So things have been a little hectic and our weekly has kinda turned into bi-weekly? Anyway, here is our second story for our writing challenge! Hope you enjoy, send us your stories! We have loved what we have received so far! Stay distracted!!
Week 2 topic: “She had always hoped that when she faced danger she would be courageous. Now she knew.”
She had always hoped that when she faced danger she would be courageous, now she knew. Claire turned on her heel and took off in the opposite direction. “Nope”, she decided. Her feet barely skimmed the ground as she began to run as fast as her legs and breath would allow. She was disappointed in herself, but also realized that fight versus flight wasn’t always a cut and dry option. She would run now, think later. Her mind didn’t know where she was headed, but apparently her feet did.
Claire didn’t know how long she had run for and she hadn’t looked back. There was no point, he was dead. The moment she had turned her back and ran for the hills she had sealed his fate. The only emotion she felt was indifference. “How had she become this callous?” It was a rhetorical question, of course, she knew what had led her down this path.
Claire slowed her pace to a fast walk trying to control her breath. She was nearing a dark forest and the sun was beginning to descend.. Claire decided this was where she needed to make camp for the night. She rummaged through the pack that was slung over her shoulder and bit off a chunk of stale bread. She found a tree with low enough branches that she could climb it, but still ascend high enough to be lost in the leaves and branches from any spectators below. Claire found a crook in the tree that she could burrow into to try and get some rest.
She awoke with a start and sweat on her brow. The entire night she had dreamt of his demise. What had that thing done to him? Her imagination ran wild. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her limbs which were sore from her “gallant” get away. Judging by the place of the sun, it was mid morning. She climbed slightly higher to get a better view of the area. What should be her next move? She decided that it was best to trudge forward. No point in going back. He was a goner and she had let it happen.
Claire gazed out into the distance, and saw a small cottage several miles ahead. Surely the inhabitants would be able to help her. Surely they would understand her struggle. Claire climbed down and started off towards the cabin.
Claire reflected on leaving him behind to die. Clarie’s grandmother warned her about all of the evil outside of their small town of Elmwood.
“There are monsters out there Claire, and they always come for us Nacyl women” she’d say. “There is only one thing that can protect you, thislocket with our family crest inside”.
Claire’s grandmother had given her the locket when she was very young, and Claire wore it day in and day out. Every woman of the Nacyl clan had one of these lockets, but Claire didn’t buy into the idea that it was protecting her from anything. She wore it more out of habit than some ominous superstition.
Claire continued through the woods in the direction of the cabin. The many creaks and cracks of the forest heightened her sense of fear. “Stay strong” she thought to herself. Claire had always been a strong and independent person. Like she had any choice! Her mother had disappeared when she was just 12 years old. Her father was constantly working to provide for their family. Her Grandmother was the only real role model that Claire had in her life. Claire had always wondered what had happened to her mother. There was no note, no trace of her left. She even left her family locket on the floor in her bedroom. It’s as if she simply vanished.
Finally, she reached the clearing and had a clear view of the cabin. The building was old, and covered in moss and vines. It was made of stone with metal shutters over the windows. As she approached the front door, she realized that the door was also outlined in metal. She looked closely and it appeared to be tarnished silver. “Strange” she thought, but the inhabitants’ architectural choices were of little concern to her at this point. Claire knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Claire had come too far to give up now. She banged with her fist as hard as she could on the door, and as she did so, the door opened.
She cautiously peaked her head in the doorway and looked to the left and right. She stepped inside, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. As soon as she crossed the threshold the door slammed behind her. “Shit”, she muttered. She could start to make out a bare room with only a few pieces of furniture. There were three doorways branching off from the main room. Claire tried to focus her hearing to figure out if someone was there.
How did the door open? She swung around and looked at the door she had entered, but couldn’t find any mechanism that would cause it to open on its own. When she turned back around she saw that one of the three doors was cracked open. She crept toward it on her tiptoes, her soft leather shoes moving silently across the dusty floor. Claire peeked through the crack of the door into a bright light.
The light was coming from a small round window in the ceiling. Blinded by the sunlight,Claire averted her eyes to the floor t. She took a step back and threw open the door. Her hope was that if someone was in the room, she would take them by surprise. No one jumped or emerged from the room, except a voice.
“Hello Claire” a woman’s voice intoned (“Hello Clarice”, from Silence of the Lambs, floated through her head) from behind the rays of light.
“Who are you?” Claire demanded, “More like where are you?”, she thought. She stepped into the room curious to find the origin of the voice. Behind the rays of blinding light, in the back dark corner of the room, sat a woman. She was radiant; it seemed as though she brightened up the dark corner of the room. Though small the room seemed to stretch on forever. As she walked forward Claire smelled the faint scent of lavender and lemons. This scent scratched a familiar itch in the back of her brain, but she couldn’t place it. “Who are you?” Claire insisted when she realized that her question had gone unanswered.
“I Am Amelia” The voice replied.
Claire was confused. She didn’t know any named Amelia, but then how did she know her name? “Do I know you?” Claire inquired.
“Not yet, but I knew that we would meet some day.”
The cryptic nature of this back and forth began to frustrate Claire. “Then you must know why I’m here”. The floorboards creaked as the woman began to walk toward her. Claire stepped back, unsure of this Amelia’s intent.
Amelia stepped into the light. She was tall with dark brown hair tied into a french braid. She wore a pair of dark jeans and a red leather jacket.
Claire was surprised, she had expected someone much older, but she guessed that Amelia wasn’t much older than she was. “What’s going on here?” Claire asked, still very confused.
“You saw it right? The monster in the woods? “
“I…I don’t know what I saw exactly,” Claire replied. She knew she had seen a creature that was maybe six feet tall, very hairy with lots of teeth. “ I saw…”
“The creature you saw was a werewolf”. Amelia interrupted.
“Pshhh” Claire scoffed. But then she went silent. Claire realized the creature that had come between her and Harry, was a goddamn werewolf.
“There used to be several that inhabited this forest, but now only one”. Amelia further explained “Sometimes there are extreme mutations of the lycanthropic gene, Once the carrier turns into a werewolf, they never change back”
This was all too much for Claire to take in. The monsters that her Grandmother had always warned of were real. Not just an urban legend, but they were living breathing monsters. “So then why are you here?”, she asked. “Why to kill them of course”. “And how exactly does one kill a werewolf?” Claire retorted
Amelia handed Claire an old journal from someone named Araham. The book was very old and looked heavily worn.
“Silver poisoning is the best way to Kill a werewolf, but that’s not the most important component.” She continued “The conditions must be exactly right. You should never attack during a full moon, that’s when they are at their strongest, but most importantly, you must have the right bait”
“Bait?” As Claire opened the book, she had remembered back to when her mother would tuck her into bed and read her bedtime stories.
“Its always helpful to have something familiar to the host, however by far the most important thing is a vulnerable human” Amelia, and the rest of the room had gone suddenly and eerily quiet.
The smell, Claire realized why it was so familiar now. Suddenly, Claire felt a sharp prick in her neck, and then emptiness.
Her vision was hazy and her head felt like she had drunk an entire keg of ale by herself. She tried to move but her limbs were bound. She felt the rough bark of a tree up against her cheek as she tried to turn her head. The sun had set and twilight was being swallowed by an enveloping darkness. The cool night air licked at her bare arms and cheeks. Claire tried to wriggle loose, but was unable to move. The previous events flashed in the back of her mind and she remembered how she got to this place. She was bait, live bait, for a creature who, up until now, she did not believe existed.
The night continued; darkness engulfed her. On the horizon she believed she saw some light rising. Maybe someone would come up the road and assist her, she fleetingly thought. Then, she saw it. The moon began to rise from the horizon. Bright as a lamp post and as big as a house. She heard a distant howl. What can I do? Unfortunately there was no one to outrun this time. She thought back to how she left Harry there with the monster that was now coming to destroy her. She wondered what would happen..does a werewolf bite to turn or bite to kill humans. All the stories her Grandmother had told her were just make believe, right? Legends of silver bullets, red cloaks, wolf’s bane, what could you actually believe?
Time passed, though Claire wasn’t sure how much; the only way to tell was the steady rise of the gigantic sphere in the sky. She hadn’t heard anymore howling in quite a long time. In fact, she hadn’t heard much of anything… how long had the crickets gone quiet? Had there been frogs croaking? The slight breeze that had been causing a chill had abruptly ceased as well. A feeling of dread began to fill her heart. She heard something step out of the brush behind her. It’s padded feet touched the soft damp dirt, getting closer and closer to the tree to which she was tied.. She squirmed, but she knew it was fruitless. She relaxed her arms and her head fell to her chest. She was defeated. She lifted her head to face the monster and look it in the face. “She had always hoped that when she faced danger she would be courageous. Now she knew.”