“You know what, Trevor? What I’m really pissed off about is that you kept this big secret from me. You don’t think I deserved to know the truth? You don’t think I deserved to know that my deceased mother-in-law was a werewolf? Imagine if we’d had kids – would they have been vampire-werewolf hybrids? They could’ve been.”
Trevor tried to say something, but his wife was in full rant mode.
“And you had this, this abomination living in our house. He could have ripped our throats out at any time.”
Trevor tried to defend himself.
“That’s not strictly true, Tracey, he’s only a danger at full moon.”
“Oh, so because he only transforms at full moon, that’s alright then is it?”
Trevor tried frantically to think of something that might diffuse the situation.
“No. Of course not. But it means he’s more manageable.”
“Manageable? Bloody manageable? That must make Adrienne feel much better, mustn’t it? Oh… wait. Adrienne’s dead isn’t she? Ripped to shreds by your bloody friend!”
“He’s your friend too.”
“You bit him. You brought him home. And YOU kept it secret that he wasn’t just a zombie-vampire hybrid.”
“To be fair. I wasn’t sure.”
Tracey needed to punch something. She wanted to punch Trevor but she wasn’t finished with him yet.
“When were you sure then? When local pets were mutilated? When that poor boy, Ronnie Whatsisname was killed? Or now that our friend Adrienne is dead.”
“I started to think it may be him when Ronnie Williams was killed, yes.”
Tracey was livid.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything then?”
“I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s been nothing but a perfect guest since he’s been here.”
“Benefit of the bloody doubt?”
“Look, Tracey. You know that werewolves can’t control their actions when they transform. They’re like rabid animals. They’re in another world, a world of confusion, where nothing makes sense and reality is suspended.”
“No, I don’t, Trevor. I’ve never dealt with werewolves before. My mum was normal. I didn’t even think they were a real thing until now. Not like you, whose bloody mother was one.”
She turned away from her husband.
“I don’t want anything to do with you right now. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t even want to see your face. I need space.”
The couple had never fought like this before. Trevor tried to placate his wife.
“But—”
“I said. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t care where you go, but I don’t want you in this house tonight.”
Trevor didn’t try to persuade her otherwise. She was right. If he had said something as soon as he suspected, Adrienne would probably still be alive. He closed the door quietly behind him as he left.
Tracey’s face was etched with tears of both anger and sorrow. She went into Arnold’s room and looked around. She’d expected it to have been in a mess, trashed during Arnold’s transformation into a wolf, but everything was neat and tidy, with his clothes neatly folded on the bed.
She was alone but spoke out loud.
“What kind of werewolf folds his clothes before going out on a killing spree?”
20
Trevor drove around aimlessly for a while, with no destination in mind. He wanted to go home and sort things out with his wife, but he didn’t see how they could get past this one. Not so soon, anyway.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he realised that he was near Silvestre Woods, where Ronnie Williams’s body had been found. Arnold would soon be turning back into a human – at least a humanlike creature – if he hadn’t already. Maybe he’d gone into the woods.
Trevor parked his car in the small gravel parking area and made his way through the trees in the direction of the Great Oak. The scene had long since been released back into the public domain and nothing visible remained that could betray the horror that had taken place – just an ambience of foreboding.
He stood and looked at the tree, silhouetted in the multi-hued sky of sunrise, and heard someone moving on the other side of the tree trunk. He rounded the tree and saw his friend, curled up in a ball, naked as the day he was born. Arnold had been trying to cry. He looked up at Trevor with despair in his eye.
“I think I’ve done something terrible. I don’t know what – it’s just a feeling – but it’s a feeling that’s very real.”
Trevor didn’t know what to say. Arnold had done something terrible – he’d killed two people – but how do you tell someone they’re a murderer when they have no recollection of killing anyone? Trevor took off his jacket and handed it to Arnold who put it on and stood up. Luckily Trevor was a good six inches taller than Arnold, so the jacket just about preserved his modesty.
“What have I done, Trev? I woke up in these woods, covered in blood. And it’s not my blood.”
Trevor was going to have to tell him. He had no choice. But it wouldn’t be easy.
“You’d better sit back down, mate. And take a couple of deep breaths – it’s not a pretty story.”
Arnold sat down again.
“I don’t breathe, Trev. You know that.”
Trevor needed to compose himself before delivering the bad news.
“Arnold. Have you blacked out before?”
“A couple of times, yes.”
“Did you notice anything in common about the blackouts? Like when they happened?”
“No. Well, yes. They do seem to be when there’s a lot of moonlight.”
“When there’s a full moon.”
“Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Trevor felt only sorrow for his friend. He really had no idea what he was or what he had done.
“There’s no delicate way to say this, Arnold, so I’m just going to come straight out and say it. You’re a werewolf.”
Arnold looked at his friend in disbelief.
“What do you mean, I’m a werewolf? I’m a zombie-vampire, not a werewolf.”
“I’m not joking, Arnold. You really are a werewolf.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Arnold sunk his head in his hands.
“You mean that during these blackouts, I’m a werewolf?”
“Just the wolf part. Yes. A wolf with heightened strength and super senses.”
It was a lot for Arnold to take in. He stood up again.
“We’ve got to warn Adrienne. She could be in danger. She might not want anything more to do with me, but at least she’ll be safe.”
Trevor closed his eyes. This was going to be difficult to say.
“It’s too late.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s too late, Arnold. You killed her last night.”
“No. I’d know if I’d killed anyone.”
“You wouldn’t Arnold. Your mind loses all its humanity when you transform. You can’t speak, you can’t rationalize. You run on pure instinct.”
Arnold’s face creased up and he let out a howl of pain, ripping off Trevor’s jacket. He stood naked in front of Trevor and pointed at his torso.
“You mean this is Adrienne’s blood?”
Trevor nodded. He didn’t have any words that could help Arnold feel better.
Suddenly Arnold began clawing at the bloodstains on his body, wailing like a banshee. Bloodied scraps of flesh fell to the ground. Trevor couldn’t bear to stand by and do nothing whilst his friend was in such obvious torment. He picked up the fallen jacket, wrapped it around Arnold, and held him tight. Arnold’s shoulders shook uncontrollably. He drew away from his friend,
“Kill me, Trevor. Kill me now. I don’t want to live.”
Trevor understood his friend’s request.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Just do it. I want you to.”