Night of the Werewolf by Erika M Szabo
Four friends
made the exciting decision to go camping one brisk weekend in October. The days
had grown noticeably shorter, and the nights stretched out longer, wrapping the
world in a cool, mysterious blanket. Beneath the pale, waning moon, they
carefully pitched their tents at a secluded site nestled deep within the thick,
whispering woods. The trees stood tall and shadowy, their leaves rustling
gently in the evening breeze. As the sun dipped slowly behind the towering
trunks, casting a dusky glow across the forest floor, the friends gathered
around their flickering campfire. The golden-orange flames danced and crackled,
casting playful shadows on their faces as their conversation naturally shifted
to chilling ghost stories and eerie horror movies, a perfect match for the
enchanting, slightly eerie atmosphere that surrounded them.
Gathered around
a lively, crackling campfire, the flickering flames cast playful shadows on
each other's faces as they engaged in a lively competition of storytelling,
each tale more imaginative and daring than the last. The night air was filled
with laughter and the scent of burning wood. When one friend rose from his
seat, announcing his need to seek a tree in the nearby bushes for a quick
bathroom break, the others called out teasingly, their voices echoing in the
quiet night, warning him to keep an eye out for Bigfoot lurking in the dark.
The laughter
quickly morphed into panicked shouts when a blood-curdling scream pierced the
night air. Moments later, a menacing silhouette materialized from the
surrounding darkness—a werewolf, its shaggy, matted fur catching and reflecting
the flickering firelight in eerie patterns. Startled and terrified, the
remaining three friends sprang into action, sprinting into the dense woods with
hearts pounding violently in their chests and breaths coming in ragged,
desperate gasps. The forest seemed alive around them, with branches and leaves
clawing at their clothes as they raced through the underbrush, but all they
could feel was the overwhelming grip of fear.
Fear gripped
them, propelling their frantic flight deeper into the dense forest. The
undergrowth whispered ominously beneath their hurried footsteps, shadows
stretching and merging in the pale moonlight. Suddenly, one of them stumbled
over an unseen root, a cruel twist of nature concealed by the cloak of night.
The forest echoed with a chilling crack, the unmistakable sound of his neck
snapping. The remaining two froze, hearts pounding in their chests, the reality
of the moment sinking in with a suffocating weight.
The werewolf,
relentless in its pursuit, suddenly stopped in its tracks and began to peel
away the mask that concealed its true identity. As the fur and fangs gave way
to the familiar face beneath, it revealed their lost friend—the very one who
had disappeared into the bushes earlier. His eyes wide with a mix of mischief
and regret, he shouted that it had all been an elaborate prank, a carefully
orchestrated joke meant to scare them out of their wits. Yet, what was intended
as harmless fun had spiraled into a disaster, veering horribly off course.
Gazing down at
his fallen friend, his chest tightened, making it nearly impossible to draw a
breath. “Oh my God, what did I do?” he cried, his voice reverberating through
the trees, returning to him as a haunting, miserable taunt. They clustered
around the lifeless body, their faces pale and eyes wide with shock, as though
time had frozen, abandoning them in a landscape of raw terror. “He’s dead,” one
of them murmured, the words slipping out as a mere whisper yet bearing the
heavy burden of a scream that echoed in their hearts.
The night
descended upon them, thick with an oppressive chill and a palpable sense of
dread. The darkness seemed to press in from all sides, wrapping them in its icy
grip. The prankster, eyes wide with panic and regret, dropped to his knees, the
frostbitten grass crunching beneath him. He clutched the victim's shoulders
with desperate hands, shaking him vigorously, trying to breathe life back into
the limp body. But the effort was in vain; the victim's form remained eerily
still, a haunting silhouette against the shadowy backdrop of the silent woods.
The others stood frozen in shock, their breath visible in the frigid air, their
initial gasps of disbelief slowly melting into quiet, anguished sobs that
punctuated the heavy silence of the night.
Tears cascaded
down their cheeks, leaving glistening trails as they fixed on the prankster,
their eyes wide and searching for any flicker of life. "Someone say
something!" he implored, his voice quivering with desperation, yearning
for words to fill the oppressive, deafening silence. "I didn’t mean it.
You all know I didn’t mean it, right?" His gaze darted around frantically,
his heart pounding in his chest, as the overwhelming gravity of the situation
settled upon him with a suffocating weight.
Erika M Szabo
Erika loves to dance
to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills
and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as
magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance,
and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and
educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.
