You know almost everything about them. You know the cycle of the moon. You know what causes it to wax and wane, and how as it grows fuller, they grow hairier and hungrier. You know how bestial ebbs the nature of humanity under the influence of the wolf.
You know that it will survive any number of blows to the head or shots to the heart. You know it will take silver to repel them. You know that so long as they smell you, they will seek another way into your house, behind your back, to your neck when your eyes close.
You know you are safe, because you know they are just stories.
You’re only ignorant of one thing: they are real. The there is one outside right now. That he is clawing his arms as dusk creeps over the land. That your flesh is the only thing that will still his belly.
You’re only ignorant of one thing: he knows you think he isn’t real. And when the moon shows tonight, he’ll rejoice about that. He’ll lament it in the morning as he washes your remains from his fingernails.
I'm glad I'm reading this in the morning instead of at night. I think your matter-of-fact tone gives it a haunting creepiness.
ReplyDeleteLove the very concept of this, and that last paragraph is deadly (pardon the pun).
ReplyDeleteBrrrrrr!
ReplyDeleteWhy does the werewolf always have to be a boy? #feministface
ReplyDeleteSomewhat disappointed the werewolf wasn't sad, which was what I expected from the title. LOL
ReplyDeleteWell it's a bloody good job that I just got up then isn't it! Now I have time to prepare - do you think he'll accept a tin of PAL instead of me - it's meaty goodness, so it says on the tin....
ReplyDeleteOh my gods, I just got the multiple meanings in the title! This one has so many layers I can't even count them! So damn CLEVER.
ReplyDelete