Can't Fight the Moonlight

I spent the rest of the daylight hours in my shared bedroom with Matt, keeping him company while the minutes narrowed down until he’d become a monster. His friends continued to sit out in the living room with El, where we could hear them talking and getting along through the door, thankfully.

When there were only just a few minutes until sundown everyone walked down into the basement. To the tenants I can only wonder how strange that looked. I suppose some rumors are going to rise about how El and I are some Satanists and we’ve started a cult. It’s not like our neighbors think we’re normal as it is. All the fights that break out in the alley, the nights and early mornings coming in up through the lobby showered in blood, that’s all totally normal.

The seconds ticked by as the sun made its way down, and after getting Matt settled in the cage and putting up a blanket so he could get undressed, I left. Not only did I not want to stick around to see the change take place, its best if I get a move and try to track down the scumbag who did it. I left him there in El and his band mates’ care and made my way out into the night.

I’m standing in the shadows as I think back on the last hours, trying to take in some of it while keeping a keen ear out for any sudden rustles, screams or howls. I’m just across the street of the venue where Matt was attacked, there’s a small concert going on tonight of a local band from the next town over. I figure if the beast is still here this is where he’ll be. He’ll sense all those boiling bodies and all the sexual tension and come a’ running.

It’s only about half an hour after sun down and I could be here or out here all night looking for this thing. Good thing about it is I get to beat the hell out of it once I find it. No, I can’t kill it, it being human an’ all twenty eight days out of the week, but tonight it’s all monster and monsters I can pummel.

I walked around the block a few times after standing for about an hour, trying to draw it out like I did the other night. The streets like always are just about empty, the occasional person walking home from work or the movies.

The remaining concert goers should be leaving soon and that’s when he’s likely to strike. The band is done with their set and they’re packing it up now. I know that because a lot of people came rushing out at once about five minutes ago, just as I made the last patrol of the street. Some friends and venue workers are still inside, helping out the band and waiting to close up, so I wait too.

I laugh at myself lightly at the flinch my body makes at the sound of the howl I was waiting for. It shatters the silence like a mirror being thrown. Can I count that as seven years bad luck? A few people leave through the doors and make their way to their cars, the last of which are parked along the street. As the band walks out with their guitars and amps I get myself ready, I can feel him. He’s here, watching them and watching me. “You don’t want them,” I whisper, not in any certain direction just under my breath to dead air around me. “…You want me…” I continue, straining my eyes for any sign of movement. I keep my eyes wide as I continuously scan up and down the street and around the small gathered group of people. A mad bark erupts through their quiet chatter and they all freeze, two girls even break out with a startled scream. Exchanging looks they hurry themselves up and get into their cars. Following the band, two workers leave from the front doors, locking them as the go.

I make a small step from the shadows, not enough to separate me from them so they can see me, but enough so I can be prepared to pounce if he does. They too hurry up and get into their shared car, driving away and leaving me alone on the deserted road.

I walk out now, into the light of the moon and cross the sidewalk, walking along the street pavement in clear site. “I’m right here, what are you waiting for?” I ask and from the distant right a menacing growl answers. I nod and pull my fingers from my jean pockets. “Why didn’t you attack last night? Did you go for take out? And decide to come back and get even tonight? ‘Cause I can tell you that was a bad idea.” Echoing down the street, his bark amplifies as he drives down the street from his hiding spot to charge. The loud thud of his paws hitting the pavement connect with my ears and tell me which way he’s coming before his bark did, and in time I turn to see him coming from behind.

I erect straight up in attack stance, puffing out my arms within reach to strike but it’s coming too fast, I dart out of way just in time so I’m not taken down and eaten like kibble. I kind of feel like this is getting a bit personal... He stops in his tracks so he doesn’t slam into the sign poll, not that that would do any damage. I turn rapidly to direct a kick at his lowered head that is now in my direction and it connects, I can feel the slap of my foot hitting its eye through my boot.

I deliver another kick with my other leg, jumping onto my foot with speed as to land the second kick, which is directed at his snout. It too connects, but barely without taking a bite of my foot with it. I lunge my upper body towards it, to slam my fist into the side of its face. My knuckles practically go up into its furry ear. I struggle to knock it to the ground, but I get it there, straddling the top of the beast with much effort. I deliver blow after blow, against its face but the wriggling monster knocks me off of it and over onto the cold, hard concrete, face first.

I don’t have time for the little scratches that sting; I whip myself back up to my feet only to be taken down again in a tackle. I dig my elbow up against the under side of its chin, keeping its drooling, hungry mouth as far from my body as possible. My face is getting damp with slobber; stinky, fowl, werewolf slobber. The smell alone is enough to distract, or ignite in my case.

When I was tackled I landed on my left arm, I wriggle it free from beneath my body to jab the mutt in one eye and then the other. I thought he was smart, but he obviously forgot those things he’s flailing around are his arms and he could use those to tear my very being apart.

I use my legs to kick him off of me and jump up to dart and land back on him, where I continue to thrust my fists against his head. “Come on, be unconscious already!” I scream at him, driving punch after punch. In pattern I rotate my punches from hand to had, delivering equal blows with each. Harder I hit, I need to knock it out so I can take it back and imprison it. I hit him with yet another hard blow but this time something snaps. My hit was off, it was sloppy and something broke. The animal that struggled just seconds before underneath me now fluttered to a complete stop. “Umm…” I mutter, staring down at the fur ball, not sure if this is an act or not.

With a slightly shaken finger I prod at the chest of the brute and there’s no reaction. “Oh…oh…Did I kill it…” I think I say but I’m not aware if the words leave my mouth or not. “…Hello?” I whimper, poking at the animal once more, harder this time. I tilt my body upward just a bit to look into the gouged eyes to see nothing but blood seeping from them. “…You can totally scare the lights out of me and wake up now…” I mumble, batting at its chest some more, but there’s no reaction. The only movement coming from it is the movement I’m making.

Realization of what I did arises. I broke its neck with the blows I pounded into its flesh.

I scramble off of the dead weight of fur and meat and just sit zoned out from what’s just ensued. My hand makes it way up to my head, my heavy head. And my hand holds it as I slowly break down, lost in the repeated noise of that demising snap.

“Ah!” I shriek as I slide across the cement, the rough canvas tears up my skin as I’m sent feet away from the dead monster. Instinctively, protectively, I bring my hand over my face and my leg up over my body. A deranged cry fills my ears and I want to cover them but if I do that’ll leave me unprotected. I shrug out of the protective fetal-like position slowly, bringing my eyes over my arm to see a second werewolf. It’s standing there over the first one sniffing it.

As soon as my eyes peer at the mutt its face turns towards me and there’s slobber flying and its teeth are bared. It rushes at me and I roll out of the way just in time, scrambling up to my feet with no thought other then survival right now. I draw the silver dagger that was tucked in the slot of my boot, prepared to use it. This one is raging; it’s howling, barking, screaming and out for blood. “You’re the one I was looking for tonight…” I whisper out loud to myself, I can see it now, the darker, thicker fur of the one from the first night.

He springs at me and I brandish the dagger. He knocks me down with brute force, chomping for my flesh. Like before I keep my elbow locked under his chin but it’s not enough, luckily when he knocked me down he landed right on my weapon. The more he digs at me the deeper it guts him. To make this quick I pull the handle with my hand up his body until I can’t anymore. And at my stopping point he let’s out one last angry cry before falling limp. And I know he too is dead, this isn’t some tactic or strategy. I leave him there lying on me for a few minutes, maybe even longer before I finally push him off and lay there on my back by myself.