.
"If you couldn't tell, I have tuberculosis. My husband and I moved here to make my condition easier. Sadly, he passed away five years ago from pneumonia and left me here by myself. I'm eager to see him again, but; my faith isn't as strong as others. So, I'm hoping that you may bite me." She said.
"You would rather be damned than die?" John asked her.
"As I said, the nature of the beast depends upon the nature of the person. I plan on moving from here soon, since my condition has worsened in recent months. It's far enough to give me solitude, and far from people in case you honor my request." Maleva said and raised her hand to John.
John looked at her hand for a moment and actually considered granting her request. After remembering everything that had just happened, including encountering the undead spirits of Sean and Bellamy, he began to shake his head.
"I can't. I'm so sorry, but I can't condemn anyone else to this." John said.
"I understand. Keep the amulet, and may God be with you." She said to him as she lowered her hand.
"Thank you, Miss Maleva." John said as he bowed his head, stood and left the house.
John was nervous as he stepped outside again. He kept glancing back and fourth, making sure that there weren't anymore undead moving about. As he glanced toward the cemetery, his heart sank. He saw numerous people in the graveyard, many of them part of the hunting party that had tried to kill the creature, or wolf, that had killed them. John quickly turned the opposite direction and began walking as fast as possible. As he walked, he looked at the silver amulet that Maleva had given him. There wasn't anything that stood out about it at all except for the wolf's head on both sides. It was simple but beautiful at the same time. Other than that, there was nothing. No words, symbols, or anything else. How was this supposed to stop him from turning into a – monster?
"Mr. Stoppable?"
The voice was very sudden and cause John to flinch as he came to an abrupt stop. John looked up and saw Sheriff Wagner in front of him, wearing a simple gray slate suit with his badge pinned to his brown vest. His chestnut hair was combed backwards with a few strands hanging in front of his face with his face cleanly shaved and his mustache trimmed.
"It's nice to see you walking about. How are you feeling?" the sheriff asked.
"For the most part, I feel fine."
"Some folks said you were looking a little stressed a few minutes ago." The sheriff said.
"That's because I saw – Sean's family." He said.
"Sean? One of the men that was with you that night?"
"Yes. He showed me a picture of his wife and daughter that night and I saw them as I was walking. I started to feel guilty when I saw them and I – I started feel - anxious." John said.
"That's understandable. I've been in similar spots myself. What's that you got?" Wagner asked as he pointed to the amulet.
"Oh. A souvenir that I thought Mim would enjoy." John said as he put the amulet away in his left pocket.
"She's quite a lady. Forgive me for being nosey, but I understand you two were in town last night?"
"We were. We came with Fritz to get supplies and it was too late to go back. So we stayed at the hotel."
"Why did you tag along? I've seen Fritz here plenty of times getting things for the ranch. And I know he's plenty strong to load up the wagon by himself." Wagner said.
"Truth be told – Mim found out that someone close to her – wasn't what they seemed." John said, reluctantly.
"She found out that Mankey likes to sleep around, didn't she?" Wagner asked.
"It's not my place to say."
"I'll take that as a yes." The sheriff said as he scratched his jaw. "Did you two stay at the hotel for the entire night?"
"We did. As soon as we went to the room, we stayed there all night." John said and realized what was happening. "There was another attack, wasn't there?"
"There was, but not like yours. One of Talbot's boys was attacked last night by a man no one's seen before."
"Oh my God. Is he okay?"
"He's got some broken bones and deep cuts. Whoever attacked him tore three of his fingers off at the knuckle. So whoever hurt him was incredibly strong."
"And no one heard anything?" John asked as his police training started to kick in.
"The attack happened near the tavern and they were having a party. So no one heard anything. Did either of you notice anything out of the ordinary before going to the hotel?"
"No. Like I said, we went straight to bed after we checked in. We were asleep not too long after. Did either of them see what the man looked like?" John said.
"It was too dark out. It didn't help that the boy that was attacked was drunker than a skunk and his brother ran off. We found the brother hiding in his father's barn shaking like a leaf. I take it you'll be heading back to the ranch?"
"Later today."
"All right. Well, I'll be by if I have anymore questions. You take care, Mr. Stoppable." Wagner said and walked away.
John began to walk away as his breathing started to quicken. He began to feel dizzy as he remembered what Joss had told him earlier that morning. There was fresh dirt and mud on his shoes. Did that mean he could have attacked the boy? John was starting to feel his chest grow tight as his breathing became labored. John walked off to the side again and stood in between two buildings again. He was trying to control his breaths in an effort to try and steady himself. There was a stray dog that began to sniff at John's pants, so he tried to wave the dog away. John reached into his pockets for the amulet, forgetting where he had placed it. He felt the amulet in his left pocket but noticed that there was also something else in his right pocket. It was a wad of cloth that he knew he didn't have last night. Carefully, he removed the wadded cloth and saw that it was stained with blood. John's hands were beginning to shake as he slowly unwrapped the cloth.
"Oh my God." John whispered to himself and dropped the cloth on the ground.
Wrapped in the cloth were three fingers. The fingers still looked slightly pink, but pale, with skin from where the knuckles would be still attached. The skin had obviously been ripped away from the hand they were once attached too like paper. John's breathing accelerated and felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. The stray dog that had been sniffing him quickly turned its attention to the fingers and cloth on the ground before snatching them in its jaws and running away. John watched as the dog left for a moment or two before leaving the area he had been standing and making his way back into the street. Everything was spinning and blurred into one. All the noise, all the sights, nothing had shape or definition. Nothing was separate or stood out on its own anymore. It was like the whole world was like a fresh oil painting and it had just been completely covered with paint thinner. His fear was so great that not only did it slither and pierce through his body like a serpent made of ice, but it also began to constrict around his chest. It felt like an ever increasing pressure was circling his lungs and heart; hindering his ability to breath. John wasn't even aware of where he was until he heard Fritz talking to him.
"John, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You have no idea." John said. "W-where's Mim?"
"Slim came to town to check on us after we didn't come back. He gave her a ride back with him on his horse. Are you all right?"
"I don't know, Fritz. I really don't know." John said. "Can we go back to the ranch yet?"
"Sure, I've already got the wagon loaded." Fritz said.
In no time at all, the two of them sat beside each other on the wagon. Fritz gave the reigns a quick flick and they were on their way. Most of the trip was in silence with Jonathan looking pale and vexed. Halfway through the ride, John finally decided to speak.
"Fritz, do you know Maleva?"
"I've talked to her a few times here and there. I also helped her out now and then when her husband died. Why you ask?"
"Do you think she knows what she's talking about?" John asked.
"That depends." Fritz said with his voice taking a serious tone, a far departure from the often relaxed way he spoke. "What were you talking to her about?"
"The supernatural." John said, not knowing what else to say.
"When it comes to that subject, I do believe she knows what she's talking about."
"How?" John asked.
"John, I've seen a lot of strange shit in my life and so has she. If anyone saw half of what we have, it'd turn their hair white. She and I believe in a lot of the same things. Not just because of our families, but because of the way both of our lives have gone. So if she's given you any advice when it comes to what you call supernatural, then I say take it." Fritz said.
"Thank you."
"Any time." Fritz said.
Miriam was doing her best to keep busy as she helped the cook, Vee, getting lunch prepared in the kitchen. She was trying to fight back her tears each time she thought of a moment she and Joseph Mankey had spent time together. The countless times that they had sat in the study talking about books, him showing the sights of the town, when he would take her on a picnic, or her trying to teach him how to improve his manuscript. His manuscript. She paused in dicing carrots as she thought of his stupid half assed written manuscript and her grip on the knife grew tighter. Her nostrils flared as she realized that their whole courtship was a ruse just so he could her help with his poorly thought story. As that thought crept into her mind, her lip quivered as she fully realized that she had been used. She had been played for a sucker and ignored all the warning signs that were practically slapping her in the face. How could she have been such an idiotic, blind fool?
Miriam's thought of her own short sightedness were disrupted when she heard the front door open and a pair of feet traveling up the stairs as fast as they could. She entered the foyer and saw the door was still wide open while Rufus, sitting in the entrance to the study, looked up the stairs and whined slightly. Looking out the front door, she saw that Fritz had returned with the wagon and was already starting to unload it. Suspecting on who had just entered the house, she quickly made her way upstairs to John's room. She came to the door and saw that it was closed. She knocked on it slightly but received no answer.
"John?"
"Go away." John said from inside.
"John, are you all right?"
"Mim, please. Just go away." John replied.
Mim opened the door and saw John sitting on the floor with a rope tied around his arm and the other end tied to the heavy bed post of his bed. His tears were damp from tears as his head hung so low that it threatened to fall right off of his neck and into his lap. Mim walked to her friend and sat in front of him. As she did so, she saw how he turned his head in an effort to not look at her.
"John, what's wrong?"
"Miriam, please go." John said.
"Not until you tell me what in the world is going on with this." She said as she put a finger under the rope and lifted the tether slightly.
"Mim, I'm dangerous. I'm not safe to be around."
Mim scoffed at what John had said and tried not to laugh. She cared for him and knew that he had always meant well. However, she had known John for the majority of her life and knew for a fact that dangerous was the last thing that Jonathan could ever be.
"John, I'm not in the mood for anymore games."
"It's not a game. You're all in danger. Mim, you need to kill me." John said as he looked at her in the face with tears rolling down his cheeks. As soon as she saw how serious he was, she truly began to worry about her friend.
"John, you need to talk to me. What's going on with you?"
"Mim,"
"No more, John. My patience can only go so far, but I've had enough. To say the last few days have been frustrating is a grave understatement and I refuse to play any more games. Now please, tell me what is going on with you."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." John said.
"Try me." Mim challenged.
With a slow and heavy sigh, John began to tell Miriam of everything that had happened to him ever since he had come to the town of Blackmoor. Every little detail he could remember of that night in the woods, the nightmares, and everything that had been happening to him since he woke up. He told her about everything, including his talks with her now undead cousin, Jocelyn. Every detail he relayed to her sounded ridiculous, ludicrous, and even comical. He could see that Mim was having a hard time trying to keep a straight face as he relayed every little detail of his ordeal. He also told her what Maleva had told him and showed her the amulet that he had been gripping in his unbound hand. Even of the gruesome discovery of the fingers that were in his pocket. When he finally stopped, Mim bit her lower lip as she let out a slow sigh of her own.
"I don't know if I should laugh, cry, or have Fritz get the men in white coats." She said.
"I told you that you wouldn't believe me." John said as he leaned his head back against the bed's mattress.
"John, what did you expect? It sounds so completely ridiculous."
"It's the truth!" John protested.
"I know how to convince her." Joss said, appearing to John's left and making him flinch again.
"Are you all right?" Mim asked him.
"It's Joss again."
"Oh, John." Mim groaned and began to rub her temples.
"Tell Mim that her Sunday dress is in my dresser."
"How is that supposed to help?" John asked.
"Just repeat what I say word for word." Joss said.
Mim looked up at John as he continued to look his left and was nodding his head like he was listening to something. Mim was ready to get up and fetch the doctor herself when John reached out with his free hand and stopped her. He looked at her with full seriousness in his eyes as he took a deep breath.
"Joss kept your favorite Sunday dress in the lower drawer of her dresser. You loaned it to her so she could go the town's church revival." John said as he turned to his left again and nodded a few more times. "You loaned it to her because her monthly visitor arrived and ruined the dress she wanted to wear."
Mim froze in place as she looked at John with her mouth slightly open. How did he know about that? Did she write it down and he read it? No, Joss never kept a journal. She hated writing because,
"She didn't write a journal." John said, interrupting Mim's train of thought. "Because of the accident when she was nine. It hurt too much to write for too long. What accident?" John asked her.
"She fell off a horse when she was nine years old. She broke her hand when she fell and it never healed right. If she wrote for too long, her hand would start to hurt." Mim said as she took a shaking breath. "She swore me to secrecy about that night. She was so embarrassed about the dress that she threatened to cut my hair in my sleep if I ever told anyone." Mim said.
"Do you believe me now?" John asked his old friend.
"Sh-she's trapped? She's stuck like that until the – thing that killed her is stopped?"
"Pretty much." John said.
"Oh, Joss." Mim said and started to cry. "Does she know who did it?"
"No, Mim. If she did, I think she would have told me by now." John said and took a deep breath. "So what are we going to do?" he asked her.
"First thing's first. Let's get you out of this." Mim said as he began to work on the rope that was tied to the bed post.
"Mim, I told you that I'm dangerous."
"And I know that you were never good at tying knots." She said as she easily undid the rope around the bed post and his wrist with a small smirk.
"Well, shucks." John muttered under his breath.
"Second, I think we should give this a try." Mim said as she took the amulet from John's hand. "If Fritz believes in what this Maleva has to say, then it's worth a try." She said as she untied the thin piece of leather and tied it around John's neck.
John inhaled sharply as he felt the cold piece of medal touch his skin and had to admit he felt a small shiver as soon as he started wearing it. Mim then stood to her feet and helped John to his as she dusted him off here and there.
"So now what?"
"Now, we try and find out who the real monster is." Mim said.
"What about me? When the sun sets,"
"We'll deal with that when it happens. If what Maleva says is true, that medallion should help. Also, I don't think it would hurt me."
"What about Talbot's son?"
"John, everyone here knows for a fact that Talbot's youngest is a very short tempered and violent little turd. When he's had too much to drink, he gets even worse. We had to stop Fritz and a few of the others from beating him into a greasy stain when he tried to get too rough with one of the ladies in town."
"So you think I attacked him in self-defense?"
"It makes sense to me." Mim said. "It seems we're both cursed, aren't we? You seemed to be cursed with luck and I happen to be cursed with a horrible choice in men."
"Mim, you're not the only one that's made bad choices when it comes to men. At least you didn't kiss him. You didn't, did you?"
"No, I never kissed him or anything else." Mim said as John breathed a sigh of relief. "But I wanted to." Mim said as she turned from John and looked out the window. "I'm never going to have a normal life, am I?"
"Normal is over rated. You and I both know that it's the weirdoes that make the world go round."
"But look at all we've been through. Even before the expo, we have been through more adventures than writers like Jules Vern or H.G. Wells could ever dream. Even now, we're still being put through trials that would drive anyone else insane. I just want to find someone that can make me happy. That makes me feel like I matter. And where nothing mind boggling or crazy happens for once. I'm never going to find anyone like that, am I?" she asked.
"That's quitter talk, and you know it. You've got to stay strong, Mim. If Mankey didn't realize how lucky he was to be with you, then that's his own fault and his own stupidity. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, then it's you." John reassured her.
"Do you really think that there's someone out there for me?" Mim asked as she turned to face John.
"Out there." He said and hesitated for a moment. Summing up all of his courage, he looked down, unable to face his friend as he made a long held confession to her. "In here." he said.
Mim looked at John with her mouth coming slightly agape as she looked at him. She had long thought that John may have had romantic feelings for her, but she was never sure. She couldn't bring herself to ask out of fear for what it would do to their friendship. After all, John was the one friend she had since childhood and, without a doubt, had been her rock through these times. If she were truthful with herself, she had strong feelings for him too. In fact, that was why she took things so slow with Mankey and with others in the recent past. She couldn't help but compare each suitor to John and her feelings for him. If he felt the same for her that she felt for him, then she had to make sure.
"Really?" she asked. John simply nodded his head yes. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I – I was too afraid." He said and looked at her. "The one thing I've always wanted the most was for you to do what made you happy, and not what made me or anyone else happy. So if you being happy meant you wanted to spend your life with someone else, then I wasn't going to interfere." John said as he felt his heart beat quicken to such a pace that it felt as if his heart was becoming stuck in his throat.
"W-well," Mim started and quickly licked her lips that felt suddenly dry. "What if being with you makes me happy?" she asked him.
"Me? Even though I'm incompetent as a police officer and now I'm turning into a monster?" he asked her.
"John, you're one of the bravest men I know. I've seen you practically walk through fire and brave madmen when others would run. And I have watched you bend yourself to such lengths that I was afraid you would break. That speaks more about you than anything."
"So – you love me?" John asked with hope glowing in his eyes like the embers of a quite fire.
"I always have." She said as she held his hand in hers tightly. "So what do we do now?"
"Can I kiss you?" he asked her.
"Please."
Fritz was walking up the stairs after he had finished unloading the wagon to check on John. The events of the past few days and the trip back home had the ranch hand more than a little worried about the man and wanted to make sure he wasn't doing anything rash or stupid. He had a theory of what might be happening to him but didn't want to jump to conclusions. He had just stepped onto the second floor and was close to John's door when he saw that the door was closed, but there was also a noise coming from the other side. His brow furrowed in confusion as he paused and listened. After some time, he recognized the sound. It was the sound of the bed frame creaking. In fact, the way it was creaking reminded him of all the times he would go and pay Jenny a visit in town. Fritz eyebrows raised for a moment as he wondered who John was in there with.
"Fritz?" Timothy asked as he soon joined him upstairs. "Have you seen Miriam? Vee said that she was helping her in the kitchen earlier, but headed up here." the rancher said.
Upon hearing this, Fritz's eyebrows raised so high that they threatened to blend in with his hairline while his cheeks turned a shade of rose red.
"I think I might have a guess." Fritz whispered as he pressed his finger to his lips to keep Slim quite and pointed his thumb to the closed door.
Timothy listened for a moment before his own eyebrows raised as he straightened his posture.
"I think we should give them some time alone." Fritz said.
"Good idea." Slim whispered as he and Fritz began to walk downstairs. "It's about damn time." Slim said while Fritz chuckled.
It was late. The sun had been down for some time and Sarah, the school teacher, should be getting ready for bed. Instead, she had spent the past several hours crying. Word had spread throughout the town on how she was now Joseph Mankey's latest conquest. She could hear the whispers wherever she went which hurt bad enough. But the reaction from some of the men in town were worst. The leers, the rude comments that made her cringe whenever she repeated them in her brain; it made her feel so unclean and dirty. Now there were also rumors saying that she was responsible for splitting Joseph and Miriam up. When it came to the men, at least they went out of their way to try and be subtle. The women in the town didn't hesitate to be venomous.
Almost every single woman she had encountered today kept glaring daggers at her with so much disdain that it felt like they were sending pure ice from their eyes. Then there were the names. The woman acted like they were trying to whisper under their breath, but that was just to keep up their appearance. They were making damn sure that Sarah heard them and knew how they felt. Names like strumpet, tart, and so much worse. She was being socially branded a whore in a modern version of the scarlet letter. She wasn't trying to break up Joseph and Mim. Joseph had told her that he had already broken off their relationship. That he cared about her and her alone and he was still going to Mim to learn more about writing. She was a fool and now she was being punished for it. She wished that the words didn't hurt, but they did. Each time she was insulted or someone insinuated that she was a prostitute felt like a slap to the face while someone wore a diamond ring palm side down. Only a few short hours ago, her situation had become even worse.
She had been feeling ill for the past several days and wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She was afraid she was becoming ill and had visited the doctor. To her surprise, the doctor told her that the tests he had conducted revealed that she was pregnant. There was no denying who the father was. While the news of a baby should be a joyous occasion, the news of her impending child would make her more of a pariah and an outcast. She had no more family since her parents had died of cholera, one cousin died of pneumonia, and the last living cousin she was aware of died of a drug overdose. She had no other home than the one she had made for herself in town. Now, because she fell in love with the wrong man, that life was falling apart and slipping away. There was only way out that she could see.
In front of her was a bottle from the pharmacist. It was supposed to help with headaches but Sarah knew for a fact that too much was deadly. It was the same narcotic that her cousin had become so addicted to and overdosed on. From what she understood, when she drunk enough, it would relax her, ease her into sleep, and then she would be greeted with eternity. She finished writing her letter to Mankey and placed it in an envelope addressed to him on the corner of her desk. The last letter was addressed to whoever would find her afterwards. In it, she explained in detail why she was doing this and the actions that lead her to make such a drastic decision.
"Suicides go to hell. Especially ones that are pregnant." She said to herself as she set the letter on top of her bible. She looked at the bottle beside it, grasped it, and began to open it. "At this point, I don't care anymore." She said as she sobbed.
She was bringing the bottle close to her lips as she closed her eyes and took what she assumed would be her final breaths on this Earth. She hesitated for a moment before she pressed the glass to her lips. She began to raise it upwards when she hears something outside and stopped. She put the bottle back on the desk as she turned and looked out the window. She could have sworn that she heard something moving outside. The last thing she needed or wanted was an audience at that moment. She capped the bottle and walked to her window. It was dark out and there weren't any lit lanterns near her. What she could see was very limited. There was a brief flash of lightning as a storm began to roll in with a rumble of thunder following a few seconds after. At first, she didn't see anything outside her home at all. When another flash of lightning briefly lit the darkened world outside, she gasped when she saw a huge, hulking form covered in a thick coat of fur.
She screamed as the creature leapt through the window, showering her in pieces of shattered glass as a pair of strong clawed hands gripped her by her shoulders and threw her against the wall. The side of her head hit the wal and every blurred for a moment as she saw the large form moving against her. She screamed again as she raised her arms in front of her in an effort to ward the creature off, but was rewarded with intense pain as the creature bit into the soft flesh of her left arm and shook its head violently while it pressed its claws against her, tearing her flesh as it pressed her against the wall to keep her from fleeing.
She jerked her arm away from the horrific form in front of her and was horrified as she saw that a large chunk of her skin and muscle had been torn away and revealed bone while blood flowed freely and coated the rest of her arm. That was when the monster's hands gripped her tightly by her throat and began to lift her off the ground. Her breathing was raced while her heart was beating so faster than the wings of a humming bird. She was frozen in a horrific shower of terror as the last thing she saw were a pair of glaring yellow eyes and a ferocious animal growl before its teeth sank into her neck and the walls were coated in waves of arterial spray.