Chapter 7
After Sam's horrifying transformation into a werewolf, everything about his past started to make sense. He had grown up in the Rocky Mountains, where there were plenty of wild animals to hunt. His immediate family was dead because he was still inside their house when he transformed. He couldn't have killed them on purpose, because something more primitive was in control of his actions!
I was pulled from my thoughts when the beast in front of me whimpered like a hurt puppy, its ears folded back against its skull. I couldn't help myself: I had to see if my friend was still in there somewhere, even though he himself told me to run.
"Sam? Are you okay? It's me, Luna," I said slowly as the werewolf lumbered around, looking at its surroundings. I crept forward and stretched out my hand. The werewolf's yellow slit-pupiled eyes met mine, and I held its gaze for a few moments. It then stood on its hind legs, craned its neck, and let out a long, ghostly howl.
The rest of the student body had been standing and staring, paralyzed with fear. However, the minute the werewolf stopped howling, everyone screamed and started rushing to the school building. I nearly got trampled in the flood of students and teachers. I expected the werewolf to chase after them and chow down on the stragglers, but that's not what happened. Instead, it bared its fangs in a snarl, turned, and ran on all fours across the courtyard.
It vanished into the trees, and that was the last I saw of it that night.
...
I managed to round up my sisters from among the panicking crowd, and we kept a wary eye out as we made our way home. When we reached the house, Mom asked us what was wrong, and I told her we'd say as soon as everyone was home and safely indoors. Seeing our state of worry, Lucy shut down her maze and allowed us to call Dad and the younger sibs home. Once they arrived, I called Lincoln and told him and his friends to shelter in place. With Lincoln on speakerphone, I explained to the best of my ability what had happened at the dance, which surprised everyone but Lucy.
"I kinda suspected that he was a Lycan. His appearance and immunity to the cold were what got my attention. We should probably call Sandra and tell her as well," she suggested.
"Good idea...wait, what did you call him?" I asked.
"There are two kinds of werewolves. The fact that your boyfriend transformed against his will makes him a Lycan," Lucy explained.
"H-hey! I-I didn't say he was my b-boyfriend!" I stammered, once more feeling my face heat up.
"Oh, please, it's painfully obvious that you two like each other. You're both just too chicken to admit it!" said Lola. Jeez, that girl can be brutal when she wants to be! Anyway, I caved and called Sandra. She answered her phone after three rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sandra, it's Luna. We need to talk about Sam."
"Oh, crud, it's a full moon, isn't it? Tell me your address and I'll be right over." I gave her the address of my family's house and warned her not to use the broken doorbell, and she hung up. Five minutes later, she knocked on the door, and Mom let her in. She stood in the middle of the floor with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. "So, you found out about his condition, huh?" she finally asked.
"You knew he was a werewolf?" I asked in return.
"How could I not have? It's a family curse that manifests in one person every seven generations. Sam was just the unlucky one to get it," she explained. "My brother and his wife did their best to handle it themselves, but I'm guessing Sam transformed before they could get him outside. Any late-night hikers that got caught in the crossfire were usually declared to be the victims of bear maulings, but for the most part, the Wolf went after the wildlife. It's why they chose to live in the mountainous pine forest of Colorado."
"What do you mean, 'the Wolf'? Shouldn't you refer to Sam by his name?" Mom asked.
"Sam's not the one in control. The Wolf exists as a separate entity, so Sam has two minds sharing the same body." It was Lucy who answered, and Sandra seemed surprised. I told her not to be, given Lucy's fascination with the occult.
...
I was too worried about Sam to go to bed that night, so I woke up just before sunrise after a light, fitful sleep on the couch. I blearily stumbled into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing, when I heard a loud thump coming from the front of the house. I waited a few seconds, then I heard it again. It sounded like someone was throwing themselves at our front door. I ran to the door and opened it, and Sam flopped onto our carpet, his hair full of leaves, his hands and face sticky with congealed blood (hopefully from an animal), and without a shred of clothing on his body. Adrenaline having woken me up a lot more than a few moments ago, I dragged him to the couch and draped a blanket over him before yelling for my family. Sandra had left several hours prior, so we were left to our own devices until we could call her and tell her to come back.
So there we were, waiting for Sam to wake up and Sandra to come with his clothes. Almost all of my siblings were exhausted like me and willing to let Sam wake up on his own, but not Lily. Lincoln had made the mistake of putting her on the arm of the couch by Sam's feet, so being the ornery and impatient little tyke that she was, she crawled up Sam's body, grabbed two tiny fistfuls of his chest hair, and yanked.
"YEEEEEOOOOOOWWWW!" Sam yelled and bolted upright, almost sending Lily flying. She giggled as she tumbled onto the blanket covering Sam's...immodesty. Sam remained awake, but immediately flopped back onto the pillow I'd placed under his head.
"Hey. How are you feeling?" I asked softly, brushing the hair away from his forehead with my fingers. He mumbled an incomprehensible response, so I leaned closer to hear him better.
"I told you to run. You didn't run," Sam said, tears starting to form at the corners of his closed eyes. "The Wolf could've killed you. He could've killed the first friend I've ever had." Tears were now streaming down both of his cheeks. "You all need to stay away from me. I'm a monster." Feeling tears prick at my own eyes at his heartbreaking words, I pulled him upright into a firm embrace so that his forehead was resting against my left shoulder. "A monster," he whispered, openly weeping as I stroked his back. The long hair covering his bare skin was surprisingly soft, like the hair on his head. Except for the thin line that went straight down his spine, which was stiff like a dog's hackles. Sam soon calmed down enough to go back to sleep, lightly snoring as I cradled his head in my lap.
...
Sandra came back after a few minutes, and she almost broke down crying herself when I told her what Sam had said to me. It was another hour until Sam woke up, and while waiting, we discussed over breakfast a strategy to convince Sam that he wasn't the one at fault and that nobody here was scared of him. Well, everyone else did that. I spent the time using a damp washcloth to clean the blood off of him (don't worry, the blood wasn't everywhere, so it wasn't like I was giving him a full-fledged sponge bath when I'd known him for less than a month).
Much like the first time we met him, Sam woke up with a groan, rubbing his temples like he had a headache. He sat up and saw all of us sitting around him. Thankfully, he didn't try to flee this time.
"Alright, alright. The jig is up. You all know my deep, dark secret," he said. "Just give me some clothes and I'll be on my way."
"Yeah, not happenin', dude," I said and sat down beside him. "You can get dressed, but you can't leave. Werewolf or not, you're still our friend, and friends stick up for each other."
"B-but the full moon lasts for three days. I'll just transform again tonight, and the night after. I don't want the Wolf to hurt any of you. I could never forgive myself..."
"So you turn into a monster for a few days out of every month. Big deal! I have the same problem!" Lynn exclaimed.
"That's not even remotely the same problem, Junior!" Mom growled and swatted the back of her head.
"Regardless, you've been on your own for long enough. It's time you found people you trust. People who care about you no matter what. People like us," I concluded. Mom was sitting on Sam's other side and patted his shoulder with her left hand, only for him to recoil with a shout of pain, a small wisp of smoke curling from a blackened spot on his skin. Lincoln was the first one to realize what had happened.
"Mom, your wedding ring! It's made of silver!"
The ring that signified Mom's union to Dad that she only very rarely took off was, in fact, plated with one of the few known weaknesses of werewolves. Apparently, it also affected them in their human forms. Mom jolted and slipped the ring from her finger, and Sam sat where he was for a few moments rubbing the burn on his shoulder.
"Can I ask you something, dude?" I spoke to break the awkward silence.
"Sure," said Sam.
"The Wolf could've just started chowing down while everyone was trying to run, but he didn't. Do you know why?" I asked.
"That was me. I managed to wrestle back enough control to stop him from attacking you. I struggle as hard as I can with each transformation, but in the end I always lose. Transforming is painful in so many ways: the excruciating agony of your skeleton and muscles rearranging themselves and each other; the intense itch as every inch of you sprouts fur, and I mean every inch; the mental battle that's impossible to win; and the headache of trying to remember what happened while the Wolf is in command of your body."
Another round of silence as Sam's description of the event sank in.
"Well, we'd better skedaddle so that Sam can get some rest," Sandra suggested. With the blanket wrapped around his waist, Sam took his clothes from his aunt and walked upstairs to our bathroom to get dressed.
