The rays of the moon beamed through the slats of the barn siding where Simon had chained himself once again. He could not be allowed to hurt anyone else and he knew of no way to end this curse, save death. He had too much hope for that.
The transformation took him, snarling in pain as his limbs became wolf-like. Hair sprouted all over, claws emerged from his hands and his mouth became a salivating snout complete with sharp fangs. He had lost count of how many moons had come since this curse was laid upon him. He had NOT lost count of his victims.
Dear Nicole had been the first. His high school sweetheart. They had parked one night on lover’s ridge, preparing to watch the super harvest moon rise over the nearby mountain range. The evening had been going well, until the moon did rise. Once its rays settled on him, he began to convulse. The transformation took him. Neither knew what was happening and Nicole was frantic thinking Simon had gone into a seizure. She hovered close, too close, he slashed her throat.
The next, poor little Freddie who lived at the end of the street. Snapped his neck like a twig. A twig that would not see 10 years of age. Rosa, Michael, Marie, the Tailor sisters, several he didn’t have names for but their faces still lingered in his mind.
He tried for awhile to get to the forest as a full moon approached. This worked, mostly, if he was far enough from town. He wasn’t always though, as one lone jogger learned fatally. So here he was, now chaining himself through the ordeal.
The transformation complete, lost in the animal he’d become, he surged forward. The slack in the chains pulled taught and he was held in place. A deep howl escaped his throat at his frustration. Then he surged again, the slight sound of cracking wood could be heard as well as felt through the chains. It wasn’t going to hold. Who was going to pay for his curse this time?…
This is my entry for the Foto Flash Fiction Challenge hosted by Donna McNicols.
Full moon photo courtesy of dbmcnicol @ pixabay
Thanks for reading and have a restful night under the full moon. If you aren’t a werewolf anyway 😉
Jim Sponseller – mindescapes.net – 2019