60 - Werewolf Skin

by R. L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

  I’ve got to snap a picture. Do it now, Alex! I ordered myself.

  But my hands shook so badly, I wasn’t sure I could hold the camera steady enough.

  Do it! Do it!

  I raised the viewfinder to my eye. I stood up a little higher to see over the top of the bush.

  “Ohhh.” As I raised myself, a sharp twig scraped the side of my face.

  And I dropped the camera!

  It landed on the grass with a THUD.

  The two wolf creatures turned.

  And saw me!

  23

  I sank to the ground. Pressed myself flat on my stomach.

  My chest heaved. I breathed through my mouth, struggling to keep perfectly still, perfectly silent.

  Did they see me? Did they?

  I raised my head enough to peer out at them beneath the bottom branch of the bush.

  They had their fur-covered snouts raised. They sniffed the air.

  Did they smell me? Did they know I was hiding down here?

  Were they about to leap into the bush and rip me apart with those long, silvery claws?

  I held my breath, squinting across the grass at them.

  They sniffed some more, grunting softly.

  Then they turned away. Dropped to all fours. And loped off, heading to the woods.

  I waited until I could no longer hear the soft thud of their paws or their low growls and grunts. Then I slid forward on my stomach, reached out, and grabbed my camera.

  My camera!

  I hadn’t snapped any photos. Not a single shot.

  I climbed shakily to my feet and rubbed the wet dew from the lens. Then I raised my eyes to the woods.

  I have to follow them, I decided.

  I have to take some photos. This is the chance of a lifetime!

  If I can take the first-ever shots of actual werewolves, I’ll be famous! I pictured myself in newspapers and on magazine covers. I imagined my photos of the Marlings on display in fancy photo galleries.

  And I thought of how proud of me Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta would be.

  That thought sent a chill down my back. Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta—they were working in the woods right now. Busy photographing animals of the night.

  Did they know that two werewolves were on the loose? Did they know that two werewolves were prowling the woods, searching for victims?

  They’re not safe out there, I realized.

  Of course, following the werewolves into the woods was crazy—and dangerous. But now I had two reasons to chase after them.

  I had to snap some pictures—and warn my aunt and uncle.

  My eyes on the woods, I jammed the camera into the case and slung it over my shoulder. Then I began trotting across the backyard toward the trees, following the fresh paw prints in the frosty grass.

  I ducked into the trees and followed the curving path. Moonlight trickled through the treetop leaves, making eerie, shifting patterns on the ground.

  I didn’t have to go far to catch up with the two werewolves. Just past the bent, old-man tree, I heard an animal grunt. And then a shrill cry of attack.

  I stopped—and peered through a low evergreen shrub. Mouths gaping open, claws raised, the two wolf creatures leaped.

  They’ve caught someone! I realized, frozen in horror.

  Who is it? My aunt? My uncle?

  24

  The two werewolves wrestled with their prey.

  I heard a shrill bleat of pain. Then I saw four hooves shoot up in the air.

  Not a human, I realized, squinting into the dim light. They’ve trapped a deer. A baby deer.

  They’re going to kill it.

  They’re going to tear it to shreds.

  What can I do? I asked myself. How can I save it?

  I didn’t think. I was too terrified to think clearly.

  I tossed back my head. And I let out a loud wolf howl.

  My cry echoed off the trees.

  The snarling werewolves stopped their attack. They raised their heads.

  They turned toward my cry.

  Just long enough for the fawn to scramble to its feet. It shook itself—like a dog after a bath—and took off into the trees.

  The werewolves sniffed the air furiously. They didn’t seem to notice that the fawn had escaped. Their eyes glowed red in the pale moonlight. They turned, uttering low, angry growls. Lowered their heads. And came charging at me.

  25

  I staggered back.

  Too frightened to move.

  No time to run.

  The ground seemed to shake under the thunder of the wolves’ paws.

  I opened my mouth to scream—but no sound came out.

  The wolves’ jaws snapped. Their red eyes glowed as if on fire.

  I raised my arms in front of me, as if to shield myself.

  Prepared for the attack.

  And the wolves turned away. Turned sharply to the right, running together.

  A scrawny brown rabbit scrambled over the path.

  The wolves had turned away from me to chase the rabbit!

  Snarling furiously, they lowered their heads—and caught the rabbit easily.

  The little creature didn’t put up much of a fight.

  One wolf snapped its neck. The other bit hungrily into its belly.

  Breathing hard, I swung my camera case around. And pulled the camera out with a quick jerk.

  My hand trembled as I raised the viewfinder to my eye. But I steadied the camera with both hands.

  And clicked off a shot.

  And then another.

  I snapped a shot of the wolves tugging the rabbit apart. And another shot of the two of them eating side by side.

  When the wolves finished, nothing remained of the rabbit. Licking their teeth, they turned and loped off into the trees.

  Holding my camera in front of me with both hands, I followed after them.

  I guess I was in some kind of shock. I know I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  I was barely thinking at all!

  I had nearly been caught by the two werewolves. They would have finished me the way they’d finished that poor rabbit.

  But I knew I had to follow them. I had to stay in the woods.

  I had to warn my aunt and uncle. I had to find them and tell them they were wrong about the Marlings. That Hannah told the truth.

  I had to let them know the danger they were in.

  And I had to take more photographs.

  I’d been through such a horrible scare. My heart pounded, and my arms and legs felt all trembly and weak. I didn’t feel like me. I felt as if I were outside myself, watching myself.

  But I knew I couldn’t run back to the house. Not until my aunt and uncle were safe.

  I kept pretty far behind the creatures, far enough that I could slip behind a tree or bush if one of them glanced back. And I kept my camera raised, ready to snap off shots.

  They loped slowly to the creek. I watched them lower their heads and noisily lap up water.

  They didn’t look at all human now. Their bodies had become wolf bodies. I couldn’t see anything human in their faces. Their glowing eyes were animal eyes.

  They took a long drink from the creek, washing down their dinner, I guess. I steadied my camera and clicked off several shots.

  I wished Hannah had come with me. I wanted someone else to be there with me, to see what I was seeing.

  I couldn’t wait to get back and tell her that she was right about the Marlings. That they really were werewolves.

  The two wolf creatures suddenly raised their heads from the water, turned, and sniffed the air.

  Did they smell me? Or some other prey?

  I slid behind a fat tree trunk and held my breath.

  When I carefully peered out, they were loping along the creek shore. I waited until they had gone a short distance, then I crept out and followed them.

  I followed the two werewolves all night. I finished one roll of film, then popped in another. I shot them rising up on their f
urry hind legs and howling at the moon. And I clicked off several more horrifying shots of them devouring small animals.

  And I searched for my aunt and uncle. Desperate to warn them, to tell them what I had learned.

  As I trailed behind the creatures—so frightened and excited—I completely lost track of time. It was as if I were walking through a dream. None of it seemed real.

  Finally, a red crack of sunlight appeared along the ground. To my shock, it was nearly daybreak.

  The werewolves moved slowly now. Their loping trot had become a stiff-legged walk.

  As they stepped out of the trees into their backyard, they rose up onto their hind legs. They staggered awkwardly to the back of their house.

  I stayed by the trees, afraid to go too close. The sky was brightening as the sun made its way higher. If the wolf creatures turned around, they could see me easily.

  I raised my camera. I had only a few shots left.

  The two werewolves staggered on two legs to the side of their house. They stretched their furry forearms and raised their faces to the brightening sun.

  “Oh!” I couldn’t help it. I uttered a shocked cry as they began to shed their skins.

  The fur appeared to peel back.

  The claws slid out of view. And the fur pulled back, revealing their human hands.

  As I gaped in amazement, the black wolf fur peeled off their arms and legs, then slid off their bodies.

  They had their backs to me.

  The fur skins settled into capes again. The two humans reached up and pulled off the heavy capes.

  I’m going to see the Marlings for the first time! I realized.

  They lowered the wolf skin capes to the ground.

  They turned slowly.

  And I saw their faces.

  26

  As the morning sunlight washed over their faces, I nearly cried out—in horror and disbelief.

  Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta stretched, brushed back their silvery hair, then bent to pick up their wolf skins.

  My aunt and uncle—they were the werewolves!

  Uncle Colin raised his eyes to the woods. I fell back behind a tree. Did he see me?

  No.

  My whole body trembled. I wanted to cry out: “No! No! This can’t be happening!”

  But I pressed myself against the tree and kept my jaws clamped tight. I couldn’t let them see me. I couldn’t let them know that I knew the truth.

  The smooth tree trunk felt cool against my forehead. I had to think. I had to make a plan.

  What should I do? I knew I couldn’t stay with them any longer. I couldn’t live in a house with two werewolves.

  But where could I go? Who would help me?

  Who would believe me?

  I watched my aunt and uncle fold up their wolf skins. Then Uncle Colin helped Aunt Marta climb into the Marlings’ bedroom window. Once she was inside, he followed her in.

  “The Marlings!” I murmured to myself. Were they okay in there? Or did my aunt and uncle do something terrible to them?

  A few minutes later, Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta climbed back out of the window. Then they scurried across the driveway, into their own house.

  I clung to the tree trunk for a while, watching the two houses. Thinking hard.

  Were the Marlings asleep in their house? Did they know that the two werewolves were in there? Were the Marlings werewolves too?

  I wanted to run away. To make my way to the street and just keep running until I was miles and miles away.

  But I had to find out about the Marlings. I couldn’t leave without finding out the truth about them.

  So I watched the two houses for a while longer. No sign of anyone moving about.

  I pushed myself away from the tree and quickly made my way through the Marlings’ overgrown backyard.

  I ducked behind bushes and kept my eyes on my aunt and uncle’s house. The blinds on their bedroom windows were shut.

  Holding my breath, I darted to the Marlings’ bedroom window. I grabbed the windowsill and peered inside. Dark. I couldn’t see anything.

  “Here goes,” I murmured softly. “Good luck, Alex.”

  I lifted myself up onto the sill, then lowered my legs into the room. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.

  And then what I saw shocked me nearly as much as learning that my aunt and uncle were werewolves.

  I saw nothing.

  The bedroom was completely bare. Not a stick of furniture. No artwork or mirrors on the wall. No carpet over the dust-covered floorboards.

  Turning to the bedroom door, I spotted the two wolf skins. They were neatly folded and piled side by side in front of the closet.

  Taking a deep breath, I moved cautiously to the open doorway. I poked my head out into the hall. Also unlit and bare.

  “Anyone home?” I choked out in a tiny voice. “Hello? Anyone home?”

  Silence.

  I crept down the hall toward the front of the house. I peered into each room.

  They were all bare and empty, covered with a thick layer of dust.

  I stepped into the middle of the living room. No furniture. No lights. No sign that anyone had lived here in years!

  “Oh, wow!” I cried out as I realized the truth. My voice echoed off the bare walls.

  No one lives here, I told myself. There are no Marlings!

  My aunt and uncle had made them up. They used this house to hide their wolf skins. They’d made up the Marlings to keep people out of the house.

  No Marlings. No Marlings. No Marlings.

  It was all a lie!

  I have to warn Hannah, I decided. No one is safe around here.

  I pictured my aunt and uncle devouring that helpless little rabbit last night. I pictured them wrestling with that baby deer.

  I have to tell Hannah and her family, I decided. And then we have to run away from here—as far as we can.

  I turned and made my way quickly through the empty house. Then I lowered myself out the bedroom window into the backyard.

  The morning sun was still a red ball, low over the treetops. The early dew glistened over the grass.

  “Hannah, I hope you’re awake,” I murmured. “If not, I’ll have to wake you up.”

  I turned away from the Marlings’ window and began to run across the back toward Hannah’s house.

  I went about six or seven steps. Then I stopped with a gasp as Aunt Marta’s voice rang out behind me. “Alex—what on earth are you doing out there?”

  27

  I spun around. My knees nearly collapsed. The ground tilted up, then down.

  Aunt Marta stood in the kitchen doorway. “Alex—why are you up so early? It’s Saturday morning.” She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

  “I—well…” I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t speak!

  “Where are you going in such a hurry?” my aunt demanded. I saw Uncle Colin standing behind her in the kitchen.

  “To… Hannah’s,” I managed to reply. “To talk about… uh… our costumes for trick-or-treating tonight.”

  I watched her face. Did she believe me?

  I didn’t think so.

  “It’s too early to be running over to Hannah’s,” she scolded. She motioned for me to come inside. “Come in, Alex. Come get some breakfast first.”

  I hesitated. My mind whirred.

  Should I make a run for it? Run to the street and keep going?

  How far would I get before they caught me? My aunt and uncle were both werewolves. If they caught me—what would they do to me? Would I be their breakfast?

  No. I decided not to run. Not just yet, anyway. Not until I had a chance to talk to Hannah.

  I felt Aunt Marta’s eyes on me as I made my way slowly into the house. Uncle Colin muttered good morning. He stared hard at me too. “Early start, huh?” he asked softly.

  I nodded and took my place at the breakfast table.

  “Marta and I worked all night,” Uncle Colin reported. He yawned. “We took some p
retty good shots.”

  That’s a lie! I wanted to shout. I followed you. I saw what you did. I know what you are!

  But I didn’t say anything. Just stared down at my cereal bowl.

  I’m having breakfast with two werewolves! I thought, feeling my stomach churn. My aunt and uncle run through the woods at night, murdering and ripping animals apart.

  I can’t sit here another minute! I told myself. I started to get up.

  But I felt Uncle Colin’s hand on my shoulder. “Relax, Alex. Have a nice breakfast,” he said softly.

  “But, I—” I didn’t know what to say. I was too terrified to eat. I wanted him to take his hand off me. It was making my whole body tremble.

  “It’s Halloween,” Uncle Colin said. “You’ll be out late tonight.”

  “Have a good breakfast,” Aunt Marta chimed in.

  They watched me as I choked down my cornflakes. They didn’t smile. They were studying me coldly.

  They know that I followed them, I decided. They know that I know their secret.

  They’re not going to let me get away.

  “Uh… I have to go to Hannah’s now,” I said, struggling to sound calm and cheerful. I slid my chair back and started to stand up.

  But I felt Uncle Colin’s hand grip my shoulder again. He grasped me tightly and held on.

  “Alex, come with me,” he ordered.

  28

  He kept his hand clamped tightly on my shoulder as he led me to the back of the garage. He walked quickly and didn’t say a word.

  I wondered if I could break out of his grip and make a run for it. How far would I get?

  He let go of my shoulder. What did he plan to do?

  “I’m sorry I followed you,” I said in a choked whisper. “I—I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”

  He hadn’t heard me. He had moved to the corner of the garage and picked up a long-handled tool.

  He shoved it toward me. “I need your help this morning,” he said. “There’s a lot of yard work to be done.”

  I swallowed. “Yard work?”