Cursed

fall

Joanne Strickland liked to run. She liked to feel the wind against her flesh, she liked how her hair blew behind her, and how utterly free she felt – especially the faster she moved. She loved to hear the crowd cheering her own.

Today, however, there was no crowd. What drove her was the music that played through her headphones and the dire need to feel warm on the cold, September morning. She could barely see the sun through the gaps in the trees in the woods behind her home. The morning fog didn’t help either. However, Joanne memorized her morning route months ago and didn’t need the sun to light to her way.

She could see the edge of the wood. It was just a few feet away; she’d be there in only seconds, a minute at most.

“Oomph!” she shouted as she fell. She felt something soft and warm against her calves. Her hands caught her fall, the dirt and leaves digging into her palms and knees. Her headphones fell out of her ears, landing in the mud.

Joanne shook her head. She leaned up on her arms and saw what she had caused her fall. A man - a handsome man with a young face and dark hair. He wore a long-sleeve button-up shirt and slacks that were speckled with dried mud.

He stirred, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes. Joanne stared at him for a moment; for his eyes were the most striking thing about him. They were clear, and in them she could seen an unparalleled amount of sadness and suffering. What could haunt this man so? What caused him so much grief? He turned his head, staring at her, and then quickly fumbled to his feet. Joanne didn’t move.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?” he apologized. Joanne shook her head.

“No. I should be apologizing. I wasn’t watching where I was running. After all, I tripped over you,” she said. He held out his hand to help her stand. She took it and stood in front of him, her freckled hand feeling small in his. She awkwardly laughed as she pulled her hand away and wiped her hands on her shorts. She paused her music and slowly reigned in her headphones. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Oh, I must’ve fallen asleep,” he said. He self-consciously looked around the wood. “Do you know if there were any deaths last night?”

“No,” she said, laughing at his odd question. “Are… Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded. Though it seemed he said it more for her than him. He adjusted his cuffs as he took careful steps on the ground.

“Are you sure? Is there someplace you need to be?”

“Uh? Oh, no. Yes. No.”

Joanne half-smiled. She took a step towards him.

“You look like you could use some help.”

“No, I couldn’t accept. Really,” he said.

“It’s the least I could do,” Joanne said. “Please. It’ll make me feel better for tripping over you.”

Conflict flashed in his eyes. Joanne bit her lip and batted her eyelashes – did that really work on guys? She wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know. We don’t even know each other’s names–”

“Simple. I’m Joanne Strickland,” she said, smiling. She held out her hand. The man widened his nervous eyes. He looked at her hand, and then at her face. Hesitantly, he reached forward and shook her hand.

“Lawrence. Lawrence Talbot.”

“Well then, Lawrence, let’s go get a coffee.” She placed her hand over his. She could fear in his eyes – what could be so scary about coffee?

“I don’t have any money.”

“It’s on me.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Okay then, coffee.”
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I'm super excited for this. I love the classic monster movie genre. I wasn't going to have this be modern-ish, but when I was writing it just... clicked. So, the the Wolf Man in modern-ish day society.

I'll be picturing/writing a younger Lawrence Talbot, since I think he would've aged slowly after he was bitten.

Anyway, let me know what you think!