A tribute to the night of nights;

All Hallows Eve

Read with caution...

The Blue Werewolf

C/By Kenjaje

Chapter 1: "True Encounters With Werewolves"

--October 28; 8:11 PM; The Tower

"...The boy scouts bid their goodnights, and took to their tents after the fire watch doused the bonfire until no smoke arose." Lilo read aloud, her eyes darting across the page, barely able to read the letters that blurred and slanted with her reading motion. Her voice was low as she spoke the words she read, and the flashlight that she had placed behind her on a holder flickered every now and then.

"A cold wind blew that October night, and ruffled the canvases of the campsite's shelters. Though by now, all the boys were fast asleep; some still jarred by the stories just told around the campfire." Stitch felt a quiver of fear course down his spine every once in a while. Lilo paused and took a quavering breath in as she turned the page, and continued reading in the dark; Stitch listening to every word and seeing what was described happening in his mind's eye.

"Tim stirred in his sleeping bag as the wind rattled the zipper of his tent. He never woke to minor things, and so he thought that something else aroused him. 'Maybe it was Sam.' He thought, glancing over to his tent mate. An eerie feeling overcame him as the wind seemed to roar past his tent; the noise was loud and irritatingly creepy, like something outside was trying to force its way in.

"Tim shrugged the feeling and hastily ducked back into his bag, pulling the end over his head and zipping it tight, covering his mouth so that he exhaled warm breath which kept him calm. He heard his tent mate shift in his bag, and at first Tim jumped to fear, but then quickly convinced himself that he should calm down.

"He tried his hardest to sleep with the wind roaring the tent and brushing the side of the canvas against his sleeping bag. The noise seemed to pass through the stuffing between his ear and the outside world as if it wasn't there. He opened his eyes to try and see something, hoping that some light was outside. Sadly, there was none, and only a dull darkness floated into his vision.

"Tim couldn't sleep, that was obvious to him now. For some reason he'd woken up, and now that he was awake, he was too excited to get back to sleep. He checked his watch, only an hour or so had passed since he dozed off. Then, however, he was awake with others; now he was the only one active, and it felt oddly silent outside, despite the wind.

"Another minute or so passed, and Tim decided—if nothing else—to exert his bladder. 'Nothing's out there,' he told himself, 'you're completely safe. None of those stories are true...even if Duncan said they were...' His thoughts convinced him enough to disregard his anxiousness and crawl out of his sleeping bag.

"The night air was freezing on his upper body, the hairs on his back stood on end as he sat up to put on a shirt. He regretted not listening to the scoutmaster's advice about putting on a full set of clothes to keep warm. His body refused to move the air was so cold. He sat and waited for a moment, sill hesitating his journey outside. Deciding whether or not to go, whether or not it was worth it, whether or not something would happen to him.

"Finally his bladder gave the decision; and he moved his legs to the outside air and put socks on to warm up his feet. Only stopping momentarily, he then attempted to search for his shoes. His breath shuddered with chilling air as he searched, sighing with scorn, as he was not able to find them. He then remembered where his flashlight was; in the little mesh bag to his right. He reached in and pulled it out—a tiny, red MAGlight.

"Twisting the cap, it turned on and blazed a flood of light at the roof of the tent, shining dully on the fabric, but almost unbearably bright to Tim's eyes. He pointed it down as quick as he could, to try and get used to the brightness; a burn of light remained on his retina from where the brightness once was, streaked down, and then slowly dissolved to a blue-blackish line, then disappeared.

"As soon as his eyes adjusted, he scanned the tent more thoroughly, and found his shoes pitted against his tent mate's in the center of their sleeping bags, a bit down near where his knees were. He hadn't moved much to get dressed, minimal movement conserved heat better, and right now the air was numbing him. With the light he also found his jacket, and dawned it as well.

"With a final loop of his bootlace, Tim shifted his position and opened the tent door with the loud run of the zipper. It seemed comforting to hear a noise other than the wind and his tent mate's stirs...and at the same time it seemed like a bad thing; if something was out there, they heard him. He quickly banished that thought from his mind, and replaced it with common politeness: be as quiet as possible when awake in the middle of the night, so as not to disturb your neighbors.

"With renewed courage he stepped outside and zipped the door shut more quiet and slowly. The cold hit him almost immediately. It must have been nearly freezing outside; the numbness in his hands was certainly not the result of a humid night. He turned on his light again, pointing it far down to the ground; comfortable sleepers easily saw light through tents. He let out a sigh, his breath visible above the shaft of light. He scanned the tent lines and found a place where he could venture into the forest a small ways, and find a comfortable spot.

"His eyes focused on the light in front of him as he stepped loudly against the night sky. The noise of his tent ruffling in the wind was now replaced by the leaves in the trees; a loud, omnipresent roar. Grass crunched beneath the thick soles of his large hiking boots; the sound had the same effect as the zipper to him—comforting, and yet disrupting.

"Now the feeling of loneliness came onto him even more as he passed the tents and followed the small trail into the thick trees." Lilo paused again to turn the page and adjust the light behind her; she began reading again, except this time faster, and with more of a suspenseful tone, sometimes running sentences together. "He wandered for a few minutes, trying to find a rock or dead tree. After a few more moments he finally gave up and decided to wander to the nearest tree.

"He quickly shut his light off and stood very still as he depleted his supply on the tree. Once done, he hooked his belt through and latched it shut, and went for his light. But in that time, a rustle sounded off behind him; one that was louder than the wind and yet still very soft.

"Quickly he turned and tried to find out where the sound came from, but it was too dark too see anything, now that his eyes were still too dependent on the flashlight. He fumbled the MAG in his numb fingers, and twisted the cap to turn it on. To his dismay, no light flared from the bulb; it remained dead and dark.

"Tim's heart began to beat quicker, but he quickly suppressed the rate and turned to the light of the moon through the trees. It was dull and pale, shining only in a tiny spot where the trunks were not present and the light could touch the dark green grass. He stepped into the spot, a long narrow strip of light that meandered violently and was cut into several lengths along the horizon. For a moment, he felt safe...but only for a moment.

"Another rustle came from behind him, making him dart around. Aiming the flashlight in the general directing, he attempted to turn it on again, but with no avail. A sweep of panic flooded his mind; that noise he heard was a rustle, but it was too unnatural.

"'It's Duncan.' His mind tried to tell him. 'He's always playing pranks on you, it's just him, not a werewolf from one of stories...werewolves don't exist.' He heaved another sigh, and took a step. But stopped abruptly as the rustle sounded again, immediately after the noise of his boot came. He stepped again, and again the rustle came, almost rhythmically. 'That's just Duncan...'

"Immediately he increased his pace, and so did the rustle. Now he was sure it was someone...or something. 'Hey!' He called out, 'I know you're there, who are you? Duncan?' There was no response, except for another muted rustle. 'Answer me!' Tim shouted. As if on cue, a howl emanated from somewhere he was facing.

"Immediately he dropped his flashlight and ran; pounding through the trees as his heart screamed with fear to the point of bursting. The rustles behind him doubled, something with four legs was running after him, and it was gaining. He glanced behind, but saw nothing in the moonlight. He continued to follow the slim trail that peeked through the trees, but didn't catch the dead root that protruded from the ground.

"His foot whipped to the left and his ankle twisted with a crunch as he fell and skidded across the ground, landing hard against the trees that were near him. Pain swept his body, but he reacted without caring about it. He fumbled to his hands and knees and tried to stand, when he heard a growl come from in front of him. Though he wished not to, he forced himself to look up slowly. He panned across the dark shadow, and screamed in fear as he saw the two, glowing, blood-red eyes of the-"

Lilo screamed loudly as a booming clash of thunder shook the house violently; she slammed the book (entitled "True Encounters With Werewolves") shut and threw it to the other side of the room. Stitch let out a mute cry, and toward the covers of Lilo's bed, ducking under them and shivering with fear, causing the flashlight mounted no the side of the bed frame to fall and blink out with a dull thump. Lilo sat for a long moment, as more tremors of sound rippled through the house from the storm outside. She forced her breathing to slow down, and deepened her intake.

"That...was..." She muttered over the thunderclaps, reaching with a trembling hand and turning on the light. "The scariest..." Another thunderclap droned out her sentence. "Make room!" She yelled at her friend under the covers, as she bolted under them as well, and joined him in his cowering.