Werewolf's Bride

The fire crackled sharply and cast red shadows across our faces. The heat from the fire only gave warmth to the front of our bodies, so naturally, I was still cold. The sky was clear besides a silvery cloud that hid the moon, and the stars seemed close enough to touch.

As I glanced past the circle of my friends at the trees surrounding us, I was then sure that my vivid imagination would run off with me; and if I didn’t force myself upon reality I would scare myself.

I get scared very easily.

Laughing interrupted my fearful thoughts,

“I’m really glad we came here,” said Sandy, wrapping her blanket more tightly around her, “We should do it again.”

“Where did your dad go?” Annie asked Diane, shifting closer to Cameron nervously.

“Bathroom,” she said quietly, her eyes flashing to Cameron’s face and then at the fire again. I frowned sadly, Diane was easily in love with Cameron—and I couldn’t imagine the pain she felt as she watched he and Annie cuddle right in front of her.

“Are you okay?” Henry asked, wrapping an arm around me.

“I’m fine. Honestly.” I told him, snuggling closer to him so I could whisper in his ear. “It’s just Diane. I’m worried about her.”

He nodded understandingly, and then shrugged.

“She’ll be alright, don’t worry.”

“So who’s up for scary stories?” Tyler rubbed his hands together excitedly after sitting down next to Diane.

She rolled her eyes, scooting farther away from him. “Not me.”

“Ah, come on. There’s no campfire without a good story.” Sandy laughed, beaming at Tyler. Diane glared menacingly and both of them, got up and sat next to me.

I squeezed her arm,

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked softly.

“I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, fixing her sweatshirt. “I wonder where my dad went…”

“Alright, I’ve got one,” said Tyler grinning eerily as the firelight danced across his shadowed face. “Brace yourselves… because what I’m about to tell you really happened right here in these woods.”

Tyler was standing up to tell the story better for his audience, and the reflection of the fire flared in his eyes. We looked intently on him, waiting for the story to begin.

“Many years ago a beautiful girl was engaged to be married to a soldier,” he began in a low voice, moving his hands dramatically as he spoke, “Her beauty caught the eye of the quiet woodsman who lived in a cabin in the deepest part of these woods, hidden near a pathway that she walked by every Monday and Wednesday to her dying mother. What many did not know, was the fact that this woodsman was no human; he had sold his soul for the ability to turn himself into a wolf at will. One particular Wednesday, he lay in wait for the girl when she was walking home and then approached her, begging her to elope with him. The lovely maiden refused, spurning his affections and crying out to her love to save her from his advances. Her eager fiancé had heard her, already searching for her when she was late returning home. The soldier drove the woodsman away, threatening him with dire consequences if he ever came upon his love again.

“The furious woodsman lay low for a few days—his pride damaged and anger hardly contained. He subtly waited for his chance. It came upon the girl’s wedding day. She was dancing happily at her wedding reception with a group of her friends, unsuspecting to the lusting eyes of the woodsman. He leapt upon her and dragged her away with him to his hidden cabin, and the enraged bridegroom could not keep up with the wolf’s maddening paces as they disappeared into the thick forest.

“For many days, the distraught soldier and his friends scoured the woods, searching in vain. Once he thought he saw the wolf, and shot at it. In reaching the area of where he had seen it, he found a piece of its tail lying on the ground. But where the wolf had gone, there was no sign. After months and months of searching, his friends begged him to let the girl go and live his life. The soldier was now half-mad with grief, and absolutely refused to give up. That very day, he found the cave where the werewolf lived. Within it laid the preserved body of his beloved wife. The girl had refused the werewolf’s advances to the very end, and in his anger he had killed her. After his murderous fury had died away, the wolf tenderly laid the body of the beautiful girl he had loved and now killed into a wooden coffin, and he visited her every day. The soldier shot at the wolf that he had found upon the visit of his dead bride, and at this; the dying wolf disappeared from sight.

“It is said that the maddened soldier still haunts these woods today, killing anyone that might come near his corpse bride, still hunting the werewolf he believes still alive…”

“AGHHHH!”

We all screamed at Diane’s dad, who had appeared behind Tyler when we least expected it.

“Damn it Mr. Olsen!” Tyler cursed, shoving him lightly before sitting down.

Mr. Olsen laughed, giving him a light punch in the shoulder before sitting next to him. I didn’t realize I had been so enthralled by the story until Henry had gently lifted my clutched fingers from his arm.

“Oh, sorry.” I muttered, folding my hands together. He wrapped his arms around me and held me, chuckling,

“You’re fine,” he murmured into my ear.

“Alright kids,” he said checking his watch, “About time for bed, don’t you think?”

Ten minutes later Henry was walking me to my tent, holding me close as I shivered.

“Sure you don’t want to keep me warm tonight?” I teased, blinking at him innocently. He laughed, holding me close.

“Very tempting,” he murmured in my ear, “but I’ll have to reject that offer.”

I crawled into the tent and snuggled into my sleeping bag next to Sandy, shivering against its silky coldness.

Diane slept on the other side of me, and Annie was still talking to Cameron by the fire.

“Is Sandy asleep?” she asked, rolling on her side. Laughter from the other tent next to us interrupted me, and we were silent for a moment.

“Alright now,” Mr. Olsen called from the tent, “Annie, Cameron, get to bed. We got a big day ahead of us.”

Diane sighed, pounding her pillow in frustration.

“Yes,” I said, “Sandy’s asleep.” I confirmed after testing her. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I really don’t think I can handle this,” she admitted, her voice soft, “It hurts so much to see them together.”

I sighed,

“I don’t understand why Annie is okay with how you’re being hurt in all of this,” I said in frustration.

“Mary,”

“Yes?” I asked, bracing myself.

“I think I’m still in love with him.” She whimpered, only silencing when we heard footsteps near out tent. Annie and Cameron spoke softly, and I cursed the sound of their lips coming together before he said good night.

Annie crawled in guiltily, and Diane hid her face in her pillow to hide what I was sure to be an extremely malicious look. The silence was awkward, so I deemed it an appropriate time to go to sleep.

**********

If I had known that sleep would bring me to a nightmare I thought had stopped once and for all—I wouldn’t have gone to sleep that night.

But how was I to know?

I dozed off, and nightmares brought me to a past I wanted to forget.

I was in my bed, smiling at my beaming parents who had just kissed me goodnight. Being only seven-years-old, it hadn’t crossed my mind that it would be the last time they did so. I had curled up comfortably in the soft-cotton quilt my grandma had made for my sixth birthday, my eye-lids growing heavier and heavier as sleep loomed over my sub-conscious mind.

And then the closet door that was placed directly across from my bed opened very slowly. I could hear a rough breathing, haggard and gasping. I did what any normal seven-year-old child would do in that situation. I slipped farther under the quilt, hugging it to me tightly. I closed my eyes as tight as they could shut, pushing my lips together so they might not allow a whimper of fear within me escape.

Then I heard the creaking steps on the wooden floor of my bedroom, and still the rough breathing, the snarling exhales. I dared not move. My body felt paralyzed, clammy and shaking. I thought I might pass out for I was barely breathing.

I heard the door to my bedroom open, allowing the hall light to trip into my room. Whatever it was that had been in my closet crept into the hallway, leaving the door open.

My parent’s bedroom was only two doors away. The first door was the bathroom, followed by a closet door. I needed to warn my parents. I had to stop whatever the creature was in my closet from getting to them.

I tiptoed to the door of my bedroom, peeking out just in time to see the back of a hairy creature wearing ragged clothing, standing on two legs and carefully opening the door to my parents bedroom. Luckily my hand was over my mouth to stop me from crying out, and I ran back to my bed, hiding under the quilt.

And then a scream…

The familiar scream of my parents as they fought for their lives. And failed.

There was yelling for only a second, it sounded like things were being pushed over—more snarling—and then a window shattered, I could hear my mother gasping—and then silence.

I trembled under the soft quilt, still paralyzed and unable to cry for help. I clutched the locket my now-deceased parents had given me, scared like never before.

The quietness seemed to tell me that I was okay, the creature was gone, and I could call my grandmother. I slowly peeked from under the covers…

And there was the creature’s face staring at me, only six inches from my face.

I screamed in my dream—waking up and screaming in my tent, shaking from the vividness of the nightmare.