Cabin

Under the soft glow of a full moon on a cold October night, Kristen hides in her cabin, concealed away deep in the woods. Safe. The word she would use to keep the hair on her arms from standing on end and the goose bumps from littering her skin. Safe.

She closes her eyes and tries to calm her breathing to a steady pace. She presses her ear to the cold metal door, too afraid to move, listening, hoping, waiting for the savage creature to get its fill and leave the small town for good.

Once a month, every month, why does her world always end in bloodshed? The adults, oh they don’t know, you see I’m just a kid with an overactive imagination. All the innocent people found slaughtered in the woods…Those were bear attacks. Kristen feels herself shiver as the images bombard her memory, bringing the all too real fear of death careening to the depths of her soul.

Outside she can hear the heavy footsteps of a slow moving creature. Large in frame and graceful in movement, every bit as fierce and dangerous as a loaded gun pointed directly into the face of a victim. She could hear the snotty sounds it makes as it sniffs the night air, hunting for the prey that eluded its grasp just moments prior to her cunning attempt to hide. Hunting ….me. She thinks as she hugs her legs to her chest.

A twig snaps, an owl lets out a hoot, timing it perfectly making this the scariest moment of her life. Kristen looks around the room, seeing the dust cover the tables and the moonlight seep through the narrow slits of the curtains, illuminating the bare floors. Nothing, no lamps, no décor to speak of. Absolutely no salvation.

There is no weapon in sight, no hope at all. Quietly Kristen weeps to herself as she feels the presence of the monster slowly creep towards her. At any moment, any moment now, I will be the victim of another “bear attack” easily wiped off the face of the earth and forgotten. Through the cracks of the door a shadow sweeps across the minimal lighting, showing the graceful silent movement of the beast.

An eye, yellow and radiating with madness searches the dark recesses of the empty cabin. She watches it as its stare sweeps from the left slowly to the right, inches from where she is curled up in the ever comforting cradle position. “Did it see me? Did it?” fat salty droplets slowly cascade down her cheek as she hums a silent prayer. Waiting.

The long yellowing claws still shimmered in the dull moonlight as they were thrust deep into the rusty metal door. Little trenches were grooved as each claw penetrated and his massive arm dragged them across the hard surface. The only protection she had against this nightmarish creature is hurled across the room with such force that it is crumpled like last week’s homework assignment.

The mighty roar taunts her as it crawls out of his gnarled lips and saliva sprays from his massive fangs. He looks for his prey. The scent of fear thickens the air and a cold shiver vibrates down her spine. Kristen waits. Waits for the numb feeling of a gruesome death.

It slowly comes forward claws first, the Werewolf of Timber Lane, Manhattan. Here to offer up death with a side order of pain and misery. As it closes in on her body, Kristen inhales sharply and lets her breath out slowly. Savoring it, feeling it leave her body knowing it will be the last.

“What are you doing Kristen? Are you still at that type writer?” Her mother asked as she opened her bedroom door and stared at her sprawled across the bed with her favorite comforter draped around her.

“Aww mom, just ten more minutes please? I’m just getting to the good part!”

She smiled softly at her teen daughter, so grown up, so full of life “The full moon rises in just a few minutes dear and you know what that means”

Kristen mimicked her mother’s voice all too well, a practiced voice from many years of taunting. “Yea yea, I know. It’s time to hunt the humans. We only get to transform once a month and time is precious to us!”