<html>
<head>
<meta name="generator" content="Corel WordPerfect 10">
<meta http-equiv="content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">
<style>
p
{
margin-top: 0px;
margin-bottom: 1px
}
body
{
font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;
font-size: 12pt;
font-weight: normal;
font-style: normal
}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>Chapter 1</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"> </span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif">My name is William Harold Smythe and this is the story of how I became one of
last true immortals. My life began in the year of our lord 1747, on March the fourth, on
a small farm outside of Trenton, New Jersey. I was the fifth son of a wheat farmer
named Caleb Smythe. My father was a second-generation immigrant when his father
brought his pregnant wife over to the New World from Surrey, England to make a better
life for his family. Grandfather died of a heart attack after my sister Sarah was born and
Grandmother Smythe lasted only another year or so after his passing. Father worked
the fields from sun-up to sundown, along with my older brothers; Samuel, Nathaniel,
Martin, and Steven. Yes, I was the baby of the family, though Sarah was born five
years before me and was my mother’s pride and joy. As the weeks passed and
became months, I learned to crawl then walk and finally talk. Once I started talking no
one in the family could get me to stop. They always referred to me as the chatterbox
and if they yelled at me to be silent, I just kept going as if nothing was said. As the
years passed I grew into the spitting image of my grandfather, black hair that shown
almost blue and sea green eyes, though a little taller than he was at the end of his life.
At the age of fifteen I started growing taller and ended up at the height of six feet four
inches. Because of the work that I did on the farm I developed strong, lean muscles
that belied my true strength. By the time I reached eighteen I was trapping and hunting
in the forest surrounding our home, so we had fresh meat every few days.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>It all started on a crisp April morning, a Sunday if memory serves me correctly, I
had risen with the sun and dressed quickly to start my chores. Poppa was working in
the fields already, tending to the matters of various pests. I walked down the familiar
stairs of my home, hearing the clinking, hustle and bustle of breakfast being made. As I
walked into the kitchen, Mother scolds me for sleeping so late, though I know she is
only teasing me, as is her custom to do so.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Morning Momma.” I said with a small smile.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Good morning sleepyhead. What are your plans for today?” asked Samantha.
Samantha Smythe was always a chipper sort of woman with a pleasant sense of
humor.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Well, after I finish my chores Martin and I will be going into the forest to hunt.”
He had prepared his hunting rifle and all of their supplies the night before.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Be careful, William. You know I don’t like you going into that particular forest to
hunt. You’ve heard the rumors, same as I have. Something is very queer about those
woods.” Samantha said as she hugged her son. The fabric of her homespun dress
always felt scratchy against his skin.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Yes, Momma. I always am and you know it.” I stated. After I ate my breakfast
of porridge my siblings decided now was the time to make an entrance. I cleared my
bowl from the table as everyone was murmuring good morning to each other. I told
Martin to hurry up but my older brother told me that </span><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">‘Rome wasn’t built in a day.’</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"> I rolled
my eyes at him, as was my custom, whenever he tried to impart little pearls of wisdom
to me or anyone else.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>As I walked outside onto the front porch I called out good morning to Poppa, to
which he waved from the golden field. A few more weeks and the wheat would be
ready for harvesting, then we would rotate other crops in it’s’ place. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>‘Better get started on my chores.’ I thought.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I made my way to our chicken coop, checked on their water, threw a little feed on
the ground outside the coop but still inside the fenced area for the chickens. They all
ran out of the coop to get to the feed first, and while they were feeding, I managed to
scoop out all the dropping with a shovel before they were finished. The chickens
seemed a little off today for some reason, they were acting very strange. I just couldn’t
put my finger on what was off. Anyhow, I headed towards the barn to move a few
bundles of hay. I’ve been putting it off for a few days and Pa would take his belt to me if
I didn’t get it done today, before I left. Ten bundles of hay, weighing about thirty pounds
apiece, tied in sturdy twine, by the time I was done moving them I was lightly covered in
sweat. I then hear Martin calling my name so I hollered back that I’d be there soon. I
ran out of the barn as soon as I was finished with my chores. Martin was standing on
the porch with his rifle and his rucksack full of supplies for our expedition. I looked
around the porch and didn’t see my things.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Marty, where is my stuff?” I asked my brother.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Do I look like your body servant? Get your things yourself.” Martin said smartly.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I stomped back into the house, letting the door slam behind me.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Don’t slam the door William!” My mother exclaimed.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I cringed inwardly; her yelling was like sharp nails on a chalkboard. I quietly
walked back up to my room and gathered his gear. I gathered my flintlock rifle,
gunpowder, paper wadding, lead ammunition, hunting knife, bedroll, and a few
blankets. </span></p>
<br>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">‘I’d only need the last two if Martin decided to camp out in the forest.’ William
thought.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">Martin was in charge of packing other supplies for a few meals and some
bandages in case one of us got hurt. I stuffed my gear in my rucksack, which had seen
better days, and carried my rifle over my shoulder. The early morning sun streamed
through the dust covered window. His small bed sat along the wall, the duck feathered
mattress showed the odd feather poking through here and there. I rushed out of my
room and clipped my elbow on the doorframe as I passed. Martin was still smirking
when I finally made it out the door. As I passed him I jabbed him firmly in the ribs. We
started walking towards the forest, as we passed poppa we waved at him.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“You boys be careful. Martin, mind your brother while you’re in those woods.”
Caleb called out to his sons.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Yes, Poppa.” replied Martin.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">I just rolled my eyes at Martin; he was such a suck up at times. We started off
again and soon we left our fields behind as we neared the edge of the forest. Tall pine
trees made up much of the woods near their home, of course there are oak and birch
trees sprinkled throughout the woods but the pine trees with their coarse bark
dominated the landscape. Brown-orange pine needles littered the ground everywhere
they looked and small undergrowth made their way very difficult. After walking for an
hour, they found a small clearing.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Martin, I think this is as good a place as any to wait. It’s only a matter of time
before something comes here to graze or forage for food.” I said. </span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">Martin agreed with me. Besides, if we went any further it would take us longer to
get back home carrying our meat and equipment. I took off my rucksack and laid it
near the base of an old oak tree. I made my self as comfortable as possible against my
rucksack and waited. Martin found a nice spot behind a pine tree, about fifteen feet
away. I took my rifle and started to prepare for the prey to come. I half cocked the
striker on my rifle and loaded a small amount of gunpowder in the chamber through he
muzzle. I then loaded my paper-covered ammunition down the spiral barrel chamber
with a ramrod to make use it went in all the way. I then prime the flash pan with a bit of
fine gunpowder and then set the striker to full cocked. When that was done I looked
over at Martin, to see that he was just finishing loading his own rifle.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">‘And now we wait.’ William thought.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">The minutes seemed to tick by slowly, the birds chirped off in the distance,
crickets were singing on a nearby log. Waiting was the worse part of hunting, there was
nothing to distract you while you wait. Soon, I began to get tired. I tried in vain to keep
my eyes open but it is a losing battle. I finally gave out and nod off. The sound of a
twig snapping brought me wake almost instantly. I looked over at Martin and saw he
was awake too. I picked up my rifle and checked the clearing. There in the middle
were five deer, two bucks with twelve point antlers, one adult female, and two little baby
deer’s. I motioned Martin with my free hand and indicated the two bucks as targets. He
nodded his head and pointed to the one on the right for himself and then pointed at the
left one for me. I nodded briefly, raised my flintlock, and sighted the left most deer. I
was aiming at its chest while I slowed my breathing and steadied my rifle. My vision
narrowed until all I saw was the buck I was aiming at and counted to ten silently. I
closed my eyes at the last second and pulled the trigger. The lead ball fired perfectly
from my rifle and struck the buck right in the chest. I heard a second shot half a second
later and noted that Martin’s buck staggered then fell. My buck was no better; it just
dropped instead of staggering. The other deer ran as soon as the first shot was fired
and vanished into the surrounding woods. I got up from my hiding place and slowly
walked towards my kill. I kept away from it for fifteen minutes, just to make sure it was
done with its death throes. I looked up through the trees noticing that it was getting
late.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Martin, I think we’ll need to spend the night here. It took nearly an hour to get
here through unmanageable underbrush and pricker brushes. Plus we got two bucks to
carry back with us.”</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Yeah Willie, your right. I’ll set up camp and you field dress the carcasses. I’m
going to go look for some dry fire wood.”</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Fine. Don’t wander too far though. You might get lost.” I said sarcastically.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">“Can’t hide behind mother’s apron now, can you little brother? You don’t want
me to thump you now.” Martin said with a little laugh and walked off to find some
firewood. </span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">He came back five minutes later carrying a large bundle of wood. While he was
setting up the fire I dressed the deer as best I could. They should be fine until
tomorrow. I unrolled my bedroll and laid two blankets on top and pulled the corner of
one blanket over for later. Martin was starting to prepare dinner, some beef jerky, a few
rolls of bread, and four pieces of peppermint sticks for later. We ate our dinner in
relative silence and sucked on the peppermint sticks before turning in. As soon as the
covers were over me I was asleep like a log. I had no dreams that night, just a peaceful
sleep where time didn’t matter. Suddenly I awoke, not quite sure what had woken me.
I didn’t move out of my covers but I did listen to my surroundings. Something was
stalking our camp, by the sound of it was big. I risked looking over at Martin to see him
already awake, looking into the woods, trying to find whatever it was that stalking them.
I locked eyes with Martin and arched my eyebrow, indicating that I was up to something.
He shook his head no but it was too late to stop now. I reached for my hunting knife,
pulled it from the sheath and gripped it firmly in my left hand, the blade turn under my
forearm. I hoped to keep it hidden until Martin could load his gun. I heard a branch
snap closer to the camp, directly behind me.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">‘Crap, why me?’ I thought.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">Like a flash I was up and turned towards the sound I heard. I strained my eyes,
hoping to see where the hell it was. The next thing I know a large blur of fur shoots out
of the woods faster than lightning striking the ground. Before me drew up the largest
animal I had ever seen. It was at least seven feet tall, brown fur covering its body from
head to toe. The only thing that I could compare it to was a wolf, though not like any
wolf I’ve ever seen. It stood on two legs and had a human like body, the rest was pure
wolf. Its muzzle held razor sharp teeth, at least half an inch long. It paws or hands had
stubby fingers with razor sharp claws almost an inch long. Then I noticed its face,
which held an almost human intelligence and had a mane of shaggy hair topped off with
two pointed ears on the top of its head. The eyes held me for the slightest moment, the
color of the sky on a bright sunny day.</span></p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"> </p>
<p style="text-indent: 0.5in"><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">The growl was what brought me out of my investigation; it was showing hostility
towards me and my brother. I acted before it was too late. I charged the beast and
swung my left arm out in a wide arch catching the creature off guard. My knife slashed
the beast across the chest, leaving a small river of blood dripping down its fur. That got
it mad. The beast lunged and snapped its jaws, enclosing my arm in a forest of sharp
teeth. Its jaws tighten on my arm, breaking with a sickening wet snap. I screamed in
agony as stars exploded behind my eyes. I heard a gun going off and the beast
released its grip on my arm. It staggered back a few feet and once it got it’s wits about
it the beast renewed its attack. My left arm lay at my side, bloody and useless, my knife
laid on the ground in front of me. I reached for my knife, picked it up and stabbed the
creature with all of my might under the jaw, driving the knife right into its brain. It pawed
at the knife trying to grasp it for a few fleeting moments, then fell forward and stopped
moving. I moved forward, grasped the handle of the knife, and yanked it free of the
beast. Once I had my knife everything went black and fell to the ground. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">________________________________________________________________</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"> </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">I was dreaming, the most vivid dream that I have ever had. I was dressed in old
clothes, wearing a tall hat with a gold buckle on it. I was siting in a chair in what
appeared to be a formal meetinghouse or church. Before me were seven people, the
village council or elders. Their ages ranged from late thirties to early seventies and
were all male. They were all dressed in black robes and had adored, white wigs upon
their heads, as a sign of their office. I was beginning to feel nervous as I looked at
these grim looking men sitting behind a large table facing me. One from the middle of
the table stood up and cleared his throat in order to speak.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Benjamin, you have been charge with witchcraft, consorting with minions of the
devil, and for bringing this darkness into our fair town of Salem. Do thou have anything
to say in your defense?” Said one of the men.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I stood up slowly, taking my time before answering, though I had no idea why
these people were calling me Benjamin. I was thinking of ways to stall them, when I
suddenly started to speak against my own aversion. </span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“I have done nothing of the sort. Who here has accused me?” </span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>An old man at the end of the table spoke up.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“The widow Parkins claims that she saw you three nights passed, in the pale
light of the full moon, and watched as you changed form into that of a wolf beast. We
know that is one sign of witchcraft, shape shifting, and witchcraft comes from
communion with the devil, there fore you are guilty of the crime of witchcraft and
consorting with the devil. You have sinned Benjamin, against God himself and only he
can grant you salvation. Admit to your crimes and we shall make your death as
painless as possible. If you don’t, well then we will make you suffer unimaginable
agony until you die of a slow death.”</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“What say you?” asked the first man.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I took a slow steady breath, while on the inside I was afraid of what would
happen, but I gathered my courage and stood as straight as I could and replied.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“My answer is this gentle sirs; fuck you. I do not recognize you as lawful elders
of this community and there fore you cannot judge for these so called crimes.”</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>There were gasps from behind me and I heard the sudden thudding of bodies
hitting the floor. The old men in front of me singled to two strapping young man-boys to
take hold of me but I did not fight their grasp.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“For your insolence Benjamin, you shall be marked as a witch, and then burned
at the stake tonight, where you wither in the fires of hell for all to see.” Replied the old
man again.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>The seen slowly faded and became nighttime. There was a huge stake
surrounded by old logs, which they’re being covered in pitch and oil. The entire town
was there to see me burn. Vendors were going here and there selling their wares to
the crowed spectators, making a profit off my death. Soon they marched me out of the
town hall, shackled by my wrists and ankles, towards thew stake. The town council
was standing in front of the stake waiting for my arrival. The blacksmith came forth with
a branding iron, glowing brightly in the night like a star. The iron held the emblem of the
witch, which was a huge star inside of a circle. My guard forced my hand open and the
blacksmith branded my right hand, throughout the entire process I did not scream nor
did I make a sound. My forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat and I was re-shackled to the stake. I noticed that clouds covered the night sky and wish one last
time to see the moon in all her glory.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"></span></i><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 10pt"><span> </span></span>“Benjamin,” started one of the council members,”you have been found guilty of
Witchcraft and have of consorting with the devil. The town council of Salem,
Massachusetts has sentence you to death, to burn at the stake.” With that one of the
council members threw down a lit torch.<span style="font-size: 10pt"></span></span></i></p>
<br>
<p><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"><span style="font-size: 10pt"></span></span></i><i><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>Flames leapt up the logs and started to consume them, I could smell the sickly
sweet smell of the pitch burning beneath me. The flames soon spread and started to
burn my cloths and me. I struggled against my bonds and started to scream, which turn
into a roar of fury. All of the townspeople cringed back from the stake and watch in
horror as I began to change. The sounds of clothes tearing and bones popping out of
place only to be rearranged into a different position. I looked up and saw the moon
breaking through the cloud cover and its rays shone directly on me. The crowd scream
in horror as I change from a human to a werewolf of lore. It was easy enough to snap
my bonds, like dried out kindling. I leapt down from the stake and tore through the
nearby council members with my razor sharp claws. Before the rest of the towns
people knew what was going on, I rush out of the square leaving behind a trail of death
and destruction in my wake. Never to be by these pathetic people again.</span></i></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif">________________________________________________________________</span></p>
<br>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I shot straight up in bed and began screaming at the top of my lungs that is when
I felt many hands trying to restrain me. I thrashed in bed for a good ten minutes,
cursing and swearing at those around me. I managed to throw someone a good five
feet from me. The next thing I know I’m strapped down to my bed and its early
morning, judging from the light shining through my window. I look down to see that I’m
restrained with belts. I try to move but the belts would not budge, so I quit trying to
move. I look to my left and see my father sitting next to my bed, sound asleep with
bags under his eyes. I did not expect him to have his gun in his lap though.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Pop, what going on?” I ask. That seemed to wake him up and he eyed me
wearily, like I was going to eat him whole or something.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“William, how are you feeling? You had us sacred there for a while.” Pa said.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Well,” I stopped and searched for how I felt and then I realized I felt really great
for some reason. “I feel really good, but the last thing I remember was being attacked
by a wolf.” I decided to leave out the part about the wolf being a complete monster.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“That’s what Martin said. He dragged you out of the forest by himself and in the
dark too. He is lucky he found his way home at all. It must have been a big wolf by the
size of the bite marks. Nathaniel and Steven went and retrieved the deer, they were
perfectly fine so don’t worry about it. Though they didn’t find the wolf’s carcass, strange
really, you’d think the deer carcasses would have been drug off by a predator and not
the wolf’s. You’ve been asleep for three days with a high fever, you’ve been rambling
on and off since you got back, then you started cursing and hitting everything within
reach. You threw Samuel across the room.” Pa said.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Can you let me up then?” I asked. He untied me and I sprang out of bed like a
leaf on the wind. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"> </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>The next few weeks were the best of my life, everything seemed sharper in my
eyes and I could hear a pin drop in the kitchen from my bedroom. I went through my
chores quicker then my siblings and they started to notice a change in me, like I had
this cloak of confidence wrapped around me at all times. While I was alone I noticed
that I was almost three times stronger than before and all of my senses were
remarkably heightened to the point like they were those of an animal. Then everything
took a turn for the worse, as the entire family went to the nearest town for supplies and
to visit friends of the family in Burlington. It took us better part of a day to reach
Burlington by horse drawn wagon. The Barnes were a family of sweet-hearted people,
shorter then my sister at 5’5, but sweet hearted none the less. All of the young people
hung out and talked most of the day and went to a church carnival to enjoy ourselves to
our fullest. We laughed and ate to our hearts content and they began the campfire
tales of wicked witches and creatures of the night under the cloudy sky. Old man
MacClintock was sitting at the place of honor in front of the bonfire, preparing to tell his
last story of the evening, usually his best. The locals said that his ending story was
always the best, but never the same one twice.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Gather ‘round, gather ‘round little ones, for this is the last story for tonight. Your
wondering what it will be about. Witches, warlocks, demons within the woods, shape
shifters, evil kings, grand wizards, fairy princesses, but what shall it be?” the old man
wheezed out.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>He sat there scratching his bearded chin, a picture perfect image of
contemplation. Then he clapped his hands in a gesture of supreme pleasure, as a
broad grin spread across his face.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“This years’ story is about a man, cursed forever to live his life in the light as a
man, while in the darkness he walked the path of the beast.” Old man MacClintock
went on for an hour, describing the most pained filled story about this man who is curse
to take the shape of a wolf in the night. The man was killed in the end by a silver
handled cane and was buried in a shallow grave filled with wolf’s bane. Everyone
screamed when one of the parents came running up to the fire wearing a home made
mask and howled like a dog. I laughed at these antics and remembered them from my
childhood. As everyone was getting up, I felt the strangest sensation rippling all over
my body, starting from my toes to the very top of my hair. I looked about; trying to
discern what was causing this, and notice my shadow on the ground.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>‘What’s this?’ I thought to myself.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I was acting like a fool and realized it was just moon light. I slowly looked up into
the cloudy sky and saw the moon trying to peek through the cloud cover. After a minute
the moon finally came into plain view and my body was locked in its place, unable to
move feeling the blood pumping through my veins. Soon I was able to hear my
heartbeat, and then other heartbeats joined mine. I realized I was hearing the
heartbeats of those around me. I felt myself start to change as I stared directly into the
moon. My two upper and lower canine teeth elongated, my skin was aflame like it was
covered with ants, my bones start to grow and shift. I heard screams throughout the
campsite; one of them was my own. The sound of tearing cloth was in my ears, as my
face changed into a muzzle and my hands became claw like. The scent of unwashed
bodies came to my nose, along with the pungent odor of fear. I look down and see dark
fur sprouting all over my body, the same as the color of my hair, except an area across
my chest that had a diagonal silver swath. I looked around and saw all of the people
running in all directions and began to fear what I might be. But something didn’t seem
right to me. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>‘From all of the stories I’ve heard, were-creatures are supposed to be mindless
minions of the devil. Evil through and through. Yet I don’t feel evil. I still feel like me,
except different. Powerful even.’ I thought.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I started to walk and almost stumbled. I looked down and saw the ruin tatters of
my shoes and other clothing. I kicked off the remains of my shoes and flex the toes of
my paws and started to run. I slowed down looking at everything with new eyes. I saw
my father, not far off, trying to rouse some woman that had fainted. I approached
slowly not wanting to startle him. He spun around suddenly, his eyes wide with
astonishment.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Stay back foul beast!” he shouted.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Father, please.” I spoke for the first time since the change. My voice sounded
hoarse and gravelly.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“William, my son. What has happened to you?” My father said with tears
running down his face.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“It’s still me, papa. I’m just different now, but I’m still your son on the inside.” I
said pleadingly.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“I know that, my boy. But you can’t come home again. Word of this will spread
like wildfire and the local church followers will come looking for you at home with
torches, pitchforks, and flintlocks. They’ll kill you, after their done torturing you in some
damnable witch trial. I love you son, now go before they gather in force.” My father
was openly crying now and turn his back on my. I stood their unable to move for a
minute.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>“Good bye father, I love you all.” I whispered. And with that I ran off into the
woods. Leaping over large tree falls, dodging large predators here and there. In the
distance I heard the baying of hunting dogs and the sent of pitch torches wafted on the
breeze. I kept running in the direction that I thought was east, towards the morning sun.
Once in a while I would cross streams, small rivers, and cut across fields when I came
upon them. Soon the sound of the dogs fell behind as I headed deeper into the forest,
as the moon started to sink behind me. Two hours later I came upon a small creek and
I stopped to rest and drink my fill. I lapped at the water with my tongue, causing ripples
to spread out in the running water. Once they settled, I saw my new face for the first
time. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>‘Not bad. Still have my green eyes though.’ I thought.</span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>I reached up and scratched my pointed ears, which had shifted near the top of
my head. I noticed then that I still had my hunting knife attached to my belt. I touched
the knife with one stubby, padded finger. I drew myself out of my revelry and started to
run again. Hours melted together and soon the sky began to turn a deep blue with the
beginning of the rising sun. Soon I found my self-standing at the base of a small
mountain that bordered a rather large valley. It was a steep climb, which I did on either
two legs or four that seem completely natural. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>‘Those stories must be wrong. I don’t feel evil at all, just free and powerful.
Well, according to the church, if it feels good, it must be wrong or evil.’ I mused. </span></p>
<br>
<p><span style="font-family: 'Arial', sans-serif"><span> </span>All too soon I found a small cave niche in the side of the mountain faces towards
the inside of the valley. As the sun peeked out from the horizon, I felt myself change
and when I looked down I was ‘normal’ again. I crawled into the cave and laid down on
the rocky, uneven surface. After a few minutes of staring out into the new morning
light, I drifted off into a deep sleep. Sweet darkness greeted me and I was at peace.
Who knows what the new day could bring.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif"></span></span></p>
</body>
</html>