R. Stine: The Werewolf of Fever Swamp

I didn't see the snake until I stepped on it.

I glanced down in time to see its bright green head shoot forward.

I felt a sharp stab of pain as its fangs dug into my ankle.

The pain jolted up my leg.

I uttered a choked gasp before I crumpled to the ground.

I hit the ground and curled into a tight ball as the pain throbbed through my body.

Red dots formed in my eyes. The dots grew larger and larger until I saw only red. The color shimmered in rhythm to the throbbing pain.

Through the curtain of red, I saw the snake slither into the bushes.

I grabbed my ankle, trying to force the pain down.

Slowly, the red faded, then vanished, leaving only the pain.

My hand suddenly felt wet.

Blood?

I glanced down to see Wolf licking my hand. Fierce licking, as if trying to cure me, trying to make everything okay again.

Despite the pain, I laughed. "It's okay, boy," I said. "I'm okay."

He kept licking my hand until I climbed to my feet. I felt a little dizzy. My legs were shaky.

I tried putting weight on the foot that had been bitten.

It felt a little better.

I took a step, limping. Then another.

"Let's go, Wolf," I said. He gazed up at me sympathetically.

I knew I had to get home quickly. If the snake was poisonous, I was in big trouble. I had no way of knowing how much time I had before the venom would paralyze me completely — or worse.

Wolf stayed by my side as I limped over the soft ground toward home. I was gasping for breath. My chest felt tight. The ground swayed beneath me.

Was it because of the snake venom? Or was it just because I was so frightened?

Pain shot up my side with every step I took.

But I kept pulling myself along, talking to Wolf all the while, ignoring the throbbing ache of my ankle.

"We're almost there, Wolf," I said, panting loudly. "Almost there, boy."

The dog sensed that something was seriously wrong. He stayed by my side instead of running his usual zigzag patterns in front of me and behind me.

The end of the trees came into view. I could see bright sunlight just beyond the swamp.

"Hey — " a voice called to me. I saw Will and Cassie waiting for me on the flat grass.

They began running toward me. "Are you okay?" Cassie called.

"No. I… I got bit!" I managed to choke out. "Please — go get my dad!"

They both took off, running full speed to my house. I dropped down on the grass, spreading my legs straight out, and waited.

I tried to stay calm, but it was impossible.

Was the snake poisonous? Was the venom heading straight to my heart? Was I about to die any second?

I reached down with both hands and carefully, carefully, pulled off my mud-covered sneaker. Then, moving it a tiny bit at a time, I lowered my white sock down over the ankle and off my foot.

The ankle was a little swollen. The skin was red except for a white, puckered spot around the bite. Inside that spot, I saw two small puncture marks, bright red droplets of blood oozing from each hole.

When I raised my eyes from the wound, I saw my dad, dressed in brown shorts and a white T-shirt, hurrying along the flat grass toward me, followed closely by Will and Cassie.

"What happened?" I heard my dad ask them. "What happened to Grady?"

"He was bitten by a werewolf!" I heard Cassie reply.

"Keep the ice pack on it," Dad instructed. "The swelling will go down."

I groaned and held the ice pack against my ankle.

Mom tsk-tsked from the kitchen table. She had a newspaper spread out in front of her. I couldn't tell if she was tsk-tsking over me or over the day's news.

Outside the screen door I could see Wolf, on his side on the grass just past the back stoop, sound asleep. Emily was in the front room, watching some soap on TV.

"How does it feel?" Mom asked.

"A lot better," I told her. "I think I was mainly scared."

"Green snakes aren't poisonous," Dad reminded me for the tenth time. "But I took every precaution, just in case. We'll wrap it up really good when you're through putting ice on it."

"What was all that talk about werewolves?" Mom asked.

"Cassie has werewolves on the brain," I said. "She thinks the swamp hermit is a werewolf."

"She seems like a sweet girl," Mom said quietly. "I had a nice talk with her while your father was taking care of your bite. You're lucky, Grady, to find two kids your age out here on the edge of a swamp."

"Yeah, I guess," I replied, shifting the ice pack on the ankle. "But she was driving Will and me nuts with all her werewolf talk."

Dad was washing his hands in the kitchen sink. He dried them on a dish towel, then turned to me. "That old swamp hermit is supposed to be harmless," he said. "At least, that's what everyone says."

"Well, he gave us a real scare," I told him. "He chased us through the swamp, shouting, Tm the werewolf!' "

"Weird," Dad replied thoughtfully. He tossed the dish towel onto the counter.

"You should stay away from him," Mom said, looking up from the newspaper.

"Do you believe in werewolves?" I asked.

Dad snickered. "Your mom and I are scientists, Grady. We're not supposed to believe in supernatural things like werewolves."

"Your father is a werewolf," Mom joked. "I have to shave his back every morning so he'll look human."

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically. "I'm serious. I mean, haven't you heard the weird howls at night?"

"Lots of creatures howl," Mom replied. "I'll bet you howled when that snake bit your ankle!"

"Can't you be serious?" I cried shrilly. "You know, the howls didn't start until it was a full moon."

"I remember. The howls didn't start until that dog showed up!" Emily called from the front room.

"Emily, give me a break!" I shouted.

"Your dog is a werewolf." Emily called.

"Enough werewolf talk," Mom muttered. "Look. I've got hair growing on my palms!" She held up her hands.

"That's just ink off the newspaper," Dad said. He turned to me. "See? There's a scientific explanation for everything."

"I really would like to be taken seriously," I said through clenched teeth.

"Well…" Dad glanced outside. Wolf had rolled onto his back and was sleeping with all four legs up in the air. "The moon will look full for only two more nights," Dad told me. "Tonight and tomorrow night. If the howls stop after tomorrow night, we'll know it was a werewolf, howling at the full moon."

Dad chuckled. He thought it was all a big joke.

We had no idea that something was about to happen that night that might change his opinion about werewolves — forever.

Will and Cassie came over after dinner. Mom and Dad were still loading dishes into the dishwasher and cleaning up. Emily had hurried into town to go to the only movie playing.

I was walking around pretty well. The ankle barely hurt at all. Dad's a pretty good doctor, I guess.

The three of us settled in the front room, and we instantly got into an argument about werewolves.

Cassie insisted that the swamp hermit wasn't kidding, that he really was a werewolf.

Will told her she was a complete jerk. "He only chased us because he heard you call him a werewolf," he told Cassie angrily.

"Why do you think he lives by himself way deep in the swamp?" Cassie demanded of Will. "Because he knows what happens to him when the moon is full, and he doesn't want anyone else to know it!"

"Then why did he scream to us that he was a werewolf this afternoon?" Will asked impatiently. "Because he was just joking, that's why."

"Come on, guys. Let's change the subject," I said. "My parents are both scientists, and they say there's no proof that werewolves exist."

"That's what scientists always say," Cassie insisted.