R. Stine - Werewolf Skin

“I’m almost ready,” I replied. I gulped down a glass of orange juice. “When I was in the woods last night…” I started.

They both stared at me.

“I saw some animals that got ripped up. I mean, killed.”

Uncle Colin nodded. “The woods are dangerous at night,” he said softly.

“We really don’t want you out there at night, Alex,” Aunt Marta said. She pulled a piece of lint off the shoulder of my T-shirt. Then she tenderly brushed my hair back with her hand. “Promise us you won’t go again.”

“Promise,” I murmured.

“And promise that you’ll stay away from the Marlings,” my uncle added.

Before I could reply, the doorbell rang. Hannah came into the kitchen, weighted down under a bulging backpack. “Ready?” she asked.

I nodded and shoved my chair back from the table. “Yeah. I guess I’m ready,” I told her. “This is so weird. Going to someone else’s school.”

“You’ll like my teacher, Mr. Shein,” Hannah replied. “He’s very interesting. And he’s really nice.”

I grabbed my backpack and my jacket. We said good-bye to my aunt and uncle and headed out the front door.

I glanced at the Marlings’ house as we made our way to the street. The bedroom window at the side had been closed, I saw. The house was dark as always.

“Did you find your camera?” Hannah asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. But it wasn’t easy.” I told her about my scary adventures.

She tsk-tsked. “I warned you, Alex,” she said. “You wouldn’t catch me in the woods after dark.”

A yellow school bus rumbled past. Some kids in the bus called out the window to Hannah. She waved back to them.

The morning sun still floated low in the sky. A silvery frost clung to the lawns. The air felt crisp and cold.

“One more block to school,” Hannah said. “Are you nervous?”

I didn’t answer. I was thinking about the Marlings. I told Hannah about the howls I’d heard inside their house. “Uncle Colin says they have two German shepherds. Really big and really mean,” I told her.

“No, they don’t,” Hannah replied sharply.

I stopped walking. “Excuse me?” I cried.

“The Marlings don’t have any dogs,” she repeated. “I’ve lived here as long as they have, and I’ve never seen them.”

“Then why did my uncle tell me that?” I demanded.

“So you won’t be scared,” Hannah replied.

“I–I don’t understand,” I stammered. “If the Marlings don’t have dogs, what made those weird footprints outside their window?”

Hannah shook her head. Her olive-green eyes locked onto mine. “Alex, don’t you get it?” she cried. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Figured what out?” I asked.

“The Marlings are werewolves!” Hannah declared.

Why is everyone in Wolf Creek obsessed with werewolves? I wondered.

I laughed at Hannah and teased her the rest of the walk to school. I mean, how could anyone actually believe in werewolves today?

“You’re only trying to scare me,” I told her. “But I don’t scare easily-remember? I saw one of the German shepherds. It was howling in the Marlings’ window.”

Hannah shrugged. “Believe what you want to believe,” she murmured.

“Don’t try to scare me with werewolves anymore,” I told her.

But I had a surprise when we arrived at school. Even Mr. Shein, the sixth-grade teacher, wanted to talk about werewolves all morning!

He was about forty, short, and chubby, with thinning brown hair and thick black eyeglasses perched on his round pink face. He wore a yellow sweater that made him resemble a ripe pear.

But Hannah was right. He was very nice. Very friendly. He welcomed me eagerly and introduced me to the other sixth graders, and really made me feel at home.

He assigned me a seat near the door in back. Hannah sat in the front row.

I spotted Sean and Arjun near the windows on the other side of the classroom. They nodded, but didn’t say hi or anything.

They both looked rumpled and kind of tired. Their baggy clothes were very wrinkled. Their hair was wild. They look as if they’d been up all night, I thought.

Weird thought…

After taking attendance and making a few announcements, Mr. Shein sat on the edge of his desk. His eyes traveled around the room. He waited for us to settle down.

“Does anyone know what the study of lycanthropy is?” he asked. Behind his glasses, his dark eyes glowed.

I had never heard the word. But to my surprise, several hands shot up. He called on Arjun.

“It’s about people changing into wolves,” Arjun said.

“Werewolves!” Sean exclaimed.

Mr. Shein nodded. “Yes. Werewolves,” he repeated. “That’s what lycanthropy is the study of.” He cleared his throat. “Since Halloween comes later this week, I thought we might spend some time discussing lycanthropy.”

“There is going to be a full moon on Halloween night this year!” a tall, athletic-looking boy interrupted.

“Yes, there is,” Mr. Shein agreed. “Many people believe a full moon is needed to bring the werewolf to life-but they are wrong. Although a werewolf’s powers do grow stronger as the moon grows fuller.”

Crossing his legs, he leaned back and began to talk. He explained how the werewolf legends began over two hundred years ago in Europe. A normal person, bitten by a werewolf, becomes a werewolf himself when moonlight shines on him.

“It is a curse that cannot be removed,” Mr. Shein said, speaking in a low, steady voice. Trying to sound spooky. “No matter how much he tries to live a normal life, a man inflicted with the curse turns into a wolf under the light of the moon.”

“Girls too?” Hannah asked.

Some kids giggled.

“Yes. Girls too,” the teacher answered seriously.

“The werewolf must rage and howl,” Mr. Shein continued. “And prowl the woods or forest in search of victims.”

“Cool!” a red-haired boy in front of me muttered.

Everyone laughed.

“At daybreak, the werewolves must shed their wolf skin,” the teacher explained. “They return to human form. They must hide their wolf skin until the next night. They must hide the skin in a safe place. Because if someone takes the werewolf’s skin and burns it… the werewolf will die.”

“Cool!” the red-haired boy repeated.

More laughter. Kids started talking excitedly.

It took a while for Mr. Shein to quiet everyone. He jumped to his feet, pulled down his yellow sweater, and paced in front of the chalkboard.

“Does anyone in this class believe that werewolves really exist?” he asked.

I snickered. I didn’t think any kids would raise their hands.

But to my surprise, every single hand in the room shot up.

“You all believe in werewolves!” Mr. Shein declared.

“Yes, we do,” I heard Arjun murmur softly.

“Yes, we do,” Sean repeated.

I turned and realized they were both staring hard at me.

I felt a sudden chill. What is their problem? I wondered. Why are they acting so weird?

After school, Sean and Arjun came up to me at the back of the classroom. Outside the room, lockers slammed. The tile walls echoed with shouts and laughter.

The two guys studied me solemnly. “What’s up?” I greeted them, zipping my backpack.

Mr. Shein waved and walked out, carrying a bulging briefcase. The three of us were alone in the room.

“How’s it going?” Sean asked.

“Is it weird being in a new school?” Arjun said.

“Yeah. Kind of,” I told them. “Especially since I know I’m only here for a few weeks.”

“You’re lucky!” Arjun joked. “Sean and I are stuck here.”

“Wolf Creek isn’t so bad,” I said. I swung the backpack onto my shoulder.