MicroHorror

“So how is your uncle doing?”

Mike shrugged. “About the same. Still believes he’s a…”

“Werewolf?” Gerry offered, looking away so he wouldn’t embarrass Mike any more than he already was.

“Yeah.”

Mike’s Uncle Leo was locked away in the Siodmak Asylum. People with wild and sometimes dangerous delusions were confined there and hopefully cured in time. It was the best treatment available in 1958.

Uncle Leo was found, naked, bloody and unconscious, next to a dead dog on County Road 6 at daybreak a month ago. He told the police he was a werewolf and had killed the dog in his werewolf form, which, of course, had reversed at dawn. The dog had been ripped apart. Police figured he used heavy-duty hunting knives. So Leo was committed to Siodmak.

“It’s too bad. I always liked your Uncle Leo, he was a good guy.”

Mike’s temper flared. “He’ll be all right, he’ll get cured, get his sanity back, and he will be fine again.” The two teenagers sat on the secluded cliff, overlooking Ankers River down below. The location was used as a lover’s lane by the small New England town’s high school population. It was a wet October so the river was high. Fog drifted around the banks.

Gerry stood up, stretched and kicked at a rock. “I heard Leo has a pentagram on his skin.”

Mike tossed a rock down into the river. “I think he cut it into himself, as, you know, proof that he was a…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“Are you going to go visit him?”

“I have already.”

“How does he seem?”

“Totally convinced that he is a werewolf. And fearful of the next full moon; you know how the ‘curse’ works.” Mike leaned back on the weathered, and damp, picnic table. “He’s afraid he’ll escape and hurt somebody.”

“If he can escape Siodmak, he is a werewolf.” Mike shot Gerry an injured look, and Gerry added, “Sorry; I was just kidding, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Mike shook his head. “I know. It’s just… difficult. Kids snickering behind my back at school. Making werewolf faces and gestures from their cars. Especially that Ralph B., and his snooty girlfriend, Maria. They’re the worst. The ringleaders. God, how I hate them.” Mike got emphatic then. “Leo’s not a werewolf; he just had a nervous breakdown. That’s all. It happens to a lot of people.”

It got colder as the sun dipped lower in the sky. “We better head back home,” Gerry said, “be night soon.”

“Yeah,” Mike said sarcastically, “a full moon. And we know what that means.”

Mike’s phone woke him up. His alarm clock read 1:05. “Hello,” he mumbled.

“Mike? It’s Gerry. Have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Your uncle. Let me start at the beginning. A rainstorm blew through town around midnight, I guess, and the electricity went out. Power at Siodmak shut down. The door locks were opened and several people escaped, including Leo.”

“Why would he do that?” Mike sat up on the edge of the bed, “he wanted to be confined tonight.”

“Maybe he did, but… Listen, police were checking lover’s lane tonight and found the mangled bodies of Ralph and Maria. It’s all over the police band.” Gerry listened to police calls on his ham radio set.

“Holy crap,” Mike replied, “who would do that to–”

Gerry interrupted, “Did you tell your uncle how much you hated them?”

“Yeah, during my last visit with him.” Mike collected his thoughts. “Wait a minute, are you saying that Uncle Leo really is…”

“A werewolf? Yes. His room at Siodmak was ripped apart too, everything shredded, apparently before the electricity opened the door, and he went on the hunt.”

Mike walked to his window and opened it. “That’s crazy.”

From somewhere out near the Ankers River, Mike heard a wolf howl cut through the night.

• Copyright: © 2008 Rod Drake