The Worm Moon

The brilliant white of the full moon coated everything in sharp silver contrast, so bright it created moon shadows as the two men crept through the neighborhood, mostly keeping to the bushes. Once, a dog barked, making them flinch, but it was inside and two streets away.

The men kept going.

The chilly March air seeped through their leather jackets as they made their way toward their destination.

They paused as the house came into view. With no real trees to provide cover, it was illuminated as if under the midday sun, and the younger man balked, “Jimmy, if there are security cameras, we are all kinds of screwed.”

“Sh,” was all Jimmy would say on the matter. As the more experienced of the two, he was confident they had done their due diligence. Tonight was going to go off without a hitch. They had reconnoitered, done several drive-bys, and watched the comings and goings of the occupants.

An elderly couple lived there. Maybe not elderly, but retired. Even if they were armed, Jimmy and Wallace had the element of surprise.

The house was nice. Not a mansion, but one of the better ones in town. It was a sprawling ranch with beautiful landscaping, featuring a garden the likes of which belonged on the cover of a magazine. The coming weeks would likely see a glorious bloom.

Jimmy wasn’t concerned with flowers, he was concerned with unlawful entry at the moment. He knew the front door was solid, and had a very good lock. Practically impenetrable — at least for guys like Jimmy and Wallace.

But the breezeway door was a simple aluminum door, with a basic sliding lock. The whole thing practically begged to be broken into.

Jimmy nudged Wallace, “Okay, pull your mask down.”

But the younger man was looking up at the cloudless sky, as if wishing for a lunar eclipse to obscure them from prying eyes of the neighbors, or security cameras, or… God, maybe.

Jimmy nudged again, harder, “Hey!”

Wallace pulled down his mask and the two men crept through the glorious garden, carful not to leave obvious boot prints in the soil. Soon, there would be an abundance of bees, but the weather was still too cold for that.

There was a retaining wall decorated with rose quartz crystals. This they hopped and duck-walked to the breezeway. Jimmy produced an 8” mini crow bar from inside his jacket and popped the cheap door with nearly no sound at all. He tapped Wallace on the arm and whispered, “Go, go.”

And like that, the two men were inside. The hardwood floors gleamed in the moonlight which spilled through the curtains. A quick glance told them there was some nice stuff inside.

Jimmy smiled. He had a good feeling about this job. Not enough to make them rich, but they could certainly score enough to move out of this crappy state. He pulled a good-sized burlap bag out of his jacket and began stuffing it with all sorts of things he figured would fetch a decent price. He sent Wallace into the den, where the lad discovered some leather-bound books and jewelry which glittered in the moonlight. Wallace was not as prepared as Jimmy, and forgot to bring a bag. But he had big pockets, and he stuffed them with trinkets.

Until something in the darkened corner caught his eye.

“Eh?”

Something moved, and Wallace froze, swearing under his breath about the damn dog they didn’t know about.

But it wasn’t a dog.

A woman moved silently on the carpet toward him. She was older, smiling, and nude.

“What the hell?”

Her smile broadened, revealing a mouthful of perfect, white teeth. Her canines were very pronounced.

Wallace, unsure if he should be aggressive with her or run away before the cops came, did neither. He froze.

The old woman stepped into the moon beam slanting through the window, and suddenly she changed. Gray har covered her body, from shoulders to toes.

Not hair, but fur.

Her mouth extended, thrusting a terrible maw of sharp teeth outward. Claws sprouted from her fingertips, and a tail suddenly wrapped around her thigh. She leaned over Wallace, and drool escaped her lips.

In the other room, Jimmy’s heart jumped into his throat when Wallace screamed. He dropped his bag and swore. He scooped up the goods, with an eye to the door, but something glinted in the dark.

A man, older, balding, nude, emerged from the shadows, making Jimmy jump again. A man that age should have dentures, Jimmy thought, and yet… this gentleman seemed to have an abundance of teeth.

The man leaned closer to Jimmy and whispered, “Manifest your dreams.”

The thick walls of the house swallowed Jimmy’s screams, until they were finally choked off by the night.




The next day was bright, the warm sun signaling the Spring to come. A police car eased to a stop at the top of the winding driveway of the nice brick place at the top of the bluff overlooking the neighborhood, and two officers walked to the front door, which was answered after the second knock by a stately, older woman.

The lead cop, big and handsome, doffed his hat to the woman, “Morning, ma’am. We just wanted to ask if there was anything odd in the neighborhood last night.”

“Odd?” She asked. Her voice was butterscotch and cream.

“Yes. We received a notice that two man were seen sneaking through people’s yards around one in the morning. Wondered if you had anything to say.”

“Oh, goodness me,” she said, My husband and I were dead to the world by that time of night, officer.”

“Understood. Well, if you think of anything, or if you find anything out of place, let us know.”

“Of course, dear.”

The other cop motioned to the garden, with its rich dark soil, “Your garden is beautiful, ma’am.”

She grinned, showing an awful lot of teeth, “Isn’t it? The secret is in what you feed it."