Werewolves vs Cheerleaders

by Mia Archer

  “I need to get a shot of this thing,” he said. “We didn’t get this close to turn and run.”

  “Our funeral,” I muttered.

  “Come on Cara,” Jack said. “You don’t have to be so dramatic!”

  “I’m just saying the two of you were supposed to be investigating the paranormal, not doing a reenactment of Lonely Planet meets An American Werewolf in the Midwest,” I said.

  Griffin leaned forward and parted some of the branches. I stared into a clearing that was familiar enough. It was a common stop for anyone who’d gone on a nature walk through the preserve to clear their head, or anyone who’d been forced to go on a nature walk as part of a biology class.

  Which made the hulking monstrosity in the middle of that clearing even more out of place. It was a reminder that no matter how quiet and safe and civilized we might think the world around us was, there was always the danger of running into something big and scary that doesn’t belong in modern man’s conception of how the world works.

  No matter how we might kid ourselves that we ran things on this planet, there were still dark areas on the map where there be dragons. Or, in the case of what I was staring at in the clearing, here there be werewolves.

  Literally.

  The thing was huge. Like we’re talking it was so big and broad shouldered that at first I thought I was looking at a Bigfoot.

  The thing knelt over a dead deer, digging into it and pulling out blood and guts and entrails. And that’s when I got a good look at the snout.

  That was no ape, or giant hidden ape adjacent creature that haunted the Pacific Northwest.

  No, a snout like that could only belong to something from the canine family. Those four fingers and the thumbs on its hands could only belong to something that had transformed into a wolf from a more human form. No matter how impossible it seemed, I was staring at a fucking werewolf.

  My body shivered and shook. This didn’t happen in the real world. It was the kind of thing that happened to poor sons of bitches in horror movies.

  Only I’d landed smack dab in the middle of a horror movie. My long nightmare from all those horror movie marathons my brothers forced me to sit through were finally coming true. I nearly lost control of my bladder as I stared at the thing.

  “What do you think it is?” Jack hissed.

  “Are you serious?” I hissed. “What do I think it is? It’s a fucking werewolf!”

  I don’t know why I was whispering. If that thing really was a wolf then it could hear what we were saying. It just hadn’t decided to bother with us. Yet. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the terrified gibbering part of my brain that had taken control was telling me it couldn’t mean anything good.

  As though on cue, the clouds up above parted and shone down on the thing. It revealed a full moon up above, because of course there was a full moon up above. What else was I expecting staring at a werewolf?

  The thing looked up at the moon and let out a couple of low growls. As though it was pleased to see the moon. And why not? I’m sure the full moon was the thing’s best fucking friend.

  “I don’t know,” Griffin whispered, hitting the button on his camera to record. “It might be a dogman.”

  “A what?” I said.

  “A dogman,” Jack said, like it should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Are you talking about that fucking thing that’s a werewolf with a different name?” I hissed. “The one you were talking about in class a few days ago?”

  “You looked it up?” he asked.

  So sue me. I’d been bored in our English lecture, and I’d decided looking up the cryptid they were talking about would be more fun than listening to our prof droning on about folktales and whether or not they had a shred of truth to them.

  “You guys do realize there wasn’t a recorded sighting of those things before that radio DJ in Michigan played his song in the ‘80s, right?”

  “The records are inconclusive,” Griffin said.

  “They seemed pretty fucking conclusive to me,” I said.

  “Sure, if you want to believe Wikipedia or Snopes,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

  “Besides, what do you call that thing out in the clearing?” Griffin asked.

  “I call it a fucking werewolf,” I hissed. “And that means we need to get the fuck out of here before it realizes we’re here and kills our asses!”

  “So dramatic,” Griffin said, rolling his eyes.

  “I’m dramatic because we’re about to die!”

  I tried to keep my voice down as I argued with them. After all, if there was one thing I’d learned from horror movies, it’s that making noises when the scary monster was busy doing its own thing was a terrible idea. That was a good way to have the scary monster go from doing its own thing to deciding its new thing was chasing you through the woods.

  “I don’t care what you guys say,” I said. “That thing’s a fucking werewolf, and we need to get the fuck out of here!”

  “Dogman,” Griffin said, sounding like he was correcting a wayward student and definitely not taking me seriously.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I hissed. “That thing is a seven foot tall man thing with furry hair, a snout like a wolf, and it looks like it’s been taking workout tips from Schwarzenegger. It has claws and teeth that it’s using to rip into Bambi, and it could just as easily be using those claws and teeth to rip into us if it realizes we’re here!”

  “I’m telling you Cara,” Jack said. “It’s nothing that you need to worry about. Dogmen might seem scary, but they’re reluctant to attack humans.”

  “You mean because they don’t exist?” I asked.

  “No, because in most encounters the creatures do bluff charges, then they run away when it’s clear the humans aren’t running.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe you only know about encounters where people survived because there wasn’t anyone left from the encounters where people got killed by these things?”

  Jack hit Griffin with a nervous glance. “She still has a point man,” he said. “Maybe it isn’t a good idea to stick around.”

  “You pussies can leave if you want,” he muttered. “I’m getting this video. Now if only I can get this damn camera to actually record something in the dark…”

  “The guys from An American Werewolf in London probably thought they were safe until they heard something howling on the moors,” I said. “Dee Wallace thought everything was hunky-dory in The Howling until her husband was attacked by werewolf creatures and started banging them in the forest, and then suddenly the emergency medical hologram from Voyager is ripping people to shreds. Gary Busey thought it was all a bunch of bullshit his niece and nephew were making up right until the moment a werewolf that looked more like a man in a bear suit burst through the wall and tried to attack him.”

  “Gary Busey got attacked by a werewolf?” Jack asked, sounding surprised. “Is that why he went crazy?”

  “He did,” I said. “It was the motorcycle accident that probably sent him off the deep end. The werewolf thing was in a movie. He managed to defeat it with the sheer power of his crazy. And Corey Haim with a gun.”

  “Is that the Corey from Friday the 13th, or the one from License to Drive?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Both Coreys were in License to Drive, and that’s beside the point. Those were all characters in horror movies who thought a werewolf wasn’t that big a deal, and they all ended up dead! Well, I guess Gary Busey didn’t end up dead, but the point still stands. That’s a fucking werewolf, and you have no idea what those things are capable of!”

  “You don’t know anything,” Griffin said, staring at me with disdain. “It’s a dogman. A cryptid. An undiscovered animal, and we just discovered it! I just have to get video proof.”

  He leaned forward and reached up for a button on his camera. And with a sinking twisting feeling in my stomach I realized exactly what he was going for.

  The light. Because he had a sh
itty camera that couldn’t see anything in the dark. So of course he was going to flip a light on so he could get a better video of the scary monster. Which would let the scary monster know we were hiding here watching it. Which would end in some of us getting our lungs ripped out, because I didn’t care what they said about that thing being a cryptid dog thing. That was a fucking werewolf.

  I’d already turned away from Griffin as he flicked the light on. I thought about trying to smack his hand away, but I knew he was the kind of asshole who’d keep trying to flip the light on until he won. Not to mention he was bigger than me and a scuffle would make noise that would alert the werewolf as much as a light. Basically there was no way out of this aside from running.

  I should’ve run the moment I heard something snapping off in the distance. I should’ve turned and run the moment…

  Well it was too late to worry about any of that now. The chance to turn and run earlier was gone, but I could sure as hell get away from these idiots now.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked. “Don’t you want to be a part of this discovery?”

  “I don’t want to be part of any discovery that has claws ripping up to grab my heart through my pelvis!” I said, panic gripping me as he reached out and grabbed my arm. “Let go.”

  “You’ll see,” Jack said. “Griffin knows exactly what he’s doing with these things. He’s studied this kind of stuff extensively.”

  “Not extensively enough to keep his ass from getting killed,” I said, tears coming to my eyes as I locked eyes with him. “Please. We’re all going to die.”

  “Just trust him,” Jack said.

  Only it was already too late. There was a click that sounded louder to my ears than any of the bones that’d been crunched. Light filled the clearing. It bounced off the leaves all around us. I’m sure it illuminated my terrified, tear streamed face. It illuminated Jack looking surprised that I was this terrified.

  And it illuminated the creature.

  The thing stood to its full height, giving us a terrifying view of the painful death and destruction that was about to be visited on us. I let out another whimper. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Like if I kept telling myself this couldn’t be happening then eventually I’d wake up or something.

  Blood dripped from the creature’s claws as its mouth turned up in a snarl. A low growl rumbled across the clearing, and it was loud enough that it rumbled deep in my chest.

  Oh yeah. That definitely wasn’t an animal that was terrified of us. It wasn’t some shy cryptid that ran away from humans after a bluff charge.

  No, that was a monster that knew it was the baddest motherfucker in the nature preserve, and it wasn’t happy to see us if the way it was flexing its claws was anything to go on.

  Or, paradoxically, maybe it was happy to see us. Because suddenly human was on the menu tonight, and it looked like it was going to enjoy that last minute addition.

  The creature’s eyes glowed yellow in the reflected light from Griffin’s stupid fucking camera. He stood there with his mouth hanging open. It was the sort of awestruck look that came from someone who was fulfilling a lifelong fantasy, and not the kind of terrified look I’d expect from someone whose life was in serious danger.

  The thing threw its head back to let out a long and mournful howl that echoed through the clearing and campus. Maybe it was my imagination, but I almost thought the distant noise of parties and people moving back and forth between dorms quieted for the space of that howl, though maybe that was my imagination.

  Then the thing turned back to us. Its lips curled back in another deadly snarl. That growl came rumbling through the clearing once more, and I knew we were in deep shit.

  6

  Cara

  I looked down at the hand holding me in place. I looked up to the growling creature staring at us like we’d make a delicious snack. I looked to Griffin who was still standing there like a dumbass with his shoulder camera shining that light in the werewolf’s eyes and causing them to glow a hateful yellow color.

  I saw the pure malevolence in the creature’s eyes as it stared at us. I turned to Jack. I put my hand on his where he was gripping my arm.

  “I’m only going to say this to you one time,” I said. “You need to let go of me now.”

  “You don’t want to move too fast,” Jack said. “These things are normally harmless, but if you run you might trigger a hunting instinct.”

  I looked at the werewolf. It took a step towards us. The way its muzzle was pulled back looked like a grin, even though I knew that wasn’t what was happening. Or hell, maybe it was what was happening. There was presumably a human mind buried somewhere in the cursed werewolf body, after all.

  “I don’t know what kind of dumbass can look at something like that and think it wants to do anything but kill us,” I said, still talking calmly in the hopes it might get him to let go. “But that thing doesn’t mean anything good for any of us, and you need to let go of me.”

  I was almost screaming by the end. So much for calm and collected. Panic was setting in. Panic was bad. Panic got people killed. If I was going to be stuck in a horror movie then I wanted to make sure I was the final girl, and not one of the dumbasses who got taken out at the beginning.

  “Oh my God, we’re going to make contact,” Griffin said.

  “What the fuck you…”

  A crunching sound drew my attention back to the terror in the clearing. The deer was forgotten. The thing’s claws flexed as it moved towards us. I started to a shiver and shake, and still Jack didn’t let go.

  “Let go,” I said, and I started repeating it over and over like it was a mantra that was somehow going to save me as that thing moved closer.

  Twigs and leaves and underbrush crunched under its clawed feet as it reached Griffin. The thing dwarfed him, and he was already pretty tall. This creature had to be at least eight feet tall.

  The werewolf cocked its head to the side. It looked down at Griffin with more curiosity than anything. Which was way more intelligent than I preferred my monstrous creatures to be. That showed there was a brain behind the monster. It was thinking.

  The werewolf clearly didn’t know what to make of this strange human standing in front of it pointing a camera at it.

  I was surprised to feel a strange camaraderie with the werewolf. We were both thinking the same thing. Why wasn’t this fucking idiot running?

  “Amazing,” Griffin whispered. “Simply amazing. You’re beautiful…”

  Under other circumstances I might’ve made a sarcastic comment about Griffin and the big scary monster getting a room. Only I wasn’t going to do anything that might draw the big scary monster’s attention to yours truly!

  The creature grunted. One of those claws flexed and then, faster than Griffin could have ever hoped to react, the thing embedded those claws in his stomach.

  The dude had a considerable gut, but that wasn’t any trouble for the werewolf. No, a sick squelching noise filled the clearing, followed by a grunt of surprise from Griffin.

  The werewolf jerked its clawed hand up, and presumably ripped through the Griffin’s lungs. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his face was a mask of terror that said he was finally realizing the terrible fuck up he’d made, but it was too fucking late. He already had a werewolf’s hand embedded in his guts.

  There was no coming back from that. Even if he’d been attacked by a werewolf in the middle of a hospital, which was a ridiculous notion that I’m sure had been turned into some schlocky direct to streaming horror movie with a guy walking around in a really bad Halloween costume at some point.

  The werewolf jerked its clawed hand one final time and it went all the way through Griffin. Blood dripped from its claws, and what looked like bits of his spine exploded out.

  And through it all Jack stood there gripping my arm. If anything his grip had gotten tighter. Almost painful. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps as he stared at the creature. Like he was finally startin
g to realize how much he’d fucked up by coming out here tonight and getting so up close and personal with a monster.

  The werewolf let out a growl that seemed almost happy as it bit into Griffin’s neck. With a twist his head came off, and the werewolf pulled it up and shook him back and forth looking for all the world like a dog playing with a chew toy.

  If we were talking about the world’s biggest and most fucked up and terrifying dog ever, that is.

  I needed to get the fuck out of here. Maybe Jack was having a blue screen of death that was very quickly going to lead to his actual death, but I wanted to live! My instincts were kicking in, and oddly watching horror movies was helping.

  I’d always figured if I was going to be forced to watch those movies then I might as well get something useful out of them. I’d made it through them by thinking about what I’d do if I ever found myself in the same situation.

  The end result was I’d come up with a lot of contingency plans. I’d gamed out so many horrifying scenarios in my head that I was an expert on this sort of thing.

  “Sorry about this,” I muttered.

  Jack looked at me. The werewolf was still busy chowing down on Griffin, but I figured I only had a brief window of opportunity before it got tired of its Griffin snack and decided to move on to one of us.

  So I pulled my foot back and planted it between Jack’s legs. He grunted, his grip finally loosening, and looked down. Both of his hands went between his legs and he stumbled back into a tree. Which had him hitting his head as he cursed, temporarily forgetting we were face-to-face with a terrifying monstrosity straight out of someone’s nightmares.

  I hadn’t forgotten, though. I turned and ran. I ignored Jack’s angry screams. I felt bad about kicking him in the nuts, sure, but not too bad. He was the asshole holding me in a life or death situation against my will, after all. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Especially when death was on the line.