A Christmas Moon
Full Moon tonight, the last of 2021. I have to admit I almost didn't make it, it's been dry season in the land of my creative juice. But the Daily Prompt App saved me! Below is the last werewolf story of this year to celebrate the last Full Moon. Enjoy and don't forget to leave your comments and suggestions. Happy howling!
Blood coursed through my veins, alive, throbbing. I could hardly breathe, something was pressing my throat like heavy jaws, but I felt good. I had a glimpse of a shining Christmas tree in the middle of the forest, with red lights reflecting on the snow blanket underneath me. Only those weren’t really lights. They were drops of blood. What an exquisite dream. I should be petrified and fighting to wake up but the sensation was warm and peaceful.
I finally woke up lying on my bed. Everything was as usual. I rubbed my eyes and got up. Mom had been awake for hours now. She smiled at me as I walked in and the scent of her delicious orange cake invaded my nostrils.
‘Wow, it smells better than ever, mom. Did you add something different this time?’ I asked as I took a peek at the dough baking in the oven.
‘Not really, Will, same ingredients as usual. It will be ready in ten minutes. Help yourself with some coffee,’ she replied, placing the kettle on the table.
I was suddenly terribly hungry. So hungry I didn’t even notice my hands cutting a piece of sausage and taking it to my mouth before mom stared at me in disbelief.
‘I thought you were vegetarian, Will.’
I swallowed the piece in a mix of surprise and disgust. I had been a vegetarian for ten years but something made me gobble that sausage.
‘Yeah... well... I don’t know... I am very hungry...’ I mumbled, embarrassed.
Thank goodness she just dismissed it. And I got ready to go to work.
______
We were approaching Christmas Eve too quickly for my enjoyment. I had never liked Christmas and this time, for some reason, lights shone brighter. Carols thundered in my head and not a day would go by that I didn’t have a migraine. Plus, I never enjoyed having my family for Christmas. My sister Janice and her husband always joined us and Derek was insufferable. He loved bragging about how well he was in life, his fancy house, his top-of-the-range Mercedes and all that jazz, while he disdainfully looked at me. I was just an accountant in the eyes of the mighty Derek Sanders. This time they would bring their first child, a one year old girl called Alison. Neither mom nor I had met her yet but not even that was enough to spark the faintest Christmas spirit in me.
I suspected I was getting sick too. I was eating well, very well actually. But my skin looked pale and, for some weird reason my beard was growing thicker. I only realised when mom called my attention.
‘My gosh, Will, didn’t you shave this morning?’ she asked, pouring some water in her cup of tea just after I walked in.
‘I did...’
I didn’t finish my sentence. I took my hand instinctively to my face only to feel a harsh rug of hirsute hairs all the way down to my neck.
‘I haven’t been feeling well lately, mom. I will book with the doctor soon.’
‘You are always grumpy around Christmas,’ she said, taking a sip from her cup. ‘You and Derek should let bygones be bygones.’
I didn’t reply and rushed to the toilet. I was horrified with my reflection on the mirror. Even if I had not shaved for a couple of days, my beard could never have grown that much. That’s when I noticed a small bump on the right side. Actually more like a scar. I thought of my dream as I touched what looked like a flesh worm on my skin.
I went for blood tests the following day but the doctor saw nothing abnormal. Yet I looked scrawnier than ever, my eyes seemed to be sinking under two dark holes. I could be taking paracetamol the whole day but the migraines wouldn’t go away.
On Christmas Eve I didn’t even get ready to greet my sister and her detestable husband. But I heard them too well, as if they were in my bedroom. Not even the pillow on my head would stifle the sound.
‘William isn’t feeling well. He’s been sick for a few days but the doctor doesn’t know what it is,’ mom said after a tacky Awwww, look at little Ally, isn’t she adorable? Cootchi cootchi cootchi...
‘Haha, his disease is called Derek-phobia,’ my detestable in-law said, making Janice giggle.
Clearly none of them was aware that I could hear every single word.
I was puzzled. Was I becoming some kind of superhero? It couldn’t be. Not with these ghostly looks. I shivered under my blankets and let a moan out. It came out more like a whine. I heard mom steps coming towards my room.
‘Will, can I come in? You should at least greet your family,’ she said with three knocks.
‘No, mom, leave me alone.’
I didn’t mean to be this rude. And I definitely didn’t mean my voice to sound that hoarse, more like an animal growling than my own voice. I thought of my dream again. I saw the Christmas tree dripping bloodied decorations. The full moon shining in the dark sky. A baby cried. My migraine worsened. I couldn’t take it anymore, it was going to explode for sure.
People screamed, no words at all, just frightened screams joining the sound of glass breaking and objects dropping on the floor. There was rage in the air, something evil spreading like venomous gas.
Then I fell asleep.
_______
‘William Jones, you are under arrest for murder.’
I was hardly awake but saw the shades of two men next to me. One handcuffed me.
‘What is going on?’ I asked, realising my voice was back to normal.
‘That is what we will be asking you at the station.’
I shook my head and they pushed me out of bed.
I heard a baby crying again. Alison. But she wasn’t on my sister’s lap. She was on my next door neighbour’s lap. Mrs Peterson was rocking her, her cold eyes staring at me.
My soul froze as my eyes observed the chaos around. The whole ground was covered with bloodied shattered glass, everywhere there were chunks of wood – they looked bitten! – wall paper ripped off… But that wasn’t the worst. I dropped on my knees, my head spinning and tears bursting from my eyes. Had it been me? No, no. There had to be an explanation for this.
Mom, Janice and Derek... their gored bodies were lying on the floor, their throats covered with thickened, half dry blood, shock still dancing macabrely in their eyes.
‘Mrs Peterson heard something strange and called us. Unfortunately we were too late to stop the carnage. We arrived only to see a beast running into the woods outside. But we’ve been around. Today we found you sleeping. How do you explain what happened here, William Jones?’
I didn’t. Or rather, I couldn’t. Obviously it had been me but I couldn’t remember, I couldn’t even think why I would have done it. Who or what had I become, for goodness sake?
I looked at Mrs Peterson as if begging for help and a moan came out of my throat.
‘It was you, William Jones,’ she accused me while rocking Alison. ‘I saw your face behind the beast.’
__________
Enjoyed this story? Check out come of my other Werewolf Stories, which
I posted every Full Moon this year:
Officer Brooks' Creepy Blue Eyes
Midnight Shift at the Zoology Museum
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