Written 8/13/10 - 8/14/10. Typed and uploaded 10/16/10.

Disclaimer: Silver Bullet & Cycle of the Werewolf belong to Stephen King, but I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow some of his amazing characters for a little story of mine. : )

I'm married to a super-kind reverend who's never done anything wrong in his life. So what's wrong with that? Nothing - except he's a werewolf.

Um, okay?

It was a Friday night when I found out my beloved was a creature of another world.

I sat snuggly on the couch in the living room, a knit throw draped over my legs, watching reruns of an old classic, I Love Lucy. The moon had rose high into the blackening sky, shunning all stars. The beams shone through the windows even though the curtains were pulled closed. A breeze rustled against the glass and a scraping sound echoed from the Parlor.

I straightened up and looked over the back of the low-setting wooden-base couch. I figured it was just the wind pushing a tree branch against the side of the house. I had pushed out of my mind the fact that no trees grew around the perimeter of the house. I turned back to the television, trying to forget about the noise. I settled back into the couch and pulled the blankets up to my stomach.

The same scraping sound came again, this time louder, closer.

I bolted upright.


There was no answer. I cleared my throat and looked back to the parlor. A light had been turned on in the room.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. I wasn't sure if it was because I was a bit scared or if I somehow knew subconsciously not to speak.

A shadow appeared on the wall. Not that of a man - a person - but of something else. It had a long snout and fangs that protruded from an open jaw. The arms that were raising up from the side had extending claws.

I gasped softly, my body frozen. I couldn't move. I could only stare at the shadow. Suddenly it started moving. The creature came closer and closer to the living room. I let out a whimper, unable to do anything else.

A low growl echoed into the room. I heard the padding of feet on the carpeted floor, the groaning of wooden planks underneath as a terrifying weight was hunkered onto it. The body began to peek out from the corner of the wall connecting the parlor into the living room where I was. The arm was covered in thick, dark hair - no, fur - which looked wiry and coarse. The claws were longer than I had previously thought. Shadows lied.

Before I could do anything, the head snapped around the corner and I was caught staring straight into the golden eyes of a fearsome animal. It snarled at me, baring its glistening fangs.

All sense flooded back to me in an instant and I jumped from the couch. Shrieking, I fled from the living room, down the hall to the kitchen. I could hear a snorting growl from the animal. It sounded as if he were angry. I had never seen anything like it before. It stood up like a man - but it looked almost nothing like one. The closest animal I could match it to was a wolf, and it definitely was NOT that.

the clattering in the room over came closer. Luckily, the lights in the kitchen had not been turned on - as it was late and no one had been in here all day. I can over to the sink and dropped to the ground, pressing my back to the cabinets and hugging my knees to my chest.

I held my breath and closed my eyes. If I was going to die, I didn't want to see it coming.

Heavy breathing was all around me; I could feel heat on my neck and smell what seemed to be decomposing flesh. Suppressing the gag reflex which was trying to kick in at a most inappropriate time, I squeezed my eyes tighter in fear.

Minutes passed and nothing happened. I let out a shuddering breath, still frightened. The heavy panting had softened and then all together stopped. The smell left, but something still lingered in the air.

Perhaps this was a dream. Yes, that was it. This was all just a dream. A nightmare. I had fallen asleep watching I Love Lucy and now I was dreaming. Satisfied as I was with that diagnosis, I still refused to open my eyes. I sat in silence for another estimated minute. Just as I was readying to open my eyes, I felt something on my shoulder.

My eyes snapped open, wide and rounder than a dinner plate and my body jolted involuntarily. I was staring into the face of not a beast, but of my husband. He stared at me, his own eyes wide. He, himself, looked scared. His face burned red and sweat trickled down from his temples.

He swallowed, trying to speak, but he couldn't. It seemed there was a case of that going around our house.

I had the instincts to hide still, though I wasn't sure why. Something inside me knew, but another something - a WIFE something - refused to listen to it. I reached out and touched his arm. He was real. I was in the kitchen still, not on the couch.

His eyes searched my eyes and he breathed against my face. It was MY husband - sans shirt.


I collapsed into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face into his neck. I only felt safe with him.

"What was that?" I asked. I was visibly shaken.

"Don't - Don't concern yourself with that."

"Then you saw it too!"

"Don't worry."

"But what was - "

"You're not harmed are you?"


He sighed, sounding relieved. "That's ... good."

I pulled away, "Will you please tell me what that was?" Obviously he wasn't too concerned about it, therefore knew what it was - right?

His eyes looked full of fear. Whether it was fear of what had inhabited our house or fear of what I would soon knew him to be, I couldn't tell then. Perhaps it was fear he'd sooner or later harm me. In any case, he found no reason to keep this secret from me any longer.

"Please," I began, feeling unsure I wanted the answer, but knew I needed to have it, "what was that?"

We both knew the response would change everything, but 'better now than never' right?

"It was ..."

"What? What was it?"

"... me."

And that was how I found out my husband was a werewolf.

Not too subtle, now was it?