R. Stine - Werewolf Skin

I’m lost, I realized.

I gazed up at the sky. No moon. The heavy rain clouds covered the moon and stars.

How do I get back? I squinted into the darkness, searching for the path. Searching for anything I might recognize.

Nothing.

If I could find the creek, maybe I could find the spot where I found my camera, I decided.

But which direction was the creek?

I was completely turned around.

I shivered. A cold raindrop spattered on the shoulder of my jacket.

I jumped. That bird’s nest had made me terrified of things falling from the sky!

What should I do?

My mind whirred frantically with ideas.

Should I call out for help? Shout to my aunt and uncle? Maybe if I called loud enough, they would hear me.

But, no. If I shout, the animal-the snarling creature-will hear me first.

Was it still searching for me? Was it still nearby?

I decided I’d better not call for help.

What should I do? What?

Start walking in one direction? And just keep going no matter what?

No. I remembered a book I’d read where a guy was lost in the desert. And he tried walking in a straight line. And he just made circles. He went around and around and didn’t even realize it until he saw his own footprints in the sand!

Maybe I should wait until the sun comes up, I decided. I’ll never find my way in this darkness. When it’s daylight, I’ll have a much better chance.

I didn’t like the idea of spending the night in the woods. But waiting here until I could see where I was going seemed like a good idea.

But then I heard a clattering sound. And felt the rain start to pound down hard. A freezing rain, swept by gusting wind.

I can’t stay here, I realized.

I have to get back to the house.

I walked and walked, trying to retrace my steps. I sighed with relief when I finally came to the clump of bushes where I’d hid. I found the flashlight and gripped it tightly in my free hand.

I took a guess on which direction to go next.

Ducking my head against the rain, I started to walk again.

Less than a minute later, I stumbled over something.

Something soft.

I landed on my knees. Turned back to see what I had tripped over.

And let out a cry of horror.

The flashlight trembled in my hand. The quivering light revealed an ugly picture.

I gaped down at an animal body. No. Two.

Two animals.

What were they? I couldn’t tell. They’d been clawed to pieces.

Completely ripped apart.

I remembered the ripping sounds I’d heard. The sounds of these animals being torn apart. My stomach lurched.

What kind of animal did this?

What kind of animal was strong enough to tear other creatures apart?

A chill ran down my back.

I pulled myself to my feet. I forced myself to look away.

The rain poured down. I shielded my camera case under my jacket-and started to run again.

I had to get away from that ugly sight. Would I ever be able to forget it?

The wind whipped the rain around me. I felt as if I were running through ocean waves. But I couldn’t stop.

My fear kept me running.

That fierce creature still lurked in these woods. Still growled and hunted, somewhere nearby.

My sneakers were soaked. I slipped and slid in the soft mud.

I’m not sure how long I ran. I stopped when I nearly ran right into the creek. Pounded by the rain, it splashed over its low bank.

I turned and followed it, feeling a little more confident. After a while, I spotted a narrow path cut through the tilting trees.

I turned onto the path. Would it lead me out of the woods? I had to try it.

The rain slowed to a soft patter. My sneakers sank deep into the mud as I trotted along the curving path.

Soon I came to the bent, old-man tree.

“Yes!” I cried out loud. “Yes!” I waved my fist triumphantly in the air. I was almost home.

I picked up my pace. A few minutes later, I burst out of the woods, into my aunt and uncle’s backyard.

I was so happy! I wanted to fly!

I couldn’t wait to get into the warm house. To pull off my soaked clothes and get into something dry.

But I stopped in the middle of the backyard.

And stared into the circle of yellow light from my flashlight.

Stared down at the strange footprints in the wet grass.

Deep, rutted footprints heading into the Marlings’ backyard.

I bent into the light to see them better. They weren’t human footprints. They were too long and too wide and shaped differently from human feet or shoes.

Animal footprints.

Keeping the beam of light in front of me, I trailed the footprints, following them over the grass.

Across the Marlings’ weed-choked backyard.

I stopped when I saw where the strange footprints led.

Right up to the Marlings’ open bedroom window.

When I came into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, Aunt Marta was on the phone. She stood at the counter with her back to me. But she turned as I said good morning to my uncle, and flashed me an angry look.

“Yes, I understand,” she said into the phone. “Well, it won’t happen again.”

I took my place at the table beside Uncle Colin. He sipped from a white coffee mug, his eyes on Aunt Marta.

“It won’t happen again,” my aunt repeated into the phone. She frowned. “I’ll make sure he stays away. No. He wasn’t spying on you, Mr. Marling.”

So that’s who she was talking to.

Uncle Colin shook his head unhappily. “I warned you not to go near that place, Alex,” he said. “We don’t need those people calling over here.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. “But-”

I wanted to tell him about last night, about everything that had happened to me and everything I’d seen.

But he raised a finger to his lips, motioning for me to be silent while my aunt was on the phone.

“No. My nephew wasn’t taking pictures of your house, Mr. Marling,” Aunt Marta continued. She rolled her eyes. “I promise. He won’t bother you again. I’ll talk to him right now. Yes. Okay. Good-bye.”

She set down the receiver and turned to Uncle Colin with a sigh. “Those people,” she murmured.

“We have to be careful,” Uncle Colin replied, narrowing his eyes at me. “We don’t want to get them worked up.”

“But-but-” I sputtered. “I saw things-”

“They saw you, Alex,” my aunt interrupted. “They saw you prowling around their house late last night. They are very angry about it.”

She poured herself a mug of coffee and came over to the table. She sat down and swept a strand of gray hair off her forehead.

“What were you doing outside last night?” my uncle asked.

“I’m really sorry. But I had no choice. I left my camera out in the woods,” I explained. “I had to run out and get it. I couldn’t leave it out all night-especially with the rain.”

“But you didn’t have to go near the Marlings’ house-did you?” Aunt Marta demanded.

“I–I heard animal howls from inside their house!” I blurted out. “And I saw strange footprints going up to the bedroom window at the side.”

Uncle Colin nodded calmly. He took a long sip of coffee. “The footprints were probably from their dogs,” he said, glancing at Aunt Marta.

“Dogs?” I cried.

They both nodded. “They have two huge German shepherds,” my aunt explained. “Mean as they come.”

“And as big as wolves,” Uncle Colin added, shaking his head. He reached for a slice of toast and began to butter it.

I sighed. I felt a little better.

Two German shepherds. That explained the howls and the footprints in the wet grass.

“Are you ready for school?” Aunt Marta asked. “Hannah will be here any minute.”