by Heather Beck
Anastasia couldn’t help but snort. “Tell Kate this is her most pathetic ploy yet. Does she really think she can scare me back to Toronto with some fairy tale?”
“Kate doesn’t even talk to us,” the girl said slowly, casting Anastasia an odd look.
“Did you see the werewolf?” the other girl pried. “You can tell us the truth – we believe.”
“I was there, too,” Marissa hurried to speak up. “It happened so fast that I can’t be certain of what I saw. It was something wild, though, and ferocious. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”
“Seriously?” Anastasia asked Marissa. “Don’t tell me you believe in werewolves.”
Shrugging, Marissa looked at the floor. “I don’t know what to think, but a lot of people have been speculating on what could’ve attacked Chloe and Pete, and their conclusions are all the same. I don’t want to dwell on it, though – too many bad memories.”
“You should have told me what people were saying,” Anastasia said to Marissa in an annoyed tone.
Marissa looked sheepish. “Sorry, Anastasia. I didn’t want to upset you, and I guess I was kind of preoccupied with my own problems.”
“Tell everyone the truth, Frost,” Anastasia said, turning to face him. She was surprised to find him looking nervous and even somewhat pale. “Frost, are you feeling alright?”
“What?” Frost asked, seemingly snapping out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He then directed his attention toward the two girls who were still standing near their table. “I saw the animal that attacked Chloe, and it was a cougar – there’s absolutely no doubt about that.”
“I’m not going anywhere near those woods for a very long time,” one of the girls said, looking unconvinced by Frost’s explanation.
“Me either,” her friend nodded in agreement.
Without saying another word, the two girls walked away, leaving behind an unsettling atmosphere and many unanswered questions. However, Anastasia was more concerned about Frost. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts yet again, and he was clearly worrying about something.
“What’s wrong?” Anastasia asked him gently.
“Nothing,” Frost responded abruptly, while turning an undue amount of attention toward finishing his lunch.
Narrowing her eyes, Anastasia studied him. It was evident that he was hiding something, but what could it be? She knew that Frost loved Cedar Falls Woods, so maybe he was concerned that it would be negatively impacted by all this werewolf rigmarole. Yet, if that was the case, why couldn’t he be honest? This was a prime example of how Frost’s behavior sometimes didn’t make sense, at least to Anastasia.
“I know you guys don’t believe in werewolves,” Marissa said, breaking the silence, “but please be careful anyway. You just never know.”
Despite her very best efforts to stay rational, Anastasia shivered slightly. She now listened to her classmate’s whisperings, discovering that it revolved around the attacks on Chloe and Pete and especially the werewolf. It seemed like everyone had a theory, supported by some freaky evidence that they vowed to be true.
Memories from Anastasia’s first night in Cedar Falls suddenly circulated in her mind. She could’ve sworn that she’d seen a shadowy figure in her backyard, and whatever it was had caused her frightening, life-like nightmare about a wolf. Knowing that she was being foolish and that these thoughts were solely driven by paranoia, Anastasia forced herself to be realistic. Nevertheless, she couldn’t quite shake the eerie feeling which had quickly engulfed her.
That night, Anastasia waited by her window like she always did. She was cozy in dark plaid flannel pajamas and fuzzy black socks; it was a winter-appropriate bedtime outfit which her grandmother insisted she wear after finding Anastasia’s skimpy nightie in the laundry room. Surprisingly, Frost found her just as attractive in these pajamas, causing Anastasia to happily adapt to the ensemble. Now, as she sat comfortably in the rocking chair, which had been placed by the window, and peered outside, she realized that the only thing that could make the night better was Frost’s presence.
Glancing at the clock, Anastasia read 11:55 p.m. Frost was never late, and she wondered if he would show up at all. She checked her cell phone for what seemed like the hundredth time, but there was still no message from Frost. She had already called him twice, only to receive his voicemail. Where the hell was he?
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from upstairs, startling Anastasia in the process. She tensed slightly, while wondering what was going on. Her grandparents were always asleep by 11 p.m. and didn’t rise until 7 a.m. This routine, which seemed to be set in stone, was the very reason why Anastasia and Frost’s evening encounters had never been discovered.
Slowly, Anastasia rose from the rocking chair and crept out of her bedroom. She’d just entered the foyer when her grandparents came down the stairs, whispering in serious tones. Anastasia retreated until she was out of view; however, she made sure that she could still hear what they were saying. She also watched them, noting how the glow from a nightlight made them look like creepy shadow people.
“Why do you have to be the town hero?” Mrs. Lockhart demanded. “You’re too old for this.”
“Shhh...don’t wake up Anastasia,” Mr. Lockhart scolded as he opened the closet to retrieve his coat and boots. “You know that I’m not trying to be a hero. There are several other men out there who are tracking this thing. And for the record, I’m not too old.”
“Those other men aren’t my husband. Please, Fredrick, I can hardly sleep because of worry.”
Mr. Lockhart sighed before stepping forward and kissing his wife’s forehead. “I don’t have a choice. The werewolf has to be killed.”
Anastasia muffled her gasp. If her grandfather was so convinced the werewolf was real that he’d risk his life to find him, then it must be true. With a pounding heart and feeling almost sick, she realized that all his odd behavior came down to the werewolf – he was just trying to keep her safe. Suddenly, a terrifying thought entered her mind. What if Frost had been on his way to see her when he was attacked by the werewolf? For all she knew, he could be lying in the woods, hurt and scared, or worse, he could already be dead. These thoughts panicked Anastasia, resulting in an insatiable need to uncover exactly what was going on.
“Go to bed, Rose,” Mr. Lockhart continued. “Take one of those sleeping pills, and when you wake up tomorrow morning, we’ll hopefully have a better idea of where the beast is hiding.”
“Be careful,” Mrs. Lockhart begged as he exited the house.
Mr. Lockhart stopped outside the open door to glance at his wife. “I promise,” was all he said before disappearing into the night.
Anastasia waited impatiently as her grandmother walked up the stairs. When she heard the bedroom door closing, she hurried to the closet and then put on her coat and boots. Within seconds, she was outside, searching for her grandfather, Frost and answers.
It was a bitterly cold night, and the crescent moon offered little light. Even the small, twinkling stars seemed further away than usual. Still, Anastasia soon found her grandfather scurrying toward the shed at the side of the house. Staying hidden behind a tree, she watched as he unlocked the shed, entered and returned a moment later with a rifle. As a child, Anastasia remembered being strictly told to stay away from that locked shed; now she knew why.
Her grandfather proceeded to hurry toward the road, passing so close to the tree which Anastasia was hiding behind that she could hear his rapid breathing. It was clear that he was nervous, and this gave her an eerie feeling; she’d never seen him frightened before. As he went, she remained hidden, watching until he disappeared from her sight.
Ever so carefully, Anastasia crept over their front lawn and along the side of the road. She quickly spotted her grandfather about a hundred feet away. It looked like he was waiting for someone; perhaps other werewolf hunters, Anastasia guessed. Her suspicion seemed to be confirmed as a truck sped by, hardly giving her enough time to re
treat behind the trees yet again. Her grandfather swiftly entered the truck, and then they drove away, leaving Anastasia unable to follow him any longer.
The frigid conditions were starting to get the better of Anastasia as she shivered uncontrollably. She’d never experienced coldness quite like this before, and her exposed skin, although minimal, was already starting to feel like it was burning. She realized that not having a car meant she wouldn’t be able to find Frost without seriously risking frostbite. Reluctantly, Anastasia turned back, knowing that’s what Frost would want her to do. After all, he was more than likely sound asleep in his warm bed, while she panicked unnecessarily.
Anastasia had only taken a few hurried steps when a rustling came from a dense patch of nearby trees. She stopped and listened, terrified that she was being followed. The rustling ceased, but she could hear the faint sound of someone breathing. Slowly and numbly, Anastasia turned around, her heart racing as she scanned the area. That’s when she saw something so shocking that she couldn’t even scream. There, less than ten feet away, was a pair of eyes staring straight at her, as if seeing into her very soul. These eyes belonged to an animal – there was no doubt about that. However, from the way his eyes shone and how the rest of his body remained unseen, Anastasia knew that this wasn’t any ordinary animal.
Not wanting to stay a second longer, Anastasia ran as fast as she could. She was trying to return to her house, but somehow, it seemed so far away. Anastasia was entering a state of desperation, and she had to know if the creature was following her. She turned around, while continuing to run, and was horrified to see what could only be a werewolf chasing after her. The werewolf appeared like a mere shadow, with the exception of his shining eyes, and he was big – too big.
Before Anastasia knew what was happening, she tripped and fell to the ground, hitting her head hard. It throbbed with pain, causing her to wince. As she lay there, stunned, freezing and staring up at the moon and stars, everything began to spin. Among this celestial blur appeared a beautiful white werewolf with bright blue eyes. He seemed to gaze upon Anastasia in concern, but she couldn’t be sure. Then everything went black.
Anastasia awoke with a start, only to find herself in bed and dressed solely in her flannel pajamas and fuzzy socks. Her bedroom was still dark, and as she looked at the clock, she discovered that it was only 4:30 a.m. Vague memories from late last night circulated in her mind, confusing her in the process. The last thing she remembered was lying on the ground with that mesmerizing werewolf looking over her. She’d been scared of the werewolf and was running away from him – that much she was sure of. However, it was the image of those eyes which had truly been imprinted in her mind. There was something kind and gentle about them, but it was more than just that – those eyes had belonged to Frost.
Reasoning that it had been a dream similar to the one she’d had during her first night in Cedar Falls, Anastasia got out of bed to get a glass of water. She was momentarily perturbed to discover that her head felt heavy, but since her throat also felt dry, she concluded that it was due to an oncoming cold. She decided to ignore the symptoms because her immune system usually fought off colds in no time. Besides, she had more pressing issues to think about; despite imagining her grandfather as a werewolf hunter and even the werewolf himself, one thing remained true – Frost had never shown up to her window last night.
* * *
The temperature in Cedar Falls kept decreasing until it was too cold to even snow. Although the sky was clear and a pretty shade of blue, the air was motionless, making it uncomfortable to breathe. It was the following morning, and the weather had forced Anastasia to stay inside her house, watching from behind the door. She was waiting for Frost to pick her up – that is, if he was even planning to come. She was desperate to get an explanation from him, or at the very least, find out if he was alright. Unfortunately, his unusual tardiness was only causing her to become more frustrated and even anxious. When Frost’s SUV finally pulled into her driveway, she hurried toward it, trying to ignore the frigid air which nipped at her face.
“Sorry,” Frost mumbled as she entered the vehicle.
“For what?” Anastasia asked, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I know I’m a little late.”
“If you’re referring to last night, I’d say you’re more than just a little late.” Anastasia continued before Frost could respond. “You always come to my window at night, so when you didn’t show up, I was worried. Hell, you weren’t even answering your cell phone.”
Looking perplexed, Frost was silent for a moment. He then faced Anastasia, speaking quietly, “I’m sorry. I’d never intentionally worry you.”
“Where were you?”
“Working at my dad’s hardware store until 11 p.m.,” Frost hurried to explain. “It’s unbelievably busy with people buying extra locks and other supplies to secure their houses, all because of some werewolf legend.” He paused, as if thinking about something serious. Then, he added remorsefully, “I actually don’t think I’ll be able to come to your window anymore – at least for a while.”
“What about this weekend?” Anastasia asked, overcome with disappointment. “Are you too busy then?”
“Nothing will stop us from being together. We will have that date.”
Studying Frost, Anastasia noted the bags under his eyes and his constant yawning. She knew that he hadn’t slept well, if at all. Since not showing up to her window was the first time he’d truly let her down, she decided to forget about it.
“Don’t make a habit of standing me up,” Anastasia said sternly, while leaning in for a kiss nonetheless.
Their lips touched for a mere second before he pulled away and said, “We better get to school.” He then drove away, being unusually quiet.
Anastasia repressed a sigh. She was starting to wonder if he found her attractive. Although Frost constantly told her how pretty she was, his inaction spoke louder than words; they hadn’t even shared a proper kiss yet. It was beginning to get so pathetic that Anastasia couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it any longer.
“So, what are your thoughts on this werewolf mania?” Anastasia asked casually, despite being really curious to hear his opinion. Although she hated to admit it even to herself, the gossip and her dreams were starting to become unnerving.
Frost never had a chance to reply as he suddenly broke hard, causing the SUV to swerve slightly to the left. Anastasia gasped, quickly turning her gaze away from Frost and onto the road ahead of them. She caught a glimpse of a white tail as a deer dashed into the woods.
“Are you okay?” Frost asked hurriedly.
“Yeah, fine,” Anastasia answered, her heart rate returning to normal.
A few seconds later, two men emerged from the woods, riding on snowmobiles. Upon seeing Frost’s SUV idling on a skewed angle, they came to a stop and dismounted. As they took off their helmets, Anastasia realized that it was Leo and Mike.
“Werewolf hunters,” Frost seethed under his breath.
Before Anastasia could say a word, Frost exited the SUV and marched toward Leo and Mike. Quickly, she followed him. Anastasia had never seen Frost look so angry, and it worried her. She remembered the night she’d first laid eyes upon him; he’d been the mediator, not the one initiating the fight.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Frost asked in a strained voice, obviously trying hard to stay calm. “We could’ve been killed by that deer.”
“Calm down, son,” Leo responded. “We didn’t see any deer.”
“I did, and he almost rammed into us,” Frost argued.
“We came from a designated snowmobile trail,” Mike spoke up. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I’ve been traveling this road for years,” Frost snapped. “I’ve never had an issue with the wildlife until people like you started trampling through the woods, disturbing everything in your path. Give up this stupid werewolf hunt before someone really gets hurt.”
“I don�
�t know if you’re some type of tree-hugger or just plain nuts,” Mike snapped right back, “but it’s the people like me and my brother who are trying to keep Cedar Falls safe.”
“You’re all making a big mistake,” Frost warned.
“And you’re in our way,” Mike retorted, before putting his helmet back on and returning to his snowmobile.
“This hunt is happening whether you like it or not, Frost,” Leo added. “There’s been too much evidence against the beast. He has to be destroyed.”
Anastasia watched as Leo and Mike mounted their snowmobiles and then rode off into the woods. “That was totally uncalled for,” she remarked, finally finding her voice.
“I know,” Frost said gruffly. “They make me sick.”
“I was referring to you!” Anastasia was flabbergasted by Frost’s behavior. Although he had her heart, that didn’t mean she’d allow him to act like an ass. “Dammit, Frost, they had rifles!”
“Sorry,” Frost muttered for the third time that day. “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation.” He hurried back to his SUV, looking very distraught.
What’s going on here? Anastasia pondered, hardly noticing the freezing air or frosted woods which surrounded her. Just when I start to get my life in order, everyone else goes completely crazy!
* * *
It was a Thursday afternoon as Anastasia exited the pharmacy with a pack of honey and lemon throat lozenges in hand. Her usually strong immune system had failed her, leaving her throat dry and itchy and her nose congested. Even her head ached slightly, causing her to conclude that she had a sinus cold. Nevertheless, she refused to spend any extra time in bed, adamant about not missing school, work and especially that forthcoming date with Frost.
The sun was beginning to set as Anastasia headed toward her grandmother’s car, which she’d borrowed to run this errand, but before she could enter, she noticed a flyer under her windshield wiper. She retrieved the flyer and unfolded it, expecting to find some type of home improvement service offered at a discounted price. Instead, what she read was so bizarre that it startled her.