Hairwolf

Ralf and Stef walk along the paved road bordered by tall fields of grass. A single street light shines down over a crossroad just ahead. In the fields, fireflies illuminate the blanket of moisture laying across the tall grasses. Stef runs out into the field, yelling to Ralf, “Come on, Ralf. Catch a firefly.”

Ralf trails behind, clenching his stomach. She notices as he slowly approaches.

“Your stomach again?”

He nods. She reaches for his forehead. “At least you don’t have a fever.”

“What happened back there, Stef?”

“Back where?”

“At the table. With my mom.”

“I don’t know. Come on. I want to catch fireflies.”

Suddenly a loud hissing sound escapes from the field startling them both. It’s all around them. Ralf pulls her in close to his side. But she wants to investigate. He looks for the source through

the darkness, cautious, and concerned.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s find out what it is.”

“Don’t move!”

She loves this excitement. It’s the unknowing of something she doesn’t know. These are fun times, the ones she lives for. She knows there’s probably a logical explanation that will soon be revealed, but then it won’t be as much fun. Watching Ralf be really scared is fun too. She’s not afraid. She’s invigorated, curious and biting at the leash. She wants to go. He pulls her close, cautioning her. “Don’t move,” he whispers.

“I want to know what it is,” she says.

The hissing spits and sputters.

“It sounds like rattle snakes, doesn’t it?” she says, looking at the grass all around her.

“Too cold for rattle snakes,” he says. This is much bigger.”

It’s clear that he knows something she doesn’t. “What is it, Ralf? Come on, tell me.”

“You have to promise not to tell a soul.”

Just then, powerful jets of water shoot out from various nozzles of a vast sprinkler system.

“Damn it!” Ralf proclaims. “Friggin sprinklers. Scared the hell out of me. Shit!”

Stef screams with laughter and races out of the field, dodging all the sprinkler jets. Ralf runs after her, but much slower. He enters the road, drenched. Stef looks at him and laughs. She

removes her coat and wipes his hair and face dry.

“What’d you do, aim for every single sprinkler jet?”

“Apparently.” He holds his stomach, trying to sooth his discomfort.

“Come on. I’ll walk you back home,” she offers.

“No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He rises slowly but the pain is worsening.

“That’s it,” Stef says, watching him.

“No. I’m walking you.”

“No!” she says, forcefully. “You’re going to go back home.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stay here until you’re out of sight, then I’ll go home.”

“Alright. I’ll call as soon as I get home.”

He looks around into the dark night. He doesn’t like the idea, and tries to stand back up but the pain is too great. He sits back down. “I’ll watch from here.”

“I’ll take the tractor road, pass the rack-body wreck. I’ll be home in a few minutes. The fireflies will keep me company.”

He’s very reluctant, but has no choice.

“I’ll be fine,” Stef says.

She says goodbye and walks off, looking back at him frequently. As she approaches the tractor trail, she turns to wave, but he’s gone. That was fast. She continues on, hopeful he’s okay.

She enters the tractor trail through the field. She likes this path. It’s familiar. Plus the grass has been worn down over the years from the tractor. She stays on the high side because it allows better viewing over the tall grass.

As she tracks along, the fireflies light up her path. Not that she needs it, the light from the full moon is more than enough. Soon she’ll be home and calling Ralf.

She hums along with the choir of crickets. But soon she realizes she’s the only one humming. “That’s odd. Where’d they all go?”

She stops and listens. It’s total silence. Then she notices the fireflies are disappearing as well. This could only mean one thing. A predator is in the area. Probably a coyote or a fox. As far as she knows, there aren’t any bears but she doesn’t know for sure. She needs to be cautious.

As she walks along, the breeze combs gently over the tall grass. It’s comforting and eerie at the same time. Not a minute ago she had all this company and now she’s alone. Or is she? There’s a reason the critters scattered. She keeps looking over her shoulder just in case.

She senses something is following her and stops to listen. Nothing. She continues on becoming more and more alert as well as curious. She hears it again. This time it’s close; closer

than she’d like. Things are getting just a little too weird out here for her liking. Maybe it’s Ralf.

“Ralf, is that you?” There’s no response.

She smells something foul in the air. She looks ahead into the dark and walks faster and faster towards an abandoned, rack-body truck. Whatever it is that’s out here appears to be on the hunt for something. Hopefully, it’s not her?

“Okay, Ralf. You’re really scaring me, now. Please stop! You need to stop.”

It isn’t stopping.

Stef runs up to the truck and grabs the passenger door handle. She needs to hide until whatever it is leaves the area. She listens but it’s hard to hear over her own breathing. She holds her breath, eyes scanning the fields, ears listening sharply. But there’s only one sound she can hear and that’s the beating of her own heart. It’s pounding through her chest. Whatever is out there has stopped moving. Did it catch something? Is it waiting for her? She has no idea but she needs to

get home. She needs to leave now. She releases the door handle and starts walking. But there it is again. This time she can tell where it’s coming from. She pauses, wondering if she should

continue or get in the truck. The hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up again. She

doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like feeling bullied. But if it’s a bear, it’s doing what it does. Hunting.

And that could mean she’s in danger. She returns to the truck.

She pushes down on the chrome button but it’s rusted and stuck. She places her left hand over her right thumb and presses down with all her might. It clicks loud, echoing in the darkness

across the fields, giving away her location. She pulls the door open slowly. The years of rust

cause it to crick and crack like fireworks in the dead of night. She pauses. Should she just pull it open real fast or continue slowly. But then something is trampling the grass as if racing straight towards her.

She swings the door open and jumps into the cobweb covered cab. The webs lace across her face as she scrambles for cover on the dark floorboards. She reaches out and pulls the door closed behind her. She sweeps the cobwebs away from her face, realizing she didn’t lock the

door. She slaps the locking pins down on both doors. Now she’s secure. But this doesn’t calm her much. She’s shaking. This isn’t a game like shadow-mades or hissing sprinkler jets. There’s something large out there on the hunt and she’s in danger. She skips a breath, trying to capture a sound but everything inside the truck is loud and everything outside is muffled.

She notices both windows are opened about an inch and the handles are missing. She reaches for her locket but it’s missing. The chain must have broken. This is bad. She looks on the

floorboard and the seat but it’s not there. Then, something crosses the moons path, causing a sudden black out within the cab.

Whatever it is it’s large. And upright. Like a man. She freezes, staring out the window, holding her breath. It’s just outside. It’s close. She freezes, unable to move, unsure what to do.

The truck is suddenly rocked back and forth from something very large and heavy jumping on the rear bed. She braces herself under the dashboard. This thing is so big it’s causing the suspension to bottom out.

She can feel her heart pounding through her chest. She doesn’t want to look but she has to. She has to see what this thing is. As she does, moonlight fills the top left corner of the rear window. The rest is blocked out by a massive shape.

Finally, it moves away from the window allowing her to see its outline. As it spins to look over the cab of the truck, Stef recoils in horror. The thing on the bed of the truck, stalking her all

this time is her shadow-made. Ominous. The give-away is a very distinctive feature or lack of. It’s the missing piece from the tip of his left ear. She can’t take her eyes off of him. It’s like seeing a ghost or a monster.

As he faces the moon, she gets a better look at him. And then he howls. He’s howling at the moon. But he’s not a wolf. He doesn’t look like a wolf. He’s missing the long, thin snout and pointy ears. His ears are on the side of his head, like a person’s. But he doesn’t look like any

person she’s ever seen. His face and arms, although human, are mostly covered with hair. Or is

that fur? It’s too dark to tell. His face looks somewhat canine, but not fully. Sharp pointy fangs glisten white in the light.

Ominous leaps from the truck, rocking it violently and lands outside the passenger door. He’s looking around and so far as not thought of looking inside the truck. Stef is panicky and cowers deeper to the floorboard, tucking herself under the dash. Her head is pinned between her

knees with eyes closed tight. Suddenly, she stops shaking. She slowly raises her head, no

longer afraid or intimidated by this thing. She needs to take control, at least of herself. She cranes her head slowly up at the passenger window but it’s dark. She can’t see anything. Maybe it’s gone. She inches out further and freezes. He isn’t gone.

His entire frame is blocking out the window. And what’s worse, he’s looking right in the window at her. Her movement has captured his attention. He’s poised, on the edge of excited. He found what he was looking for. Her.