The Edge of the Meadow

Chapter 7- Books

One of the Elders was taken that night. Edward Huckleber, the most important and wise of all the Eders, and the man who slapped me when I was little after I took a piece of bread from his basket, calling me the devil's spawn. I felt little sympathy for the man, but it still horrified me whenever I thought of the grisly fate the man probably went through. 

Each night, someone disappeared. We weren't targets anymore. The third night, exhaustion overtook me and I somehow slept, if you can call it sleep. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, not knowing if the darkness was the black of the room or the black of my mind. The fifth day, We decided we were done preparing. We finally rested under the safety of the sun. 

We had worked really hard and ended up with a fortress. It had a 10-foot deep ditch lined with spikes around the whole thing. The spikes in front of the windows and doors were reinforced with stone tips, tips that I had worn down from the pebbles I had seen the first day. We had a ladder strung from the roof. We had the ladders already made when I had attempted to build a tree-house, so we strung one in the chimney, to climb to the roof, and one near the front of the house, which was away from the forest. IN the morning, we strung them out and used them to go in and out of the house, but at night we took turns bringing them up so the monster had no access. 

The disappearances didn't stop. Day after day, someone would vanish. It was now elderly adults, no doubt being as helpless as children but with much more meat. I didn't understand why it was taking people. It must be easier to take sick deer, and much more rewarding. So why was it taking us? 

By day thirteen, we had lost 13 people. 

And by day 13, I had had enough. 

*    *    *

The storehouse held all the belongings of the First. These were the people who founded the village. They had books, collections of stories lost after some time. Most people didn't think reading was worth the time. In school, children learned to read, sure, but it was to test their brains. It was all information they could take in and use. I needed no such thing. I was doing just fine. I was failing most classes because of neglect when I was still in school, but I knew how to read. I just didn't want to read that. I wanted to read stories, such as Divergent and One Second After. They were all different, all telling different ways mankind ends and comes back, so I knew they weren't real. But they sounded real, and they absorbed me and took me away from the cruel reality I lived in. 

Day thirteen was when I had decided to investigate. Surely, one of these books had some way to defeat this monster. I had read about them in several different places. While my village called it the Beast, these authors called it a werewolf. 

I opened the door and quickly got used to the musty smell of books. I carefully made my way around the room, stopping at the pile of ancient books. Their pages were yellow and wrinkled, but their cover was hard, so I looked at each title until I found what I was looking for. 

"The Book Of Beasts" I read, then sneezed as the dust I had blown off the book reached my nose. I opened it gingerly, flipping the thin pages with care. I passed Manticores, Griffins, Medusa, Vampires, Ghosts, Ghouls. Finally, near the end, the bold, black letters caught my eye.

The Werewolf

Although it is mentioned in much mythology, I have seen the werewolf with my very eyes. They are a confirmed species, something so astonishing I can barely believe it. This beast, if it can be called that, varies in color, from black to white to brown, but behavior varies between species.

Werves- Full werewolves. These are werewolves who shifted past the point of return. These are a hideous man-wolf hybrid that has no self-control. They act purely on instinct and can shift from four legs to two legs. They have been observed to hunt bison, Elk, and Moose. They are extremely rare. Only five have ever been documented. 

Wolves- The most realistic ones yet, these almost fully resemble normal wolves (They are much larger, however). They have complete self-control, but these are the rarest ones of all. These can only be created when a man is bitten by a werve and survives, something extremely unlikely. Only one has ever been documented.

Werewolves- These are usually a mix between Werves and Wolves. They can lose their self-control in many situations, and they can shift from man-wolf hybrid to wolf to human involuntarily and voluntarily. These have been observed to eat deer, cattle, and sometimes elk and Moose. These are created when-

The page stoped there. It had a huge, gaping hole, like most pages. I flipped the page to find the title "No Cure for Werewolf", but the entire page had been worn so much I could barely see the imprint of letters. I saw the occasional "Th" and "an", but nothing more. I had not learned anything new, other than the fact that all three did not match the description.

Frustrated, I nearly threw the book. Remembering it could break, I placed it in my satchel and caught my breath outside- then threw a rock and screamed. The few people that were wandering the streets stopped to stare. A bit embarrassed at my outburst, I hustled home, the leather bag bumping into me repeatedly. 

I jumped and grasped the rope ladder. I climbed it to my roof, the red tiles scorching hot from the sun. I scampered down the ladder in the chimney, careful not to get coal on myself, and then dropped won in our living room. Will was laying there on the black couch, asleep. I walked to my room and sat in a corner with a notepad. Pencil in hand, I began trying to make out the letters on the page. The third paragraph was the only one a bit eligible, so I began reading that. After an hour of seriosu squinting, I came up with this:

The Wer    lf is a v  y   r     s being. W   es have m  e s  lf-c  r  l, but we  wo  lv  s  have be  n    own to r    d to their n  e in W  v e state. W   e th s is very ra e, a wa  to s  p th  m is to a   s them like t   y are a pe  on. So    es this r   s t  m t  y a  e h      n a d th  y   n sh  ft back. 

After that, I moved on to decrypt it. I measured the length of the letters I knew and tried figuring out words. After several more painstaking hours, I came up with this: 

The Werewolf is a very  being. Wolves have , but Werewolves have been known to  to their name in Werve state.  this is very rare, a way to stop them is to assess them like they are a person.  this   and they can shift back. 

While it was missing a lot of things, I could make out what it was saying. You can stop a werewolf by talking to them like they are a person. Interesting. As the sun began to set, I went to the bathroom. Will was waiting for me there, reading a book with a dim flashlight. I lay down in the corner and thought, hard. I looked at Will. He would move on if I died. He would be able to go to school and become an architect, something he had wanted since he was little, but also something I prevented him from. My ears were very sensitive, and the sawing and hammering of nails didn't help. 

I looked at the wall, barely visible. If I left and tried to stop this monster, I would not be the abnormal, quiet girl who died like everyone else. I would be the almost- hero, the girl who risked and lost her life to save her village. Even if it was a failure, I knew I would meet my end sooner or later.

That would just be a more heroic way of doing so.