Bring Your Friends
I used to spend a lot of time at the bus stop.
Not actually waiting for public transit, I’m pretty sure this bus stop had been removed from the Grand River Transit routes some time before, but it was a few slabs of concrete, grass growing up between the cracks, and it was perfect for skateboarding. I mentioned this place in my Skateboarding is for Life essay, many friendships were nurtured there. It’s sad to think that there was a time where I said goodbye to my friends, rolled away from that place, and never went back.
I mention the bus stop here because it was right down the street from the Wolf Man’s House.
There is no recollection in the channels of my brain that can tell me how my brother’s and I first started to “know” the weird looking brick house belonged to the Wolf Man. Yet, the odd looking structure, with its flat face and weird brick squares seemed suitably different enough to be able to lend credence to such a weird story.
The origins of the Wolf Man, as described by Scott to his little brother in this tale, are pretty much how I remember the story going as a kid. As far as I know, the story is nothing but fiction, yet my mind would also drift to that dark tale every time I drove by that house, set back into the hillside, a wall of trees rising behind it.
This is one of the first short stories I ever put to the page, and for that reason it will always hold a special place on the shelves of my physical and mental libraries. When I sat down to re-read and polish this to publish here, I could still recall sitting in my university house, early in the morning, and writing these characters into existence. I only met with them for a brief period, but they left a stamp on me to be sure.
Publishing these early pieces can be difficult. It’s not my best writing and re-reading them with more experienced eyes tickles the urge to update, to change to “improve”.
Aside from grammar, spelling and punctuation mistakes, I ignore this urge. I want these stories to exist in the same state I created them originally. I want to be able to look from these stories I wrote in my late teens and early 20s, to those I am working on now in my early 30s, and see the improvement and growth that naturally comes from writing hundreds of thousands of words a year.
Thanks for reading,
J.J.W.
Cover design by Backpack Studios
Every town has one and Forest Glen is no exception. The house all the kids talk about. The “haunted” house. The one subject to countless games of truth or dare throughout the summer by kids heading home now that the streetlights have come on. But, not before stopping in front of 36 Crosstrack Avenue and, while teasing and laughing, they dare each other to ring the bell. All of them stare at the gaping windows, each feeling that same uneasy bubbling in their guts.1
“Watch out!” One of them blurts. There is laughing and playful shoving and after a few minutes of this all of them continue walking, trying to make it home for their curfews. None of them want to get grounded. Just like none of them will enter the front yard of 36 Crosstrack.
“That’s where the Wolf Man lives,” Scott said simply. Glancing at his little brother Billy who sat on the floor of his room. Scott was playing Tony Hawk on their old Nintendo 64. Billy watched in fascination as his brother tilted and squeezed the controller in his hands. Billy always loved hanging out in his brother’s room. Everything was so much different then his room. Billy’s room had his models, his old dinosaur wallpaper from when he was a kid, and the only smell was the fish tank which held his two goldfish. Scott’s room was a dark brown colour, which always reminded Billy of all the rich people’s houses he saw on the movies, Scott’s room had video games, and big textbooks from Scott’s high school and the smells were all different. The smells fascinated Billy. Colognes and deodorants covered Scott’s tall oak dresser which sat in the corner. All of their smells seemed to fill Scott’s bedroom. When he wasn’t home, Billy would stand at the dresser and pop all the lids off, smelling each of them individually. Billy would think of when he would buy cologne for the first time. Spraying it on his chest before his first day at high school, all the girls would smell him as he walked by, staring at his back as he passed.
“Who’s the Wolf Man?” Billy asked as Tony Hawk flew from one rail to the next. Boardslide to nose grind. No problem.
“He’s this guy,” Scott said pausing the game and turning to Billy. “He used to have wolves as pets in his backyard.” Billy looked up at his older brother. His long hair hung down around both sides of his face in thick brown curtains. The only light was from the TV in front of them, and as Billy stared at his brother the light drew deep shadows in the crevices of his face. The look kind of scared him.
“What?” Billy said. “N-no way.”
“Oh yeah,” Scott replied. He could see the fear in his little brothers face and loved it. “Used to starve them, barely ever fed them, always hitting the cages, stuff like that.” Billy’s mouth hung open as he listened. Scott continued.
“Then, one day, the latch on one of the cage doors didn’t click all the way after he tossed in their food.” Billy sat silent; the only sound was the music of Goldfinger singing Superman from the TV.
“Did they eat him?” Billy asked. He felt an uneasy bubbling in his stomach and had to clench his hands together to stop them from shaking. Relax Billy, he thought to himself, you’re eleven. He wished someone would turn on a light.
“Oh you know it Bill,” Scott said, shifting down from the bed to sit in front of his brother. “But it was slow,” Billy’s eyes enlarged to about three times their size. Scott had to pinch the inside of his palm to keep from laughing.
“W-What happened to him?” Billy asked. He wanted to get up and leave, he really didn’t want to hear the rest, but something inside him really did want to hear it. If he could stand to listen, get the entire story, he could go and tell his friends. Scare them, just like his brother had scared him.
“They ate him of course,” Scott said. “Piece...by...piece.” At this Billy’s eyes dropped from Scott’s into his lap. “And you want to know what part they ate first?”
“What?” Billy asked, looking at him again, feeling his gaze literally being pulled back.
“It was,” and Scott slapped his hands together an inch from Billy’s nose, causing him to jump to his feet faster than a cat splashed with water, letting out a loud screech at the same time. “His dick!” Scott finished.
“Scott!” Billy yelled, but it sounded more like sssscaaaaaaaaaat! “You’re lying!”
But Scott didn’t answer because he was on the ground clutching his ribs with laughter. Just then the light flicked on and both boys froze. Billy’s eyes immediately flew to the digital clock below Scott’s TV, 11:24, he had been put to bed one hour and twenty-four minutes ago. His mother didn’t say anything. She was a strict woman, but not much for discipline.
“Sorry Mom,” he said hanging his head. She only pointed down the hall toward his bedroom. Billy obeyed. Martha Townsend didn’t say anything to her older son either, just gave him the you-know-better look and shut his door.
Billy couldn’t fall asleep that night. Laying awake, staring at the ceiling and the shadows which danced across the stucco, Billy’s stomach rolled uneasily as the story Scott told him replayed itself in his mind. His own active imagination created pictures to go along with Scott’s words. Rolling, pulling the sheets, Billy clenched his eyes to push the pictures away, only to have them all come racing back once he relaxed. He was restless, the fear seeming to twitch and itch at his legs, bubbling the food in his stomach. As much as it scared him, he felt an urge to go to that house. He didn’t know why, but the thought excited him, even through the fear that filled his limbs. If he went to that house and found out it was nothing, this feeling would go away right? After a few hours, Billy drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The next day he woke up in a pool of sweat. A combination of the demented dreams he’d been having and the sun pouring in from the window beside his bed. Throwing the sheets off and getting out of bed, Billy almost dislocated his shoulder trying to pry off the sweaty flannel pyjamas he’d been wearing. When he finally freed himself from their grasp, he walked naked across his room to the closet on the other side, all the while keeping his ears perked for a creak or sign of somebody coming down the hall. He didn’t want someone walking in on him butt naked: not Scott, not Dad, and especially not Mom. After pulling on some shorts and a t-shirt, Billy could hear the clinging and clanging of plates from the kitchen and knew his mother was making breakfast. Opening his door he made his way down the narrow hall past his parents door on the left, and passed Scott’s closed door on the right. Entering the kitchen, Billy was trying to remember why he’d been wearing flannel PJs in the summer time, when his mother’s voice broke his thoughts.
“Good morning sweetie,” she said placing plates around the table. “A little tired this morning, are we?”
“No,” Billy lied. If truth be told, he was exhausted. He wondered how his brother could stay up so late all the time. He sat on his side of the table facing the large glass windows which made up the one wall of the kitchen. Behind him, Billy could hear (and smell) his mother making bacon, and could hear the eggs sizzle as they hit the hot skillet. The day was sunny. This made Billy happy as he, Tom, Louis and Ronnie were going down to the pond. Tom wanted to do some fishing. He said that you could catch catfish the size of your arm in that pond. Billy didn’t believe him, but still, Billy loved to fish. Wiping the crust from his eyes, something big and heavy pounded him on the back.
“Morning wimp,” Scott said as he dropped into the chair across from him.
“I’m not a wimp,” Billy retorted. Though he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to look at his brother.
“Wimp,” Scott repeated. “Wimp, wimp wimp.” The chanting seemed to echo in Billy’s head.
“That’s enough Scott,” his mother’s voice cut him off. Scott stopped but continued on in silent laughter. Billy took to investigating his palms laying open in his lap, waiting for his brother to stop laughing at him, and holding back the tears. You’re not a pussy Bill. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He sniffed back the tears as Scott stopped laughing
“It’s okay Bill,” Scott said, reaching across the table knocking his shoulder. His tone had changed, and Bill brought his chin up from his chest. “It’s alright to be scared sometimes,” Scott said. “Everyone is.”
“You’re not,” Billy found himself saying. He couldn’t remember one time in his eleven years where his brother had been scared of anything. Even when they watched those Friday the 13th movies, Scott was never scared, he always laughed at them. Scott scared? Yeah right. No way.
“Oh I am Bill, people just hide it different ways.”
Billy looked at his brother and saw that he wasn’t joking, and this wasn’t just another story. The sun reflected off the varnish on the table creating bright streaks across the wall. Billy heard the toaster pop. “You remember what I told you last night?”
“Yeah,” he answered. He was weary. He didn’t want to hear anymore of that story thank you very much.
“Well,” Scott said glancing over at their mom who was still flipping eggs. ‘You stay away from that house, okay?” Billy stared at his brother whose eyes were very wide. He waited for his face to break, a laugh to start or a grin, but nothing came. “Some of the stories are just...weird, and I don’t want you getting in any trouble, okay?”
“Okay,” Billy said. He turned around to see if his mom was done with the eggs, he didn’t like that look in his brother’s eye. It kind of scared him.
Scott stared at the back of his little brother’s head. The little brother he’d always taken care of throughout school. Helping him up from the ground, hanging out with him when his friends were home sick or away on vacation, giving him lunch when Billy forgot his, that sort of thing. Why did he tell him that story? Scott shook his head. It was nothing anyways right? Billy was a smart kid and always listened to his big brother.
After finishing breakfast, and without another word about 36 Crosstrack or the Wolf Man, Billy said goodbye to his mom and headed down the street to Ronnie’s house. It was the summer ritual now that school was finally done. Billy would spend the days outside, doing whatever it was that Ronnie, Louis and Tom wanted to do. Usually this meant hanging out by the pond where they would play manhunt, or ride bikes. Some days were more interesting than others. One time, Tom had stolen some cigarettes off his Dad’s dresser and they had smoked them. Coughing the whole time, but they felt cool.
Billy’s elongated shadow bobbed along the sidewalk in front of him as he made his way to Ronnie’s. Staring at his Converse, thoughts of the Wolf Man,and 36 Crosstrack kept pushing back into his head. They had pulled him to pieces. Bit his dick off.
“Hey Bill!” The yell caused Billy to jump back almost an entire sidewalk block. Without even realizing he had walked almost the entire three streets to Ronnie’s house. Ronnie was now running down the thin track of concrete that snaked across his front lawn. “What’s up man?” he asked, now out of breath. Ronnie wasn’t what most people would call fat, but he was rather big for a twelve year old. Sweat was already running down from below his thick brown bowl cut. Billy watched as the trickles traced their way through the roll beneath his chin before he answered.
“Not much,” he said still staring. He was trying not to think about the Wolf Man story anymore, but it was almost as if his mind had forgotten how to think about anything else. When he forced the thoughts of 36 Crosstrack out of his mind, there was nothing left but blank space. It felt to Billy like his mind was staring at a wide empty blackboard.
“You look messed up Bill, you okay?” Again Ronnie’s voice awoke him from his daze.
“Oh, uh...yeah.” Billy answered, “I’m cool.”
“Cool,” Ronnie answered. His shoulder had been a little slouched when he asked how Billy was feeling, but at this they perked right up again. “Today’s gonna be awesome,” Ronnie said. “Tom and Louis are already down there I think.” He looked off in the general direction of the pond, like he would be able to see Tom and Louis through all the trees and houses.
Billy could see the wind blowing through the leaves in the tall trees. The orange, yellow and red branches seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Coming to the intersection at the end of Ronnie’s street, he slammed his fist on the pedestrian walk button continuously until the amber hand changed to the white walking man. They crossed the street, neither of them talking. Then Billy spoke.
“You know about 36 Crosstrack right, Ron?”
“Yeah,” he said kicking a crushed pop can, which skidded and jumped over the cracks in the sidewalk. “What about it?” He aimed another kick at the can.
“Well you know, like, about what happened there or whatever?” Billy didn’t want to come right out and say it. You know about the Wolf Man right, Ron? He didn’t want to sound childish, or be laughed at.
“What you mean?” Ronnie asked, leaving the can as it skidded onto the grass. Walking side by side, Ronnie stood about the same height as Bill, maybe an inch or two taller. Billy turned and looked into his friend’s eyes.
“You know about the Wolf Man, right?” Billy waited, fearing that Ronnie was going to laugh at him. Call him a baby, then he would tell Louis and Tom. Billy’s afraid of the Wolf Man! Afraid of 36 Crosstrack! To tell the truth, Billy was scared. Images of a shredded corpse roaming the halls of that house, pulling the blinds away with its bloody stumps to see all the kids joking out front, daring each other to come near. Ronnie started to laugh. Billy’s heart plummeted down, splashing into his stomach.
“Ye-yeah.” Ronnie said through his giggles. “They’re so stupid.”
“Oh yeah,” Billy said a little too quickly. “Yeah I know, so what...” Billy trailed off, breathing deep. “You don’t think the wolves ate him?”
Billy and Ronnie walked about three blocks then cut down a gravel path behind a building with a faded yellow sign reading Steve’s Auto in big, wavy, red letters. The chain-link fence, running down both sides of the path was lined with various fast-food containers, plastic bags, and cigarette butts. Ronnie hadn’t said anything after Billy asked his question, he hadn’t laughed either, which Billy was relieved about. Looking over at him, Ronnie’s bowl cut bounced on top of his round head with each step. Ronnie was staring at his feet, apparently deep in thought.
“I don’t know, Bill,” Ronnie said. “It could have happened, I guess, but my brother told me something else too.” Billy froze, his feet crunching against the gravel as they practically skidded to a halt.
“What did he tell you, Ron?” Billy’s mind was racing again, had Scott not told him something? Ronnie laughed again, but it was different this time, not as loud as before.
“It’s all stupid Bill,” he said again. “My brother told me that after the wolves ate him, he didn’t die, and came back as this, like monster or something, which eats all the kids who try and ring his doorbell.” He gave another quiet laugh when he finished. “It’s all bullshit obviously,” he added.
The path, lined with thick bushes growing on the opposite side of the fence, began to fade away and the pond came into view. It was a small pond, not much bigger than a swimming pool. The water was a dark brown, surrounded by various trees and bushes, some growing out over its surface. Many of these they had all climbed on, a game to see who would go the highest and furthest out over the water. Tom usually always won these contests. Laughing wildly he would call them all pussies and wimps. One time he had flipped them off after reaching the top, but his hand slipped when he tried to wrap his hand back around the tree. Falling sideways off the tree, his jeans had caught on a knot in the wood ripping a huge hole in the ass of his pants. All three of them laughed and pointed as they saw his Power Rangers underwear as he fell into the pond. Tom had been so mad, he stormed off without a word to any of them.
Billy could see Tom and Louis, both with fishing rods, sitting on the large rocks the city placed to make the pond more “people friendly”. Tom and Louis both had long hair hanging almost to their shoulders. Both of them wore ripped jeans, Tom with a black t-shirt, and Louis with a red. Just as Billy turned to Ronnie to tell him not to saying anything to the other guys, he was already running down the edge of the water, big arms flopping at his sides. Billy bolted after him, his Converse kicking up loose gravel, and stray rocks bounced off his calves as he ran.
“Hey guys,” Billy said while gasping for breath. Ronnie and Bill took a seat between Louis and Tom, who both gave a “hey Bill,” as he sat down. Then silence. Billy knew that Ronnie had already spilled everything to them before he had reached the pond. Looking from Louis with his shaggy blonde hair and pointed chin, to Tom with his brown hair and features that always reminded Billy of his dad for some reason, he knew they were both trying to stifle their laughs.
“Alright, either shit, or get off the pot, okay?” Billy said frustrated. At this, they both spat, their laughs echoing around the pond.
“R-really Bill?” Louis choked, his fishing rod almost slipping over the edge into the water.
“Scared of old 36 Crossttrack are ya Billy-boy? Tom said falling back on his hands. The cigarette that had been tucked behind his ear fell out and rolled off the rock into the dirt.
“Screw you guys,” Billy said. “I’m not scared.” He looked out over the water. He hated more than anything to be laughed at.
“Sorry Bill,” Ronnie said leaning close to his ear so the others wouldn’t hear him. Billy didn’t look at him and didn’t answer.
“We should go check it out,” Tom said brushing dirt off the cigarette and replacing it behind his ear. Dropping his hand, the stubborn cigarette fell out and this time rolled off the rock into the pond. “Son of a bitch,” Tom said watching the cigarette bobbing before him.
“Yeah,” Louis said, excitement growing in his voice. If Tom thought something was a good idea, Louis definitely agreed. Ronnie’s hair was bouncing back and forth across his forehead as he looked from Tom to Louis, his mouth hanging open in a perfect O.
“No way guys,” Ronnie said. “Right Bill? You don’t want to go do you?”
Across the pond, Billy could see a family of ducks wading into the water through a thicket of reeds. The sun reflected off the water, shimmering as the wind rippled its surface. He turned and looked at Tom who was staring at him with a smirk on his face. The smirk was a dare. If Billy said no, he would be named a pussy for life.
“Yeah,” Billy said looking back out across the pond. The ducklings were now swimming behind their mother in a tight group. “Let’s do it tonight.”
Nobody said anything after that. That same feeling of excitement mingled with terror filled him. If he went maybe he would be able to get some sleep tonight. From the corner of his eye, Billy could see Ronnie’s head drop to his chest. Well, Billy thought, at least someone is more scared than I am.
For Billy, the day at the pond seemed to take a week. He watched Tom and Louis attempt to catch the “giant cat fish”, which apparently lived at the bottom of the pond and listened to them tease Ronnie about his fresh bowl cut.
Billy’s mind kept returning to what his brother had said that morning. You stay away from that house, okay Bill? Scott had been so serious. Billy wondered what his brother would do if he knew he was about to do exactly what he told him not to do.
The sun started to go down behind the large trees on the opposite side of the pond. The family of ducks had long since retreated back through the reeds to their nest home. The four boys still sat along the rocks. Tom was leaning back smoking a cigarette, having found a semi-crushed one in a tin in his pocket. Ronnie was sitting with his knees clutched up around his chest. Bill sat cross-legged staring out over the pond and Louis was spitting, seeing how far he could make it go. Haaaccccck to!
Then Billy stood up. “Let’s go then,”
“Friggin right,” Tom said jumping to his feet, flicking the cigarette off into the water with all the finesse of a seasoned smoker. The orange tip cartwheeled through the dark then disappeared. Ronnie and Louis didn’t say anything, only rose silently and gathered around Billy and Tom.
“Alright,” Louis said. “Let’s do it.” Tom turned and headed toward a path to their left. The path Ronnie and Billy had come down snaked off behind them, back in the direction of home, the direction of safety. This one disappeared into a dark cave of trees. None of them spoke. Billy felt like every nerve in his body was awake and ready. He could hear the squirrels jumping through the undergrowth as they passed, the leaves rustling and crunching beneath their tiny feet. The damp smell of the rotting wood filled his nose. He thought he could practically see the grubs and beetles squirming within their soggy, decomposing wooden habitats. Reaching the other side of the forest, the night grew brighter as they came out from beneath the trees.
Louis was walking in front of him, Ronnie beside him. Where the heck was Tom? Suddenly, something grabbed his ankle. Billy thought he could feel thick matted hair, smell the thick drool falling from an open mouth full of big yellow, blood stained fangs. Jumping into the air, he whirled around, his hands flying up somewhere over his head. Then the laughing started again. It was Tom. Obviously it was Tom.
“Got you good Billy-boy,” Tom said pushing him.
“Screw you man,” Billy said pushing him back. This was equal to Billy pushing an elephant. Tom was much bigger than he was and the force of his push just died off on Tom’s arm like a gentle breeze.
The path through the forest had led into an open field. A grown over ball diamond sat to their left and streetlights marked Alden Road up ahead of them. Running perpendicular to Alden, and straight ahead of the boys was Crosstrack Ave. The houses on Crosstrack, for the most part, were empty. Boarded up windows, broken fences, garbage filled front lawns, and graffiti were the norm in this suburb.
Tom felt like he was on top of the world as he led the other three down Crosstrack. Such wimps, he thought to himself. He had walked by 36 Crosstrack hundreds of times having lived in the other part of town his whole life. I’ll be the one to have to go ring the bell, he thought, shaking his head. Looking back, he could see Bill staring into the broken windows of the houses. The truth was, he liked Bill the most out of any of them. Ronnie was just a fat baby, and Louis was just so annoying following him around all the time. Bill was quiet, kept to himself. Tom slowed, falling back to walk in step with Billy, his shoulders swaying in a slight strut as they neared 36 Crosstrack.
“You gonna ring the bell?” Tom asked. Billy had been staring into the dark pits which were the windows of passing houses when he suddenly stopped. He could hear Tom talking to him but, he didn’t catch what was said. What the hell was that? His mind raced. There was something through a gap in two boards nailed over one of the windows. It was white, standing out against the darkness like a glow stick. Again he saw it, but this time it was in the top window of the same house. Is it a person? He thought. It looked like it was glowing. The white was clearly visible as the thing popped into the downstairs window again. When he blinked it was gone. Just the streetlights Bill, he told himself.
When Billy didn’t answer him, Tom shook his head and turned away. Billy tried to catch up with the others but his legs seemed to be made of wood. His heart was beating through his ribcage and sweat was now forming on his scalp and beneath his arms.
The moon was high in the sky, and the light reflected off the pavement of Crosstrack. Most of the streetlights were out, and Billy prayed that the one in front of 36 would still be working. As Billy walked, not looking where he was going, he ran square into Tom’s back.
“Billy man, what the heck?” Tom said stumbling forward a step. Billy mouthed sorry. He tried to speak, but no sound had come out. The four of them were now standing out front of 36 Crosstrack.
The house was tall, and seemed to loom over the four of them. It leaned out over the street, as if prepared to swallow any kid who dared ring the bell. None of these windows had been boarded up, which Billy found odd. Staring into them, they seemed to hypnotize you. Billy didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t break his eyes away. Then before any of them said a word Tom was away and walking up the front lawn.
“Wait!” Ronnie yelled after him. The tiny paved path, which the grass was successfully swallowing, ran from the sidewalk directly up to the porch. Tom was already half way up.
Tom heard Ronnie yell but didn’t turn around. Such pussies, he thought to himself. He took the three steps leading up to the small porch at a bound. Standing on the porch, not three feet from the door, he turned around and saw all three of them staring at him. Ronnie’s mouth hung open. Louis was leaning over the fence staring at him. Billy was standing back, practically on the road, not looking at him. Billy was staring up at the house.
“Nothing to it boys,” he yelled back at them. Turning he pressed his finger onto the small door bell.
Staring up at the windows, Billy was once again hypnotized by the blackness. The darkness was like an abyss trying to pull him closer. Tom was up on the porch yelling at them. Then Billy saw it again. The white thing. Again it was only for a second. It was in the window, then when Tommy started to yell it vanished. Billy tried to scream, tried to warn Tom, but his throat was dry, his head felt light and he thought he was going to throw up. Then Tom was making his way back down the path.
The minute Tom’s finger touched the doorbell a feeling of numbness fell over him. He felt light, happy, he felt good. Looking around he could see the fading paint of the house, the door bell and turning around he saw the others. Then the voice started speaking to him.
Hello Tommy. It said in a soft quiet tone. Tom wanted to reply, but the signals which usually went from his brain to his mouth to create a reply, were not responding. He tried to turn around and go back to the others, the light happy feeling was fading and he was starting to get scared, but his legs and arms just wouldn’t work. It was like he was pushing on a brick wall trying to get it to move. You should go back to the sidewalk Tommy, the voice said. Then he felt his neck turning, but he wasn’t doing it, like a hand had just palmed the top of his head and turned it like the cap on a bottle. He saw the others standing there.
Come on Tommy. Go back. Bring your friends.
Tom wanted to go, wanted to run, but his legs were like hardened cement. He wanted to cry now. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and it hurt. The fear was running through his veins like pins. As he stood there, a puppet, he was crying but no tears were coming out of his eyes. He was crying inside the cage which was now his own body. Then his legs began to move and he found himself walking back toward the others. He tried to yell, tried to pry his own mouth open and yell at them to run. Something was wrong, run Billy. Run! Get the hell out. But, no words came out, he only smirked. He was walking toward them, his arms dangling limply at his sides. Then he was speaking, but he wasn’t doing it.
“Come on guys,” his voice said to them. Closing his eyes inside his head, Tom tried to push, tried to push on the walls which were holding him inside.
Now, now, the voice said to him, you be a good boy and maybe I’ll eat you first. Then you won’t have to watch as I rip out each of your friends spinal cords through their necks. Again Tom started to cry, falling back against the walls keeping him confined in his subconscious. He had never prayed before, but he prayed now. He prayed that they would run. He didn’t want his friends to die because of him.
“You okay there, Tom?” Louis said. “That was sick.” Louis was smiling looking at his best friend.
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Come back up with me. I want to go inside.” Ronnie was staring at Tom and something was odd about him. Before he could figure out what, Tom’s arm was around his shoulder. “You’ll come won’t you, Ronnie.”
“Yeah,” Ronnie found himself saying. But Ronnie didn’t want to go. Never wanted to go in a million years, but he couldn’t say it. He tried to open his mouth to say, Hell no Tom! No way! But he couldn’t.
Louis’s mouth fell open as Ronnie agreed. That’s crazy, he thought. They’re all just messing with me.
“Yeah, okay Tom, I’ll go,” he said walking up to him. Smiling he went to whisper in Tom’s ear. Tell him he was in on the joke and that they should just scare the shit out of Ronnie together. Then Tom’s hand was on his shoulder, and a voice broke across his thoughts.
Louis, the voice said, go on, bring you friend. Then his neck was being turned. Louis didn’t know how, but he was staring at Billy. His arms and legs were moving on their own. Louis tried to stop it, but he couldn’t. Louis was scared now too. If his body hadn’t been moving on its own, he would have been scared stiff. He couldn’t control himself as he advanced on Billy.
Billy knew everything was wrong. The minute Ronnie had agreed so readily to go into the house, he knew that something was wrong. First that white thing, then Ronnie, the biggest baby agreeing to go locked it in for him. He saw Louis coming toward him and there was no way he was going near that house. Picking up a broken fence board he yelled at Louis.
“I’m not going man,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m not going in that house so stay away from me.” Louis kept walking, he didn’t say anything. He was like a zombie. Then Billy saw something in his eyes. A white glow. It was faint, gone before he knew it was really there, but he saw it, a white flash. Something was wrong with Louis. Something was wrong with Tom and Ronnie as well. “Don’t come near me Louis,” Billy said holding the fence board over his shoulder. “I’ll hit you I swear,” Billy warned again. Backing up down the sidewalk, the full moon was shining above Louis’s head. Tom and Ronnie were standing at the gate leading up to 36 Crosstrack like two dogs waiting for their master’s signal. Stopping in front of the neighbouring house to 36, Billy made his stand. “Stop it Louis, don’t come near me.” Still Louis kept walking, his face blank that white light sparkled again in his eyes. And as his arm rose slowly from his side, Billy swung. He had played three years of rookie ball when he was younger and knew how to swing a baseball bat. The edge of the fence post collided with Louis’s cheek. Blood shot from his mouth and two white chunks, which Billy thought were teeth, catapulted into the air. Louis was thrown from the sidewalk, his body splashing onto the cement like a rag doll. The blood ran from his mouth into his blond hair. Before Billy had a chance, he was getting up again, his head turned almost completely around looking at him. It reminded Billy of the scene in The Exorcist where the girls head spins a complete 360. Again Billy swung before he was completely upright, tears swam in front of his eyes and popped out with the impact of the board. The flat part of it hit Louis across the face. This time there was a loud slapping noise as the board collided with his cheek, and a sick cracking noise which was Louis’s cheekbone breaking in two. Billy was balling now, tears were running down his face as he stared at his bloodied friend lying sprawled in the gutter. He took a few steps back, waiting to have to hit him again. Louis’s head was turned toward him, staring blankly. Then his body got up and Billy held the board up again. But, this time Louis began to walk away, back toward the house. Looking toward the house he saw Ronnie and Tom, now standing on the front porch, and the thing behind them made Billy freeze, the fence board still held up around his head.
The creature was completely white. Its body looked like that of a normal human, with exception of the white fur. The head was bigger than any humans with a jaw that hung low, almost to its waist. Huge, white teeth shone in the moonlight. They almost seemed to smile at him. Big cylinders that were the creatures eyes, stared down at him on the sidewalk. One of its hands was on Tom’s shoulder, the other on Ronnie’s. The creature had to have been nine feet tall, its skinny alien like head was slouched down to avoid the porch roof. It filled the entire door way. As Louis reached them his head still sitting at an odd angle on his neck, his three friends turned and disappeared into the house. The creature and Billy stood there staring at each other. Long tendrils of saliva ran down the creature’s mouth. It pooled in front of the big spike like teeth before splashing onto the porch. It turned, back toward the door, its curved spine almost seemed to poke through the skin of its back as it came to a point above its shoulders. As it squeezed through the door the Wolf Man turned and raised one long five knuckled finger, pointing at him. Then a voice spoke into his head.
Come back again, the voice said, and bring your friends.
The first thing Billy did was throw up his mom’s bacon and eggs onto the sidewalk. Then he ran. Not stopping until his was in his bed, the covers wrapped around his entire body like a cocoon. Thinking back, he thought he’d be able to sleep tonight, now he figured he would never sleep again.
This was six years ago. To this day Billy does not enter the other part of town. And at night, he can still hear the voice.
Come back...and bring your friends...