The Initiation of the Werewolf
The pale moon shone brightly through the naked branches of Briarwood Cemetery. It, being
an odd time to go in and pay respects, due to work and other obligations, this became the
only available time. Thank goodness for that moon and the light it cast, as I could actually
see better, almost clearer in the moonlight. The only thing I didn’t see was that dog that
greeted me fiercely when I approached the gate. It took a bite, but ran off before I could
even swat at it. Funny, the blood seems to have stopped flowing and my hearing, too, has
become more acute. I remembered where her headstone was and what turns needed to be
made to get there, but for some reason I didn’t make it there with the flowers and prayers.
In fact, what had happened next can not be remembered, but there was this smell. It’s hard
to describe, but this smell was putrid yet so tempting. I remember feeling like I had to find
the source of the smell, but it seemed to be moving. Wait, there was a face and there, too,
was screaming, but the smell, I can’t place. Wait! Blood. That’s it, the smell was blood and it
was fresh. Then after that all became hazy as I watched the moon transform into sharpened
focus. Now, I’ve just awakened near to my car. There’s dry blood on my face, but I do not
feel hurt or injured and my clothes, well they’re tattered and torn. I hear sirens in the
distance and can’t figure out if I should run or stay, but my gut feeling, almost like an animal
instinct tells me to run and hide, perhaps to return later.
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