R. Stine - Werewolf Skin

“Ohhhhh…” I shook so hard, I let go of the camera case and hugged myself. Hugged myself tight, trying to hold myself in, trying to keep myself together.

The two figures howled again, raising their furry arms over their heads. Silvery claws slid out from their paws.

The two creatures raked the claws at each other playfully, pretending to attack. Growling and grunting, they lowered themselves to all fours.

No longer humans.

Animals… wolf creatures…

Hannah is right, I realized. She told the truth. The Marlings are werewolves. They turned into wolves under the moonlight.

Gasping for breath, I snatched up the camera case. I fumbled once again with the zipper. Finally managed to pull it open.

And they turned. They both turned toward me.

Two wolves!

Their dark eyes stared out from beneath fur-covered foreheads. Their furry snouts snapped open to reveal rows of curled animal teeth.

Werewolves. The Marlings were werewolves. Human and wolf at the same time!

The werewolves nuzzled each other, growling softly. I raised the camera. I pulled myself up to my knees.

I’ve got to snap a picture. Do it now, Alex! I ordered myself.

But my hands shook so badly, I wasn’t sure I could hold the camera steady enough.

Do it! Do it!

I raised the viewfinder to my eye. I stood up a little higher to see over the top of the bush.

“Ohhh.” As I raised myself, a sharp twig scraped the side of my face.

And I dropped the camera!

It landed on the grass with a THUD.

The two wolf creatures turned.

And saw me!

I sank to the ground. Pressed myself flat on my stomach.

My chest heaved. I breathed through my mouth, struggling to keep perfectly still, perfectly silent.

Did they see me? Did they?

I raised my head enough to peer out at them beneath the bottom branch of the bush.

They had their fur-covered snouts raised. They sniffed the air.

Did they smell me? Did they know I was hiding down here?

Were they about to leap into the bush and rip me apart with those long, silvery claws?

I held my breath, squinting across the grass at them.

They sniffed some more, grunting softly.

Then they turned away. Dropped to all fours. And loped off, heading to the woods.

I waited until I could no longer hear the soft thud of their paws or their low growls and grunts. Then I slid forward on my stomach, reached out, and grabbed my camera.

My camera!

I hadn’t snapped any photos. Not a single shot.

I climbed shakily to my feet and rubbed the wet dew from the lens. Then I raised my eyes to the woods.

I have to follow them, I decided.

I have to take some photos. This is the chance of a lifetime!

If I can take the first-ever shots of actual werewolves, I’ll be famous! I pictured myself in newspapers and on magazine covers. I imagined my photos of the Marlings on display in fancy photo galleries.

And I thought of how proud of me Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta would be.

That thought sent a chill down my back. Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta-they were working in the woods right now. Busy photographing animals of the night.

Did they know that two werewolves were on the loose? Did they know that two werewolves were prowling the woods, searching for victims?

They’re not safe out there, I realized.

Of course, following the werewolves into the woods was crazy-and dangerous. But now I had two reasons to chase after them.

I had to snap some pictures-and warn my aunt and uncle.

My eyes on the woods, I jammed the camera into the case and slung it over my shoulder. Then I began trotting across the backyard toward the trees, following the fresh paw prints in the frosty grass.

I ducked into the trees and followed the curving path. Moonlight trickled through the treetop leaves, making eerie, shifting patterns on the ground.

I didn’t have to go far to catch up with the two werewolves. Just past the bent, old-man tree, I heard an animal grunt. And then a shrill cry of attack.

I stopped-and peered through a low evergreen shrub. Mouths gaping open, claws raised, the two wolf creatures leaped.

They’ve caught someone! I realized, frozen in horror.

Who is it? My aunt? My uncle?

The two werewolves wrestled with their prey.

I heard a shrill bleat of pain. Then I saw four hooves shoot up in the air.

Not a human, I realized, squinting into the dim light. They’ve trapped a deer. A baby deer.

They’re going to kill it.

They’re going to tear it to shreds.

What can I do? I asked myself. How can I save it?

I didn’t think. I was too terrified to think clearly.

I tossed back my head. And I let out a loud wolf howl.

My cry echoed off the trees.

The snarling werewolves stopped their attack. They raised their heads.

They turned toward my cry.

Just long enough for the fawn to scramble to its feet. It shook itself-like a dog after a bath-and took off into the trees.

The werewolves sniffed the air furiously. They didn’t seem to notice that the fawn had escaped. Their eyes glowed red in the pale moonlight. They turned, uttering low, angry growls. Lowered their heads. And came charging at me.

I staggered back.

Too frightened to move.

No time to run.

The ground seemed to shake under the thunder of the wolves’ paws.

I opened my mouth to scream-but no sound came out.

The wolves’ jaws snapped. Their red eyes glowed as if on fire.

I raised my arms in front of me, as if to shield myself.

Prepared for the attack.

And the wolves turned away. Turned sharply to the right, running together.

A scrawny brown rabbit scrambled over the path.

The wolves had turned away from me to chase the rabbit!

Snarling furiously, they lowered their heads-and caught the rabbit easily.

The little creature didn’t put up much of a fight.

One wolf snapped its neck. The other bit hungrily into its belly.

Breathing hard, I swung my camera case around. And pulled the camera out with a quick jerk.

My hand trembled as I raised the viewfinder to my eye. But I steadied the camera with both hands.

And clicked off a shot.

And then another.

I snapped a shot of the wolves tugging the rabbit apart. And another shot of the two of them eating side by side.

When the wolves finished, nothing remained of the rabbit. Licking their teeth, they turned and loped off into the trees.

Holding my camera in front of me with both hands, I followed after them.

I guess I was in some kind of shock. I know I wasn’t thinking clearly.

I was barely thinking at all!

I had nearly been caught by the two werewolves. They would have finished me the way they’d finished that poor rabbit.

But I knew I had to follow them. I had to stay in the woods.

I had to warn my aunt and uncle. I had to find them and tell them they were wrong about the Marlings. That Hannah told the truth.

I had to let them know the danger they were in.

And I had to take more photographs.

I’d been through such a horrible scare. My heart pounded, and my arms and legs felt all trembly and weak. I didn’t feel like me. I felt as if I were outside myself, watching myself.

But I knew I couldn’t run back to the house. Not until my aunt and uncle were safe.

I kept pretty far behind the creatures, far enough that I could slip behind a tree or bush if one of them glanced back. And I kept my camera raised, ready to snap off shots.

They loped slowly to the creek. I watched them lower their heads and noisily lap up water.

They didn’t look at all human now. Their bodies had become wolf bodies. I couldn’t see anything human in their faces. Their glowing eyes were animal eyes.