The Curse of the Werewolves

CH15: THE POSTCARD.

Glossary:
Book Scorpion:- A small tiny harmless scorpion which crawls on damp rusty pages of old books and documents.
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Soon after I had unlocked the journal as well by using the hairpin technique, I was sitting on a wooden chair and a table made from pure oak trees. The journal was placed on the wooden table, glowing white from the moonlight and glowing orange from the candlelight. Both of the strong effective lights were battling each other and were creating a strong colour {which I had never seen before} as a result.

I placed my finger on the lid of the journal, and then I stopped. I recalled that how that werewolf in the bathtub had an incredible speed and an extreme raging anger, and how it had beaten it's chest wildly when I had ran out of the bathroom. That same hideous creature could AGAIN show up at any time and then rip me to shreds - just like it did those poor dead people down in the foyer.

But I remembered that I had a weapon to defend myself. Not a much harmful weapon but it was still a weapon.

First, I slid the sharp knife from my pocket and put it aside to the journal, then I flipped the journal open.

"Don't fail to disappoint me!" I whispered to the journal. "You know I don't usually talk to things... but you are forcing me..."

The musty dusty smell which often comes from the crisp old papers of an ancient book flared and pinched my nostrils. The paper was dull yellow and as rigid as a board; it's edge could give you an effective papercut! The candlelight was not making the page look yellow. It was already yellow.

On the first page was written, "Property of Rose W. Goldberg. Do not open without permission!" with a long bar drawn beneath the sentences.

"Sorry", I said. "But I have already opened you."

Saying this, I turned the page. A tiny book scorpion was crawling over the second page. I shook the page and the scorpion flew across the air.

On the second page was made the first entry, which was dating back to-

"November 23, 1962?"

I started reading the entry which my grandmother had made nearly 57 year earlier. The words were written neatly and carefully with a black ink and a fountain pen. It was easy to determine that there had been use of a fountain pen, since the words were written delicately. I started murmuring the first letters which were written... "Dear Journal... Today, there had been a great intensity in the weather. The sun had been shining so brightly that one could get a heatstroke..."

None of this was helping. I turned to the next page. The next entry had been made the other day. November 24, 1962. I read the first few words. They weren't helping either.

I closed the journal and then turned it upside down. I had plans to read the latest entries. Maybe they would give me some hints. I opened the journal  from the end and my eyes met with old, empty pages. I repeated the process of turning the pages when, unexpectedly, a postcard appeared in sight.

Curious, I held the postcard in my fingers. It was unsigned.

"The... Lighthouse. Why there would be a photo of a lighthouse in this old journal?" I questioned myself. It was a question which I shouldn't have asked myself, but due to the bizzareness and the high strangeness of an unsigned postcard with the photo of the local lighthouse, the question had automatically slipped out of my mouth.

In the photo, wild waves were crashing into the rocks and the docks. The lighthouse was standing on the dry rocky piece of land, and an eerie yellow light was thrown onto the ocean. I decided that this might be a clue. A clue, which may come handy in the near future. Deciding this, I folded it. I am not great in folding things. It takes me a lot of time to fold things like newspaper and stuff. But since this was a photo, I had folded it pretty easily.

I dropped the picture in the bag along with the journal. I would read it back at the church. Now was not the right time. I looked at my pocket watch. Oh my, it was almost midnight. Gathering my belongings, I quickly stood up and  hung the bag over my shoulder - ready to leave, when that feeling of being watched receded back towards me.

I hurriedly turned around to exit the room when a tall and a dark silhouette grabbed me by the neck in it's tight grasp, making me gasp! It's sharp pointy fingernails, or you could say claws, dug deep into my flesh, making my veins on the neck sizzle and burn my skin. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't cry. The silhouette was squeezing me! Squeezing me to DEATH!

"Urrgll-glllg..." I tried to scream, but all that came out was a series of blocked-out cries. Like if I was drowning and was trying to scream for help. Hot breath puffed on my face from the gigantic beast which had me in it's firm grasp. It growled and moaned in the most untamed manner. It was certainly a werewolf! What else could it be?! From the darkness, the eyes stared at me with a strange pale blue glow, like hot shooting lazers.

"Grrrrrr... Hisssssss"

And then, in a swift and a forceful motion, it lifted me up just inches from the floor; my feet hung limply between the small distance between me and the floor. Then, growling in a horrid manner, it shook me once... Twice... I opened my mouth and uttered a dry gasp. My neck felt as if it was about to blow off! A prickling painful feeling struck my head, like an awl piercing into my brain.

I thought I was going to die!

I tried to struggle with the powerful werewolf, but it had an incredible strength which no human could possess. It opened it's mouth wide; the darkness concealed all of it's face except for the nose and the teeth. The moonlight showered itself onto the pointy rows of it's yellow serrated teeth. They glinted in the moonlight.
It's long fat purple tongue slapped against the surface of his jaw, and then it roared...

So LOUD, that the portraits and the furniture around me started to shake. The roar pierced my ears and almost tore my eardrums, and I clamped my hands over my ears to prevent myself from hearing to the undesirable noise.
I closed my eyes shut and beared the excruciating pain which bloomed on my skin. And prepared to die!
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Hannah has been caught in the hands of a powerful beast, but could she escape from this werewolf's undeniable wrath? Read more to find out in the next upcoming chapter.

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