As she caught up to her little dog, Jenny turned around just in time to see a dark figure emerge from the woods, standing up on two legs and looking directly at her with wild, hungry eyes. Jenny screamed as the beast began making its way towards her, poor little Max struggling to escape her firm grip as she screamed the loudest scream she could.
Several of the guests and family members at the house came around to see what had happened as soon as they heard this, and as soon as the beast saw so many other people standing around him, he knew he was outnumbered. His coyote instincts kicked in, knowing his prey was not worth the fight the rest of the pack would put up; he turned and ran back off in the woods.
“Did you guys see that?” asked one of the guests.
“I told you it’s a werewolf!” said Patrick, one of Jenny’s friends from school.
“It can’t be...” replied Jenny’s father Clark in a shaky voice. “It’s broad daylight and the full moon isn’t for another week.”
Patrick looked up at Mr. Randolph. “Then what was that?”
Clark Randolph replied. “I don’t know, I gotta call Ryan....Not sure what he can do about it but we gotta do something.”
The BBQ at the Randolph’s quickly wrapped up as everybody went inside, feeling safer there, especially now that daylight was quickly dissipating into the evening darkness, where the beast may still lurk, hungry and waiting.
* * *
The creature did not lurk nor wait though. It ran and ran head long through the forest with reckless abandon. It did not stop its stride until it was certain it was alone and then it came to a sudden halt. It felt the hunger growing inside, the smell of the little girl still thick in his nostrils, her flesh and meat had carried the familiar human scent of which he had fed upon so long ago now. His recent feedings of rabbits, racoons and stray cats wouldn’t keep him strong for much longer. It waited for the sun to set completely, when the hunting would become easier. Soon it would feed upon human flesh once more. It waited for the sun to go down impatiently, pacing the forest floor with a deep hunger raging within.
High above the creature there circled a crow, watching him, finally having found what it had been searching for all this time. The crow landed stealthily in a tall tree and watched as the creature feasted upon the thoughts of its next meal.
* * *
Across the island, sitting amongst the tall trees and the remoteness of the wooded cabin, Jack was sitting on the front porch with his eyes closed. The sounds that emitted from deep within him emerged as low muffled chanting sounds that nobody else would hear. Sitting in his lap was a loaded Remington Model 870 Wingmaster shotgun, a deadly weapon for such a docile man. The wind picked up and ruffled the man’s long grey hair, making it dance around his chest and shoulders.
Jack opened his eyes, but even open he could see only one distinguishable scene before him. The trance never broken, his body retracted ever so slightly, tension building across his dark and leathery skin as he picked up the cold metal weapon from his lap and held it up in both his hands. The chanting ended as quickly as it had begun. Still in a state of meditation, he picked up the extra shells that slept in the wooden box on the floorboards of the porch and put several in his pockets. The shotgun looked heavy in the one hand as he carried it to the truck. As he opened the door to the driver’s side, he spoke softly but in a firm voice.
“Stay with him my friend...stay with him.”
As the engine of the truck turned, the dirt below the old muffler kicked up into a cloud of dust and then trailed behind the truck as it drove off into the wooded road towards town.
* * *
As darkness fell on the island, so did the worry fall upon Ryan. He drove down Hollows Lane in his police cruiser, on the lookout for anybody that had not heeded the police advice to stay indoors after dark unless absolutely necessary to be outside. All officers except for a select few were out and about this evening, keeping watch on their beloved community, unsure what exactly they were protecting it from on this chilly evening. All they knew was that the streets and surrounding woods of Oakwood were no longer safe and they wouldn’t be safe until the creature that prowled them was captured or killed.
As Ryan pulled up near the Leblanc residence at the end of Hollows Lane, he noticed half a dozen kids hanging out on the front lawn, tossing a football around and laughing loudly at a joke someone said.
Ryan put down his window and called out to the group of them. “You kids better get inside. It’s not safe outdoors, especially not after dark.” He eyed them all one by one, their faces no longer smiling but frowns forming all around. As most kids their age, they didn’t like being told what to do.
One of them spoke up and with a smart-aleck tone of voice he called back. “You heard what happened at the Randolph’s, place didn’t you? It won’t attack crowds, it’s afraid of us.”
Grady Foster had been the kid that spoke up, the one that always spoke up and always thought he knew it all. Somewhere there came a snide remark from one of his friends.
“It should be scared of you, with that face!”
A few chuckles were heard before Ryan said, “Listen to me, Grady. We don’t know what this thing is capable of, and I’m sure it will get braver as it gets hungrier. They were three at the Watson’s house when they got attacked and you know how THAT turned out, don’t you?” Ryan looked at the other kids, their faces serious and even a bit frightened. “Please kids, go inside now,” said Ryan.
Wendy Leblanc spoke up next, feeling it was her duty as this was her parent’s house. She felt the need to be the one to do the responsible thing. “We better listen to him guys, come on...I just downloaded that old Stephen King movie, Silver Bullet, let’s go watch that!”
Grady tossed the football to another one of the kids and with a dirty look towards Ryan, he replied. “Fine then, let’s go.”
The kids followed the pair inside as Ryan sat in his cruiser while scanning the area, satisfied with his ability to talk some sense into the rebellious kids. His cruiser slowly drove down Hollows Lane, then over to Willow Creek Road, where Norah’s home stood silent and dark.
* * *
The red Ford truck trudged into town, the driver focused on the road but also on the events that were on his mind. As he pulled into town, he spotted Peggy Martin standing outside her home in her robe, waiting for Bijou, her little Pomeranian, to finish doing his business. As he neared her house he rolled down his window, Jack heard her call out to her furry friend in her high pitched squeaky voice.
“Hurry up will ya, before the big monster comes to eat us both!”
Jack leaned out his truck window and called out to her. “Peggy, have you seen Ryan?”
Peggy turned around and when she recognized Jack. She walked down her driveway a bit and replied. “No, but he’s in town somewhere...why?”
Bijou, having done his business, ran quickly down the driveway to the truck where he sniffed and barked joyously, greeting the man with much enthusiasm.
“Do you have his phone number?” asked Jack, seemingly growing impatient, which was very much not like him.
“Of course I do Jack, he’s my nephew.”
Jack readjusted himself in his seat as Peggy came closer to the truck. She peered inside and spotted the shotgun on the seat next to Jack. A look of worry spread across her face as she spoke.
“What is this about, Jack? Is everything alright?”
Jack looked at Peggy and with an almost desperate look on his face he spoke. “Just call him and tell him to meet me at Eileen Jenkins’ house. It’s very important you do this for me, Peggy.”
She bent down as he asked her to call Ryan and picking up Bijou in her arms, she could feel the urgency in Jack’s pleas.
“Of course, I will...Oh and you mean Norah Jenkins’ place, right?” she called out to Jack.
By this point, he had already sl
owly started to drive off. From outside the open truck window she heard him call out. “Tell him to wait for me outside!”
Peggy didn’t waste any time as she took out her cordless phone from her robe pocket, Bijou squirmed fervently out of Peggy’s arms and jumped down, little paws hitting the pavement. He ran onto the sidewalk and wagged his tail while he watched the red truck drive away and turn off onto another street. When Ryan answered his phone, his aunt spoke before he even said hello.
“Ryan, it’s your aunt Peggy. The strangest thing just happened....”
* * *
Outside of Norah’s house, darkness had fallen on the property. The beast crept alongside the tree-lined property, where it would be safe from being seen. The crow watched the creature through the trees, as it searched for its next meal. The crow had followed the creature all evening, through the woods from street to street; it had been on the prowl for several hours.
The creature had found the scent of its last meal and had followed the trail here. It came out of the woods slowly, on all fours and walked across the yard to the front door of Norah’s house. It sat up in a squatting position on its hind legs. Its deformed snout pointed upwards, small white clouds of breath forming as it sniffed the air, seemingly having caught scent of something that immediately captured its attention.
The crow felt the beast growl from deep within before it ever heard it, rumbling at a low but clearly discernible level. The beast slowly stood upright, its fur stretching over large and heavy limbs. Cracking and popping sounds of joints resonated loudly into the quiet and cold night. This would allow it to walk on two legs.
Once the creature stood upright, it made its way towards the home and quietly climbed the stairs of the front porch, approaching the dark house without fear. The beastly reflection in the glass window of the door visually echoed every move; its large and fur covered body crept without a sound as it reached the door. There it stood staring into its own animal eyes, reflected back on the window.
It stared in awe of its own terrorizing allure, a simplistic awareness that it had not carried when it was but a coyote. Now, it could deduce the reasoning for the terror that people felt when it had fed upon them. As its instincts took over, it sniffed again, nostrils now full of the unmistakable smell of human flesh and blood.
In one quick motion, the morphed coyote creature pounced onto the door and sent shards of glass flying inside the house. Within a few seconds it was standing in the middle of a dark room, its eyes pulsating a bright yellow while a thick oozing liquid of the same colour trickled from a few cuts on its left shoulder, pieces of broken glass still embedded in the fur covered flesh.
It eyed the room and followed the scent to track it down into the kitchen. It turned to its right and noticed the smell seemed stronger in that direction. Directly in the scents path there was a closed white door with a soft glow of light underneath. A sudden burst of animalistic instinct took over the creature.
It ran towards the closed white door at full speed. It knew its prey was on the other side and would stop at nothing to feed at this point. As it rushed towards the door, it emitted a deafening howl. At the very same moment, a car drove up the driveway, a beam of headlights lighting up part of the kitchen as it did.
* * *
As Ryan patrolled the streets of Oakwood, he could feel an increasingly strong sense of anxiety building up inside of him. Normally he always maintained a calm attitude and managed to keep his senses about him. During his ride tonight though, he could feel something wasn’t right. He felt a kind of build-up of emotions and worries taking residence within his subconscious.
As he was driving down Willow Creek Road, he caught the distinct sound of a loud and crude howling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He knew the sound all too well, as he had heard the exact same terrifying howl when he’d responded to the Stuart’s incident back in January. He knew he had been in the vicinity of this creature before, and that he’d escaped without a scrape. He realized how lucky he had been that night, now knowing exactly how vicious this animal had proven itself.
As he drove down the road, he searched intently on finding the source of the howl. Most homes were lit, families having a late supper, some putting their children to bed or reading them bedtime stories about the big bad wolf. Little did they seem to know that the big bad wolf had been lurking just outside their home, waiting for one of them to step outside with their guard down.
As Ryan approached Norah’s house, his heart started to race when he noticed the front door had been shattered down the middle. Broken glass from the window sparkled against the beams of his headlights as he pulled up with his cruiser as close to the front porch as possible. The rest of the house remained drowned in the abyss of darkness.
Ryan’s hands felt cold and shaky, not warm and steady as they should have been under normal circumstances. He felt scared for the first time in a long time. Grabbing his radio, he called out to his co-workers for some much needed assistance.
“Need backup at 5 Willow Creek Road for a possible break-in; over.”
The static of the radio seemed to overpower the car, except for the rapid and loud heartbeats that Ryan could hear echoing from within. Suddenly, the static was replaced by a crisp silence followed by a deep voice.
“Brent here. In the middle of something here; over.”
Ryan exhaled loudly. He brought the radio closer to his mouth and asked, “Where are you, Brent?”
He hoped to be able to get some help right away but his hopes were dashed when Brent replied, “Near the church. Father Thompson says he saw something in the woods behind the church. Clifford, Paul and I are just about to go check it out; over.”
Ryan looked up at the house where all seemed quiet and still now. He wondered if maybe he had imagined what he’d heard before, his own mind playing tricks on him. He replied back into the radio.
“When you’re done with Father Thompson, come on by Norah Jenkin’s house. Something doesn’t look right here; over.”
Brent quickly replied, “We’ll be there as soon as we can, over.”
As soon as Ryan had placed the radio back onto its clip on the dash of the police cruiser, there came a loud crashing from inside the house. In a flash, the car door flung open, and Ryan was creeping up the walkway that led to Norah’s house. He pulled out his gun from the leather holster on his hip, carrying it low, pointing it downwards in front of him. The air in front of his face formed small white clouds of fog as his breath pooled into the cold air.
Once at the top of the porch stairs, he entered the house cautiously through the hole in the front door. Quickly glancing at the door, he noticed some fur was caught on fragments of the shattered wooden door. As he entered, he started straight towards a very dim light in the hall just ahead of him. It was the light that Norah had always kept on in the kitchen over the sink. Ryan inched slowly towards the lit kitchen, unsure of what he would find.
* * *
In the basement of the house on Willow Creek Road, a very weak and tired Norah was curled up on the small bed, where she remained chained and trapped. Her sleep fitful, her body twitched in the throes of a nightmare.
“Amy...no!” she called out in her sleep. Oblivious to her, creaks from the upstairs made their way into the basement and resounded stiffly against the stark and cold underground room.
* * *
Upstairs, Ryan made his way through the living room to get to the kitchen. He had his flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other, carrying both next to each other in front of him, ready to react when he needed. Everything was in place in this room. Really the only thing that wasn’t had been the front door. Someone had obviously forced their way inside the home. What Ryan was trying to figure out was if this person was still inside or not.
Scanning the room slowly for any indication of another presence, his foot crunched on some broken g
lass carried over from the front door. If there had been someone else in the house with him, there was no doubt in Ryan’s mind that they had most definitely been made aware of his presence now. His neck and shoulders stiffened as he lifted his foot off the broken glass he’d just crushed a bit more. He kept moving forward, telling himself that it was too late to turn back now.
* * *
Norah stirred fitfully in her slumber. The dream awakened her, but confused, her mind was no longer of her own. She called out softly, “Momma...is that you?” as her hand reached into the naked air, it found nothing there. She seemed to see something or someone that only her mind could see.
* * *
Ryan suppressed the urge to gasp as he saw the shadow cloaked creature at the back of the kitchen. As he stepped from the living room into the kitchen, the beast came into view perfectly. It had emerged from behind a cracked, white door that looked like it had just been torn open, shreds of white painted wood sprawled across the stairs and threshold of the basement doorway. The beast snarled loudly and exposed sharp razor-like teeth, strings of saliva dangling from its fur covered chin. Ryan brought up his gun and took aim. Three shots rang out as he fired his gun without hesitation.
The beast didn’t even blink or budge. For a moment, it just stood there, its mouth gaping open, eyes as evil as a demon. Suddenly, the creature vanished into thin air, dissipating into nothingness.
Ryan would remain oblivious to Norah’s inherit abilities she’d gained after her sister’s passing. He would never understand that the creature wasn’t magical as he briefly believed in that very instant when it vanished. As Ryan lowered his gun, his eyes not believing what he had just seen, a sound from behind him made him turn his head a just a bit, but it was too late.
* * *
Suddenly, Norah was snapped back to reality and sat upright in the bed. The chain on her ankle clanked loudly as it hit the metal foot board when she tried to get up. Norah was unsure of what she’d just heard, but she was positive she was no longer in this house alone.
Oakwood Island Page 17