The Wisconsin Werewolf

by Alex Gedgaudas

  I couldn’t say anything on who the real culprit was. I would be thrown into a padded cell of a loony bin. If I dared to even admit that a decapitated head and Richie’s blood was found in bed with me this morning, I’d be the prime suspect.

  Luckily, there was no faking emotion on my part. I was certain my face was pale and fearful, my eyes brimming with unshed tears as my bottom lip quivered mercilessly. I looked no different than the other grieving staff members of The Club.

  By the time one of the police officers finally got around to me, a large crowd of people had formed behind the recently placed yellow police tape. Customers had started to arrive at the club completely unaware of the developments of this morning and the night before.

  My questioning was very brief.

  Had I seen anything suspicious the day before?

  Did I know anyone who would want to hurt Richie and the others?

  Where was I the night before?

  The young officer finished with thanking me for my cooperation before giving me a card for his police department. He simply told me to call if I could think of any useful information. It seemed as though the police were really leaning toward the killer bear theory. Or, if there was a homicidal psycho slashing people, it was only a male committing the crime. All the female employees of The Club did not receive the same amount of questioning that the male employees did. The police were finding it very suspicious that there were no security cameras anywhere on the property before one of my fellow bartenders simply explained it was because “Uncle Richie” didn’t believe in cameras.

  While two officers questioned this, I believed it wholeheartedly. It made sense. Richie couldn’t get away with his inappropriate behavior with his female employees or his emotional abuse toward them if he had cameras watching his every move.

  After an hour of standing dumbly with my coworkers and going through questioning, we were encouraged to go home because as of now The Club was closed, most likely indefinitely.

  Just like that, I was again jobless. Arriving home an hour later, I ignored Simon as he exuberantly told me something about yet another dead animal in the backyard. After everything I had witnessed that day, another dead carcass of a woodland creature seemed to be the very least of our worries.

  I was about to trudge upstairs and fall into my bed before I unfortunately remembered what had happened just that morning. I doubted I would ever find comfort sleeping in my room again, not to mention I no longer had a bed. As I awkwardly stood by the stairs wondering what my next move should be, Miranda decided for me.

  “Everly, come to my room for a minute.” She sounded worried. I obediently went through the motions of climbing the stairs for her bedroom, barely able to register anything. I had too many thoughts as well as the overwhelming desire to just sleep the day away. I could barely remember walking to the end of the long hallway before going left.

  “I’m really worried about you,” my sister said the moment I entered her room. Miranda shut the door behind her, clearly not wanting us to be overheard by our brother.

  “Why?” My words in no way sounded like a question. They sounded robotic and dead. For the first time ever, I got my elder sister to really look at me. Miranda was always so busy even when we were younger. If she wasn’t busy with something school related for the honor roll, she was busy being captain of her cheerleading squad or dating air-headed jocks. She was always around but never taking too much interest in mine and Simon’s lives unless it was to reprimand us for our stupid jokes or silly pranks. She was always playing the role of big sister while we would forever only be children to her. But here and now, I could see my sister was finally giving me all of her undivided attention. Only I could see she really didn’t like what she saw.

  “You don’t leave the house unless you’re going to work. You’re clearly not getting any sleep, every little thing sets you off, and you’ve lost far too much weight in a short amount of time.” Miranda spoke quietly but urgently. I could tell she wanted to impact me with her words. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.”

  Even my robotic voice sounded like a liar. “Is it drugs?” pushed Miranda, moving forward to grasp my shoulders. Her bright eyes were full of worry, her vibrant red hair in a messy bun. She looked tired, too.

  I released an unintended snort. Being on drugs would probably be safer than the mess I was currently in right now, sad as that was.

  “No.”

  “You’re going to tell me what your problem is right now, or I’m going to call Mom and Dad.”

  My eyes widened slightly. That was a threat I had never before heard. Our parents weren’t due back until early December, a little more than two weeks from now. Never before in our childhood had any of us ever threatened to tell our parents on each other. It was as if it was a silent code between Miranda, Simon, and me. We would never betray one another by ratting a sibling out to our folks. Our parents held a very liberal parenting method. They didn’t yell at their kids; what they did was much worse. We received stern and loving lectures similar to ones that cheesy parents on eighties sitcoms would provide. Worse for us, these cheesy lectures very often resulted in a whole two or three hours of our parents monologuing. There were only a handful of times the three of us Davis children could recall getting the “Mr. and Mrs. Davis tag-team treatment.” Mine had been returning home after failing to find a useful career with nothing but my creative writing degree to back me up.

  My parents spent a very long three hours explaining that I couldn’t give up so easily and that I should try a little harder in succeeding. It was the longest few hours of my life that afterwards ended in a cheesy hug.

  Simon’s monologue had been worse. Back when we were still in California when he was only eleven, he had placed a lit firecracker inside of our mailbox to see what would happen. The firecracker blew up and caused the mailbox to fly across the yard, hitting our neighbor’s windshield in the process. Our parents had called Simon into the den, where he did not re-emerge for a whole two hours. When he did finally come out, it was easy to see our parents took some spirit out of him. To this day, I can’t recall having seen my brother light another firecracker.

  Somehow, Miranda always got out of a lecture. Even throughout her horrid dating history, she craftily avoided our mother and father’s tough-love monologuing sessions. Part of me always felt it was because she was far too similar to our parents’ nature so she was immune to “the talks.”

  “Don’t threaten me,” I chastised. “I still haven’t told anyone about the time you were fooling around with that Kyle guy while he was dating Mom’s friend.”

  My sister grit her teeth at my bringing up her own proverbial silver bullet. Granted, this was a very long time ago and our mother’s middle-aged friend had a penchant for dating extremely younger men. Kyle had only been two years older than Miranda and twenty younger than our mother’s friend Denise. Yet this was information the pristine Miranda would never wish for our parents to find out no matter how many years passed. My sister glowered at me. “You need to start telling me what’s going on. Now.”

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “Look at yourself!” Miranda pleaded, releasing my shoulders. “You look like you haven’t gotten a good night of sleep in months. Your cheeks are hollow, your eyes are bigger, and your clothes are so baggy now! There’s something different about you—”

  “So your problem with me is that I’ve lost weight?” I laughed cruelly. “Seriously? The fat sister finally slims down and there’s a problem with that?”

  Miranda looked wounded. “You were never fat—”

  “Oh, don’t you dare say big boned or ‘athletic,’” I snarled. “You don’t need to sugarcoat words. Back then I’d have eaten those, too.”

  Miranda rubbed her eyes wearily. “I’m not trying to offend you. I’m just saying that there’s something really wrong with you lately.”

  “Because I’m not fat anymore?” I c
hallenged. “Because for once in my life, I’m the same size as you?”

  Even though I’ve been haunted by thoughts and dreams of blood and gore, it hadn’t escaped my attention that my sister and I were now the same size body-wise. Miranda had always been a size 2 up until she hit college. She complained of her “freshmen fifteen,” but in actuality, all she did was go up to a size 4-6 dress size. There really didn’t seem to be a difference when I looked at her. But to my sister, those two sizes were the near end of the world. For me, a girl who always wavered in and out of size 14-18, it always felt insulting hearing her complain of her much smaller frame. Nowadays she still hovered between sizes 4-6. The same could be said for me.

  “You should not have lost such an extreme amount of weight in such a short amount of time,” tried Miranda weakly. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” I nodded seriously. “Something must be really wrong because God forbid you and your former fatty sister are the same size. Poor you.”

  I stomped toward the door, throwing it open. “It’s called stress. Okay? Stress. It’s because not only am I jobless right now, I like a guy I really shouldn’t and he likes me even though he can’t. I can’t sleep, I don’t feel like eating, and my employer and a few supervisors and managers at my new job I secretly took all got mauled by what the police think is a bear attack or horribly ripped apart by an ax murderer! Are you happy?” I shouted, leaving a very stunned and confused-looking Miranda alone in her room.

  CHAPTER 22

  “You okay?”

  It was two hours after my fight with Miranda. She tried coming into my room to apologize, but I kept my door locked and insisted I didn’t want to talk to her. Mainly because she would have questions for why only my metal bed frame was left of my bed. Pizza was for dinner. I had the sneaking suspicion that my sister was trying hard to make amends. She ordered an extra cheesy pepperoni pan pizza with a garlic-butter crust. My favorite.

  But I had no appetite for food. All I could do was sit on my floor near my bedroom door and simply at my metal bed frame missing a mattress and all bedding. It felt impossible that all the horror of hearing that my coworkers were dead happened in the course of a day.

  “Go away,” I told Simon, not bothering to get up from the floor. I eyed the suitcase beside me. It took under an hour to pack my belongings. I had the urge to use up my savings to buy a plane ticket out of town as soon as possible, but that wasn’t feasible. I had my brother and sister to think about. They couldn’t and wouldn’t leave town with me. They would want to stay in the Wisconsin Dells indefinitely. Their lives were here. The same as my parents when they finally returned from Europe. They wouldn’t come with me, either. No one I loved would be safe if I left.

  A low, clicking sound was heard before my door swung open. A triumphant Simon held up a very thin screwdriver and a paper clip as he entered the room. “It’s like you forget that you’re the one who taught me how to pick locks.”

  He frowned as he watched me on the floor. Simon looked at my empty bed frame with confusion. His eyes flew to my suitcase. “Leaving town?”

  “He won’t stop killing until I join him,” I whispered. I could only stare at the bed frame and nothing else. It was terrifying to think that the monster crept through my second story window and tucked me in bed with a decapitated head.

  “It’s all over the news,” said Simon as he moved in front of me to shield my view of the bed. “People were killed at that supper club. That animal sanctuary has two giant bears missing.”

  “It’s a cover up to protect the alpha,” I muttered.

  “I figured it had something to do with the werewolves.” He nodded. “That’s a lot of work to go through to protect him. I just don’t get it, the whole pack mentality. Why are they trying so hard to defend this guy?”

  I rubbed my forehead as I hesitantly explained the day’s events. I told him all about how I woke up this morning to discover Richie had been killed. I told him how I called Matt for help. I told Simon about the pack coming over, and I told them about how they cleaned up everything and burned the evidence. I then told him about going to work and finding out more than one person had been brutally murdered and dismembered the night before.

  By the time I was finished, Simon was pale, and he looked as terrified as I felt. “Now I want to leave town,” I said, slowly rolling myself into a ball on the floor.

  “You don’t need to leave town…” Simon tried. But even he looked unsure of his own statement.

  “More people will die.” I nodded. Nico had been right with his declaration. There was no ending to this anytime soon. No matter where I went, what I tried doing, people were most likely going to die all because of me. “It’s not going to stop,” I told Simon in a breath of a whisper. “The alpha is going to keep killing because it thinks we’re…we’re…m-mated.” Just saying the words felt so wrong. My brother didn’t say anything for the longest time. We sat in the longest silence I had ever experienced between us until he came to sit beside me on the floor. I hadn’t realized I was crying until he placed his arm around my shoulders to comfort me.

  “I have a plan,” he finally admitted an hour later. We hadn’t moved from our spot on my bedroom floor. We both silently watched my bed, no doubt replaying the same thoughts of the murderous werewolf.

  “Killing it would be a great plan i-if we knew who it w-was,” I mumbled, figuring he was yet again repeating himself.

  “Then we should finally discover who it is.”

  I smacked Simon’s shoulder gently, but he only smirked. “I mean it. We outplay them at manipulating,” he whispered, heading over to my desk to grab a piece of paper and a pen.

  I had no idea what he was referring to up until he finished his scribbling to show me what he was writing. When he was done, he showed me the paper, clearly not wanting any possible werewolves outside overhearing us.

  We make the alpha think you’re ready to be with him.

  In theory, it made sense the more Simon explained his and Erik’s latest plan. Making the alpha believe I wanted to be with him seemed logical even. If he thought I was consenting to joining his pack, he would then reveal himself. But it wouldn’t be until the next morning that we would start putting together our plan of action. I downed two cups of black coffee, but I still wasn’t feeling ready and awake for the day’s events.

  “You’re actually going to be safer than we are,” Simon said in a voice that was probably meant to reassure me.

  I didn’t like the plan he and Erik concocted the second they explained it to me during breakfast. I only slowly munched on my slightly undercooked bacon while the boys wolfed down their full breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and blueberry bagels. Miranda seemed to truly want to get me to eat something lately. She kept going out of her way to make or order my favorite foods. To appease her, I accepted the bacon, though I wasn’t that hungry. Luckily for me, I got to miss out on Miranda’s scrutinizing gaze at the breakfast table because she needed to get to work early.

  “What’s not safe about this?” I said with a serious nod. “It’s such a great idea.” My sarcasm was hidden as I took a few small bites of bacon.

  “It’s not like we have a lot of options,” said Simon apologetically.

  “But if you don’t do it, what then?” pointed out Erik adamantly. “It doesn’t matter what you do or where you go, he’ll always find you!” His fingers roughly clenched the counter of the breakfast bar as he stared at me. His narrowed eyes watched me as if silently daring me to contradict him.

  His posture and attitude made it seem as though he really wanted to hammer this into our brains for good. Even Simon seemed surprised by his friend’s passion regarding this statement. He watched him with a raised brow.

  “You seem certain about that,” I noted quietly.

  “Well, it’s the truth.”

  Erik and I silently watched each other for a few moments. He watched me with a glare, and I was certain I was watching him w
ith one as well. For a suspicious moment, I wondered if he was the monster from that one night on the side of the road. But there wasn’t another moment to think about things; Simon started to intervene. “Guys, we can’t turn on each other, okay? We’re stressed and not sleeping.” Mine and Erik’s glares only wavered slightly. “Everly, are you going to be okay with going through with this?” Simon asked.

  “Oh well, why wouldn’t I be? There’s so much brilliance attached to this.”

  My brother ignored my sarcastic jab to watch me with worried eyes. “I mean it. I don’t want him to turn you into a werewolf.” There was nothing but earnest worry on my brother’s face.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Erik roll his own eyes. The moment came and went that swiftly, but it still caused suspicion to flood through me.

  CHAPTER 23

  The plan was simple enough. Giving myself over to the pack meant they would take me to their leader. Discovering who he was would then finally allow us to test out the hypothesis that killing the alpha would stop the killings. Or there was the chance that all we would accomplish is severely pissing off the boy band and inspiring them to kill us all.

  Either way, according to Simon, this was our Hail Mary. Our very last resort. We were running out of options. When I pulled into the parking lot of the conference center later that afternoon, I wanted to feel relief that this nightmare would all be over soon enough. But all I felt was extreme dread.

  There were too many variables. Too many things that could go disastrously, horribly wrong. Numerous questions plagued my mind, starting with wondering how we would accomplish killing a werewolf. My ending thoughts led me back to Matt, feeling confusion regarding him. Part of me felt I hated him for dating Miranda to give her to his alpha. Another part of me inwardly knew he didn’t have a choice but to follow what his alpha said. But thinking about Matt altogether was pointless. After this was all over, the wise thing would be to walk away from him for good. No contact, I should never see him again. At the same time, the part of me that knew he didn’t have a choice in any of this dreaded the very idea of doing just that. I wouldn’t be able to not know him.