The Beast of Brenton Woods

by Jackson Thomas

  Wendy spun around, gazing out at a huge, light shape in the darkness. The Ford’s tail lights illuminated the beast in a red glow.

  “Fucking go, go, go!” Johnny shouted.

  Wendy was too shocked to scream or cheer. The animal gave up the chase as they pulled farther away. She watched as it disappeared into the forest behind them.

  “That was it, that was the fucking Beast of Brenton Woods”

  Wendy sat back in her seat. She’d broken out in a cold sweat. Goose bumps riddled her flesh. For once, Johnny’s heightened emotional response was legit. They’d just escaped by the hair on their asses from a fucking werewolf.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Arthur Dresden relished nights like this. It had been too long since he walked these woods. There truly was no place like home and his self-imposed exile was over. He felt the power of the moon above. He enjoyed the nights leading up to the full moon when he could slip back and forth between man and beast.

  He’d watched the home of the young woman since returning to Brenton Woods. He’d first seen her four days ago here at the cabin. Watching her move stirred the desire within him like no other before. Well, there was one…but that had been a mistake. This time around, he would do it right. He was ready to try again to build his legacy.

  Sniffing the air, he caught her scent, faint, but still there in the air.

  I will have her.

  The night was young and he was hungry. Arthur gave into his bestial desires, letting the change come again, and tearing through the trees to seek out his next meal.

  …

  Erica Smith wanted to kill her boyfriend, Glen. She’d caught him sending dick pics to some slutty horror girl on Facebook.

  “Would you get back in the car?” he whined.

  “Fuck you, Glen. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. To us.”

  “It didn’t fucking mean anything, come on. She doesn’t even live around here.”

  She stopped in her tracks.

  “That’s not the point, Glen. When we’re together, you don’t flirt with girls online or otherwise, and you definitely don’t send them pictures of your dick. You’re an asshole.”

  He revved the engine and grunted in frustration.

  She didn’t care. They were over. She fought back the tears; he didn’t deserve them. But she could stop the pain from welling up within her. Two years she’d given him. Given him her love and her trust. Glen had been there when she lost her best friend, Jodi. He’d caught her fall. Promised he’d always be there to keep her safe and shield her from life. Now, it felt as if he’d laid down that shield and ran a blade right through her heart.

  “Come on, get in the car and let me drive you home. It’s dark out here. You could get picked up by some pervert.”

  “What would be the difference?” she asked, trying to hold the quaver from her voice.

  “Don’t be stupid, Erica. You could get killed. And I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”

  “Go, Glen…just go.”

  “Are you crying?” he asked.

  He turned down the music blaring form his speakers.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Erica saw a large shape fly across the road ahead. She froze.

  “Are you getting in?” Glen asked.

  “Did you see that?”

  The car rolled to a stop. She tried to find it again in the headlights.

  “See what? Are you fucking with me?” Glen said.

  “No, I saw something run across the road just now.”

  “What, like a deer?” he asked.

  “No…it was bigger. It was like a big…white…shape.”

  She screamed when the monster stepped from the woods two hundred feet away.

  “G-get in the car, Erica. Get in the car right now!”

  She was staring at the wolf. The old legend the boys would tell to freak everyone out on Halloween. It was gazing at her. Its yellow eyes set upon her and nothing else. She was paralyzed.

  “Erica, what the hell are you doing, get in here.”

  He opened the door, stepped beside her, and grabbed her arm.

  A quick roar reached her ears as the beast launched forward and swung an arm that hit her with the weight of a cement block and sent her breathless and sailing into the tall grass at the side of the road.

  She heard Glen’s agony-filled shriek cut the night like a razorblade. She sat up in time to see the beast grab ahold of his head and slam it into the car.

  “Noooo!” she yelled.

  The monster ignored her as it batted Glen around like a cat with a mouse.

  It backhanded him, spattering blood over the Maverick’s pure-colored body.

  “Glen!”

  “Erica…r-r-run…”

  It picked him up by the head, his feet kicking in the air, and roared into his face.

  A jerking motion from the beast cut off Glen’s cries.

  It dropped him to the ground. She heard his head land against the pavement with a wet smack.

  And then it turned its attention to her.

  She shook her head from side-to-side, mouthing “no”.

  As the thing stepped over Glen’s motionless body, it howled up into the night sky.

  A chill raced through her body that somehow freed her paralysis.

  Erica scrambled to her feet and ran into the woods.

  There was just enough moonlight to keep her from running into trees or stumbling over rocks jutting up from the ground. She knew it was in pursuit, but she ran for her life, desperate to see her mother and father again. Loud crashes sounded from behind her, then from her left, then behind her again.

  Keeping the monster at her back, she charged right and pushed hard to return to the road.

  Headlights bloomed in the dark.

  She dug deep and barreled ahead, busting out of the tree line and onto the blacktop. Glen’s Maverick sat down the road.

  “Stop! Please!”

  The approaching car slammed on its brakes and skidded to a halt just before her.

  “Jesus H. Christ, lady, what the fuck are you doing?” the man behind the wheel yelled.

  As she started toward the station wagon, the monster flew from the woods, colliding with the car, and spinning it from the road in a loud crash of metal. The wagon hit the shoulder and stopped.

  The man inside moaned.

  Erica ran past the monster and toward Glen’s still-running car, not sure whether she’d make it or not, but knowing it was her only hope. She hurried through the Maverick’s headlights, crossing to the driver’s-side door.

  The beast howled.

  She climbed behind the wheel and froze at the sight ahead. The white wolf had pulled the whimpering old man from the wagon, craned its ugly head, and buried its snout in the man’s throat. His wielding arms dropped to his side as the monster feasted.

  When it was finished, it let go of the dead man and stood to face her. Blood dripping from its mouth and dressing its fur, the beast waited.

  Erica put the car in DRIVE and pressed the pedal to the floor. Glen’s precious Maverick shot forward.

  “Move or get runover you bastard!” she cried.

  The beast lowered its head and charged to meet her.

  Erica squealed as she jerked the wheel to the left, just missing the collision. She overcorrected. The car fishtailed, spinning three hundred and sixty degrees.

  The monster was gone.

  The car stalled.

  “Shit, shit, shit, come on,” she whined.

  She cranked the ignition as she scanned the road and the shadows, trying to catch a glimpse of the hideous thing. The car came back to life.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” she said as the Maverick’s engine rumbled in the night.

  Pulling away, something heavy crashed atop the roof.

  She floored it.

  A clawed hand swung through the open driver’s-side window gashing her cheek open. Blood, warm, and flowing like a river, ran down her neck and under her blo
use. While she was shaking, feeling as though she were drifting out of her body, the beast slammed its hand down on the center of the windshield, sending a spider web of cracks outward.

  Erica Crawford drove on auto-pilot, a ghost behind the wheel, as her hand drifted to the giant hole in her face. She took no notice as she approached the curve until the tree found the front end of the car and sent her sailing through the broken glass.

  …

  The Beast of Brenton Woods took what was left of the girl and her companion, leaving behind the body of the old man. These two would do well in sating its appetite.

  It had one last pit stop to make before ending the evening. It wanted to leave the boy a message.

  Setting the corpses down by the creek, the white wolf sniffed the air and caught the scent of a deer nearby.

  The delicate woodland creature sensed danger, but had no chance as the wolf crashed down upon its neck and tore out its throat. As they landed in a heap on the forest floor, the beast lashed out rending muscle and bones, tearing the deer to pieces in minutes.

  It walked the trail and brought the remains to the tent in the dim backyard.

  The beast knew this place well. It missed its old friend. There was much history here. The boy deserved to know the truth. If the woman hadn’t enlightened him yet, the beast would.

  Hulking thorough the black forest, its meals in tow, one thought crossed its mind.

  There’s no place like home.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sunlight beamed through the open window and burned like fire on the side of his face. Ben lifted his head from the pillow, and wiped a trail of alien–like goo from his chin. Tyler lay passed out on the floor, curled up beneath the old blue and white afghan Ben’s grandmother made for him three Christmas’ ago.

  Ben plopped back down and rubbed the crust from his eyes. After a night filled with Hot Pockets, Mountain Dew, and Call of Duty he felt like a zombie.

  He grabbed one of his pillows and tossed it down on Tyler’s head causing his friend to groan.

  “Come on, man. Let’s go get some food.”

  His mom left a note that said she’d be gone for most of the day and for him to mow the lawn.

  “Where’s your mom?” Tyler said helping himself to the carton of orange juice in the fridge.

  “Dude, not today.” Tyler had a major crush on his mom, and he always had something to say about it.

  “What? I just worry about her when she’s not around.”

  Ben reached over and gave him a titty twister.

  “Ow, hey.” Tyler jerked away from him, spilling orange juice to the floor.

  “Now clean that up, jerk.” Ben said.

  Tyler set the juice on the counter, rubbing his chest like he was really wounded. Ben watched him glance at the note from his mom.

  “Oh, man. Lawn mowing duty.”

  “Yeah,” he said, grabbing a frying pan from beneath the counter and placing it on the stove. “Could be worse. She wants me to paint the house this summer. Says it will teach me something.”

  “What? How to waste your summer?”

  “Right?”

  They cracked up laughing.

  Ben opened the pantry and grabbed a can of Corned Beef Hash. “Hey, start some toast.” He set the hash down on the counter and returned to the fridge for eggs.

  “Dude,” Tyler said as he plopped the bread in the toaster. “I had a dream last night.”

  “Oh no, I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “Not about your mom, about… the beast.”

  “Yeah, what was it?”

  “I don’t really remember. I was just sleeping in the tent, but you were in the house. I woke up freezing, like middle of January freezing, and when I stepped out of the tent, I could see my breath, and there was blood all over the snow…”

  “Yeah…”

  “And the monster, it was holding my little sister’s head.”

  “Shit. That’s a terrible dream.”

  Silence settled in between them.

  “Forget about it. I don’t know why I told you.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t have any dreams like that…” Ben saw the yellow eyes, the white hulk rising in the dark. “I mean, I’m the one that heard it, the one that saw it.”

  They both looked toward the door. It was out there. Tyler believed him. He always knew when Ben was bullshitting or when he was telling the truth,

  “Well,” Tyler said. “You said your dad saw it when he was a kid, right? So, I say we don’t go back out in the woods for a while, maybe it will go away again.”

  Ben had a bad feeling in his stomach, like the day Sheriff Decker showed up to tell them about his father. Not going in the woods would suck, but seeing those eyes again…

  He went back to cracking the eggs into the pan, and said. “At least we won’t have to worry about ticks.” When he looked back, Tyler had wandered over to the door and was staring out.

  “A couple weeks won’t kill us, right?” Ben said.

  “I hope not. Say, do you mind if I hang around here while you mow the lawn?”

  Ben could tell his friend didn’t want to walk home. He didn’t blame him. He wasn’t sure if it was a werewolf or something else, or whether the moon had to be out or full or what for it to appear. What if it could be out there in the sun? Or every night?

  “You can chill here. I’ll see if my mom will give you a ride home later. That should be a treat for ya.”

  Tyler turned and smiled.

  “Breakfast and a ride home with your mom? Did I ever tell you you’re my hero?”

  “Shut up,” Ben said, tossing an eggshell across the room. Tyler ducked, letting it crash against the door.

  “Pick that up, or I’m eating your portion.”

  “One…quarter…portion,” Tyler said.

  “Don’t Star Wars me, just pick it up.”

  After eating, Ben left Tyler parked on the sofa surfing Netflix while he went out to the garage to check that the mower had enough gas. Primed and ready, he decided to start with the backyard. He pushed the mower around the house and stared into the trees just beyond the tent. There was no wind, just crazy heat and humidity, yet he thought he’d seen the branches sway.

  He waited, sweating and thinking. Thinking about things that should not be. Monsters in the woods, werewolves in the night, dangerous creatures waiting to snatch you up and tear you apart.

  He shook the horror fantasy off and took a deep breath.

  It wasn’t until he walked over to the tent that the fear slithered back into his veins like thick, cold snakes.

  He could hear the buzzing of the flies before he saw the reason for their gathering.

  The door flaps were open and there was a bloody carcass where he usually slept.

  …..

  Ben and Tyler watched in shock and awe as Deputy Kathy Wilcox leaned into the tent of death. She came back out waving off a cluster of flies. She said something into the com on her shoulder before starting their way.

  She was the most beautiful woman Ben had ever seen. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail beneath her Grantham County Sheriff’s Department ball cap, her tightly packaged body snug and pressing against the fabric of her brown uniform, and her face, big, blue eyes set among sharp, perfect angles that seemed to be carved by the Gods themselves. He ‘d never seen her out of uniform, but he could only imagine she was a stunner.

  “You say you saw an animal out here last night?” she said.

  “Ah, yeah. We were out by the creek, and heading back here when I heard it.”

  She nodded and he guessed it was for him to continue.

  “Do you know what kind of animal it was? A coyote? Something bigger maybe?”

  Even her lovely gaze couldn’t keep the awfulness of the monster’s eyes from killing any part of enjoyment he was having talking to her. Yellow, ugly, hungry…

  “Mr. Cutter?”

  He snapped out of it when Tyler elbowed him in the r
ibs.

  “Oh, ah, well, it was definitely bigger than any coyote I’ve ever seen.”

  “Just tell her,” Tyler said.

  “Well, Deputy,” Ben said, hanging his head rubbing his hands together before looking up. “It’s gonna sound dumb, but…”

  “Yes?”

  “I think it was a werewolf.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kathy Wilcox wasn’t about to tell Sheriff Decker what the Cutter kid thought he saw. She’d sound just as loony as the boy. But something big and mean had ripped the deer in that tent up pretty damn good. Why the carcass had been dragged inside the tent was another question, but one she wasn’t qualified to answer. She couldn’t even tell if it had been killed then brought in or if it died while being feasted upon in the tent. What she did know was that it was brutal and it was in the Cutters’ backyard. Too close for comfort.

  She crossed the Travis town line and pulled into the station parking lot.

  Sheriff Decker’s SUV sat in its usual spot.

  “Hey Kathy,” Deputy Brannigan said. He sat at his desk reading a copy of Mad Magazine. She didn’t even realize they still published the goofy thing.

  “Hey, Lloyd. Where’s the sheriff?”

  Lloyd dropped the magazine to his desk and wiped at the powder from his mustache. The remains of a Jelly doughnut set next to his Styrofoam cup. “He’s heading out to that sheriff’s meeting down in Manchester, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s this weekend? He must’ve taken that old car of his, huh?”

  “Yep. You shoulda seen how angry he was. He was slamming things around and muttering to himself. It was great.”

  She sat behind her desk across from Lloyd. There was a note from the sheriff:

  Wilcox,

  I don’t care what Brannigan or Rutherford say, you’re my second in command while I’m held captive at this bullshit affair.

  Keep them boys in line and watch over things for me.

  Call me on my cell if you need ANYTHING. I’ll use any excuse to get out of this gathering of the minds…. or mindless.