The Demon Still Lives

    While excruciating pain impairs me, I put pen to paper with trembling hand inorder to reaccount the strange occurance which happened upon that night long ago, as I lay here in this hospital bed close to death. I was known as Johnathan Sebastin Ryder. Once a famous animal trapper for zoo's all across the world.....that is until this madness took control of me.
    As I recall of that night, a golden and blazing Summer sun was sinking rapidly on the distant Western horizon, with brillant colors of reds, oranges and yellows. The earth still burned from collected heat of plus one hundred degree temperature of the day, as cool darkness crept upon us, like a cat silently stalking its prey.
    There were only three of us from the expedition in camp that night, Tawee, our native guide who spoke english rather well. Lord Edwin McNeese of the Charlton House located somewhere in England, and myself. After a tasteful supper of local cusine prepared by Tawee, we were sitting around a roaring fire, amusing each other with tales of past adventures while drinking twelve year old whiskey which Lord Edwin had so thoughtfully brought along.
    I am sure the others also heard the hounds howling at the full moon, which illuminated the cloudless sky with its eerie silverish glow. Although Tawee told us that as a saying, the howling hounds would not come near the fire, I did not feel totally secure until my trusty rifle was resting across my lap. A very slight and warm breeze rose up from the North while the moon seemingly hung in the sky as if by a single thread directly overhead when Lord Edwin retired rather early, mumbling incoherently something about strong drink and him not mixing very well.
    The hairs on the nape of my neck suddenly stood rigid. I felt we were being watched from the inky dark shadows, just outside of our relm of light. Then as if by some prearranged signal, the hounds attacked the camp! Hysterically Tawee ran, babbling to some God, into the night trying to escape the two hounds which were nipping wildly at his heels. Lord Edwin never knew what was happening, for his throat was slashed by very long and razor sharp claws, killing him instantly.
    In my haste to feel secure, I had forgotten that there were only two tranqulizing darts loaded in the rifle. A most foolish action on my part, to say the least. The first shot hit a charging hound directly between its firey red eyes, dropping it almost instantly because I had a double dose of tranqulizer loaded in each dart. My second shot went wild, just as razor sharp fangs sunk deep into the meaty portion of my left leg. Immeaditly I brought the butt of the now empty weapon down upon its head, time and time again, until the foul smelling hound droped to the ground with spastic jerks. Then using the rifle as if it were a club, I swung blindly with all my might at the circling hounds till my right forearm was nearly seveared from the elbow, as a hound clamped its powerful jaws around it.
    As other members of the expedition came racing to our aid, screaming loudly and firing their weapons into the pack of hounds, they were gone just as quickly as they had appeared. Vanishing back into the darkness of the night. For weeks or maybe even months, I laid in a fevered state in a hospital somewhere in Northern England, cause my wounds had become infected and the loss of blood had left me negoitating life itself with the angel of death, the Grim Reaper himself. I was pale and weak, my once firm and well taned, muscular body had mostly turned to drooping flab and food became just another four letter word to my still numb senses.
    Soon I took my departure from the multitude of Doctors and Nurses which had attended to me. I slowly regained my strength and taste for food over the months, no years, which followed but I still had no inkling of the maddening disease which now mingled with my blood from the bites in my leg and arm. Once I was able, I returned and continued with my work, but as time slowly passed I found myself wandering aimlessly, as if in some sort of trance, through the night. I began sleeping through the bright daylight hours, then rising only when the sun was well out of sight behind the distant horizon. One night while tracking a species of Tiger in South America, a dizzy and throbbing pain overcame me, knocking me to my knees. My blood seem to be boiling as my heart pounded wildly, threatening to explode from within its confines.
    Once again I found myself the relucant guest of a hospital. It was there that I decided to give up my job and retire peacefully to my mansion in the Colorado mountains. In the years which followed my retirement, I wrote three novels about my countless journeys across the globe, tracking and capturing all sorts of animals for the zoos. Vaguely I remember going out that one night when the moon was full. Its silvery light cascading down upon the sleeping countryside and there is no recollection of the young woman in the park. Yet when I awoke the next evening I was covered with blood that was not my own. For the past several months now, I have ventured out into the night seeking new victims who are foolish enough to wander through the night. I have sought out and enliste the aide of an old college Professor of mine, Doctor Richer Von Zern. I am now hoping and praying that with his help I will be able to end this madness which has me in its grips.
    At times I find the Professors thick German accent gratting on my already frayed nerves, and the numerous blood samples which he has taken from me has left my arms looking like those of a heavy drug addict. Each time the samples come back negative and thoughts of ending my own tormented life are now a constant companion. As to my instructions, the good Professor has bound me to my bed with large, heavy chains and locks because I did awaken one evening to find a large dog carcass in the basement. Contact with the real world outside my humble abode has all been lost. Professor Von Zern comes and goes at will, using only the back entrance now. I have become a savage, eating nothing but fresh, raw meat and prowling the darken hallways and rooms of my mansion while knowing full well that if the shades were ever raised, the incoming daylight would spell certain doom for me because I have become a creature of the darkness.
    The Professor had to leave for awhile today. When he shall return, I do not know, but now there is someone rapping upon the door. My senses are filled with the stimulating scent of warm fresh blood as the uninvited guest peers through the back door, which the fool Professor has carelessly left unlocked and ajar. It is a rather huge woman, who knows not of the danger which eagerly awaits her within this rambling mansion. She is a Real Estate agent, that I believe is what she called out as I can hear her beating heart quite clearly. Skin becomes taut over razor sharp fangs, as hungrily I drool while watching the woman from atop the staircase, as she makes notes upon the clipboard she's carrying. As the transformation from man to beast begins to take place, I quitely descend the spiraling stairs.
    She has no time to scream for I am upon her instantly, burying my yellowish fangs deep into her jugular vein, before dragging the lifeless body down to the basement where I begin to devour the flabby flesh. Soon I once again return upstairs with a full belly, to while away the hours until Professor Von Zern returns to do some more tests on me. Ah, there is the good Professor now. It is strange that he should be wearing such a heavy wool overcoat on this extremely muggy August evening as I meet him in the living room with my head upon my chest and tail between my legs like a whiped pup while my eyes ask for his forgiveness for murdering the large woman.
    Something in the Professors hand catches my attention. What is it? A revolver! No! No! No, Professor Von Zern! You mustn't destroy me, you must cure me of this sickness! NOOOO!!!
    Six shots rung throughout the silent mansion. Five buried deep into my skull and the sixth one into the good Professors. Soon the police will come, but this is one murder-suicide case that they will never, never in any lifetime, solve.
    Now, my tale has come to an end. May the good Professor Richer Von Zern rest in peace and the Lord watch over him for trying to help cure me of this maddening evil which has ahold of me, as I now freely wander the mountain sides of the beautiful state of Colorado.

                              ### THE END ###