Last Moon

The thundering beat of his heart hammered in his ears, accompanied by blood pumping desperately in his veins. His entire body quivered as the chill air leached through the open wounds in his skin. Stumbling on a gnarled root, he crashed to the ground with a crunch! on a pile of dead leaves. He heard a faint scuttling sound from behind. Twisting around, he prepared for the assault but the street was empty. He saw only pages of the day’s newspaper being dragged along the street by a gust of wind. The neighborhood was quiet, though he doubted it would remain that way for long.

His chest heaved as he tried to calm his breathing. Pain and sweat covered his body, struggling against a tide of fear. He removed the knife from his thigh, its tainted silvery glint flashing in the night before being tossed beneath a nearby bush. He had no place to sheath it and carrying it would only hinder him. Besides, he had other weapons if he needed to fight. With great difficulty he rose to his feet and ran. Weaving through the nearest pair of houses, he cut through back yard after back yard. They would have to work harder to find him.

A nasty snarl greeted him as he jumped a short chain link fence. Out of the shadows a dog surged forward, furious at the intrusion into its yard. The dark furred doberman bared its teeth. He returned the snarl and charged the dog, which cowered and returned to its hiding spot.

The freshwater smell of the lake tingled on the edge of perception, a glimmer of hope on the horizon. He ran harder. The lake was sanctuary.

The fences slowed him down. Every precious second mattered. He pressed on, at last weaving back to the street where he could run unhindered.

He heard a distant cry. They had found him.

The lake called to him.

He ran as hard as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his side. The world jarred and he nearly toppled to the ground. Dizziness from blood loss was setting in. Light headed, he continued to run. He knew his way to the lake.

Cresting the hill, he saw it. Moonlight streamed onto the water. He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw movement in the water. He thought about the legends of the lake again to take his mind off of his weakening body. What he needed was there.

He would end it at last.

He charged down the pier that stretched out over the lake. A loud bang shattered the night and caused the world to roar around him. Everything happened at once and time slowed down. The bullet ripped through his sleeve but missed his arm. Behind him, the enraged mob reached the pier and slowed to a halt. At the end of the pier, he turned to face them. His strong eyesight took in every person there, including his parents. He wished he could have said good bye.

He turned back to the lake. A ripple in the surface confirmed that the stories were true. What he sought was here. He tried to howl but his lungs could no longer hold enough air to even let him speak. With a smile of relief, he plunged into the frigid water and waited for the legendary beast to come to him.

...That is how the werewolf of Apple’s Garden died.