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The night of a full moon can be tough for a teenage werewolf |
Johnny. Johnny sat on the bench at the top of the hill overlooking the small town he had lived in all his life. It had been a happy town, once. Children had played in the street, parents had gossiped over fences, half the town had gathered to watch football in the local bar, cheering on their favourite teams. Now though, it was a ghost town. People shut themselves away after six oâclock, the sheriff insisted on it. It was fall and the evenings were drawing in sooner. Johnny was violating curfew, it was almost seven, but he couldnât go home. He was the reason they locked themselves away at night, only they didnât know that. It had all started with the strange old man. He came to town searching out the teenagers' hangouts, following them around, putting an already terrified town on edge. Finally, he had singled Johnny out from the others. Following Johnny home after a school football match he had tried to tell him, warn him. Johnny had refused to listen. Believing him to be a crazy old man, he had ignored him, had denied all knowledge of the things he claimed until the next full moon. Johnny soon started believing, when they found the old man dead. So far, there had been three murders, roughly once a month. After the third murder Johnny had checked his calendar, all three had happened on the full moon. He looked up at the darkening sky, in another hour or so the moon would rise, the full moon, and then he would change, because Johnny was a werewolf. Johnnyâs life had slowly declined over the past few months. Before, he had been the pride of the town. A straight âAâ student, he had the highest GPA in the schoolâs history, not to mention being the best skipper the football team could wish for. Then he turned sixteen, and everything changed. Johnny had wished countless times for his old life back but it wasnât to be. He was doomed to this now, as surely as he had been a hero before. Doomed to kill and doomed to mourn; doomed to the knowledge that he would kill again. He stared down the hill, a shadow loomed on the horizon; it was the sheriff. Johnny sighed, the sheriff was sure to send him home, but he knew he couldnât do that; heâd be putting his entire family at risk. As the sheriff approached, Johnny could see he was scowling. âJohnny? What are you doing up here? Itâs way past curfew, you should get on home, itâs dangerous out here at night. Come on, Iâll drive you home.â The sheriff turned and headed down the hill, expecting him to follow. Johnny lingered, he knew if he didnât go the sheriff would remain, and Johnny would kill him. However, if he let the sheriff take him home he was putting his entire family at risk. He stared after the sheriff, agonizing over the decision. But what if he gave himself up as the killer? The whole town would be saved! âSheriff, wait!â Johnny called, running after him. âSheriff, could you take me to the station? I need to talk to you.â âWhatâs wrong, Johnny? Want to confess to the murders?â The sheriff let out a raucous laugh. Johnny said nothing, the sheriff didnât realise just how dangerously right he was. âHow many more times, Johnny? It couldnât possibly have been you. I know youâre strong kid, heck, Iâve seen you on that football pitch, but these murders; you just arenât strong enough. Iâve seen the bodies, Johnny. Itâs like the person has some kind of super human strength, these people have been ripped apart, not hacked, ripped.â Johnny paced the small jail room, heâd been arguing with the sheriff for fifteen minutes now. âIâm telling you, Sheriff, I did it, I killed those people, and Iâm gonna do it again! Youâre in danger, Sheriff. You gotta lock me up or Iâll change, Iâll change and Iâll kill you!â The Sheriff sighed, âI know you and your friends wanna be able to stay out late like you used to, Johnny, but confessing to murders I know you didnât do? Itâs just ridiculous! Youâre not thinking of the implications of what youâre saying. I expect more from you, Johnny, the whole town does.â The sheriff paused, trying to keep hold of his patience. âWhatâs happening to you, Johnny? I was talking to the coach just the other day, he says youâve not been on form, and if your grades drop any lower heâll have to leave you off the team altogether, and now this? Saying youâre the killer isnât going to make things any better, Johnny, itâll just make things ten times worse.â âSheriff, I did it! I killed them! Iâm a werewolf. Please, if you donât believe me then just give me the keys, Iâll lock myself in and you can see for yourself.â Johnny snatched the keys from the desk and strode into the small, single cell. As he turned the key, he could feel the first stages of his transformation beginning. He threw the keys away, just in time, as he fell to the floor, writhing in agony. Johnnyâs youthful good looks contorted, slowly twisting into the face of a wolf, fangs dripping with saliva the wolf turned to face the sheriff. âJohnny, what? I⌠Johnny, donât, please, Johnny, Iâm sorry I didnât believe you, it⌠itâs not what happens in a town like this. No! Johnny! No!â The sheriff watched, horrified by the scene unfolding before him. The bars of the cell groaned as the wolf tore his way out. Screaming, the sheriff reached for his gun as the wolf pushed through the bars. The sheriff aimed his gun, his hands shaking uncontrollably as the creature stalked across the floor, growling. âJohnny, please, donât make me do this. I donât wanna shoot you, but I will if I have to.â The wolf pounced, lunging at his jugular, the Sheriff fell to the floor as the full weight of the wolf hit him; his gun lay, forgotten and useless, as the wolf ripped at his flesh. As the people of the town came running, nervous and afraid, the Sheriffâs body lay lifeless on the floor, his mouth wide in a silent scream, his dead eyes open in terror. Unseen, the wolf shrank away, back up the hill. The next morning Johnny woke, curled up like an animal, at the top of the hill. The memory of the night before hit him suddenly. He was an animal. Johnny groaned; heâd really done it this time. As he walked down the hill he could see a group of people looking around, someone noticed him and shouted, as everyone looked up Johnny saw his parents, they began running up the hill, calling his name. âJohnny! Thank God youâre okay, we were worried sick!â Johnnyâs mother grabbed her son and hugged him tight. âSorry⌠I⌠IâŚâ Johnny didnât know what to say. âNever mind, weâre just glad youâre alright. Johnny, the sheriff was killed last night, just like the others. We all ran but we didnât get there on time. He was already dead when we got there and the killer was already gone.â âMom, Iâve got something to tell you, the sheriff, he wasâŚâ âJohnny, I know, itâs very sad, he was a good man. But he didnât die in vain, the city police department have finally taken an interest, there are a few of them here already investigating the murders, and I think even someone from the FBI!â She finished, whispering confidentially. âThey wonât be able to help, I know what did it, Mom; it was a werewolf.â âWerewolf? Johnny, donât say such things, people are afraid and upset, you donât want them getting hysterical. What has gotten into you?â Johnny shrugged, giving up. His mother, nobody, would ever believe him without proof. He let his mother lead him away. Next month, he would just have to wait until next month, another full moon and yet another murder. Maybe one of the city detectives would discover the connections. Johnny could only hope. |