George Washington Werewolf (9 page)

“Past the pond.”

“Past the
pond?
That’ll take at least an hour there and back. And it’s almost dark.”

“I’m sorry, Papa!” Caspar said again, and then the tears came.

“Hmm,” his father sighed. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault,” he patted the boy’s head. “Well, I better get going.”

And he walked to the mantle and grabbed the musket from the wall. And Friedrich thought of the moon. Tonight it would be full. He couldn’t let this man, Lil’s
father
, go out there.

“Let
me
go,” he said.

“What?”

“
Freddy!
” said Lil.

“I insist,” Friedrich said. “Let me go in your place and I will find your son.”

“But, we can go
together
…” the old man said.

“No!” And there was a pause as the two men looked at one another. “Please,” Friedrich said in a softer tone, “you have been so kind. Please allow me to repay your kindness.”

The old man considered it for a moment and then nodded his head.

“Then I accept,” he said, “as I welcome in spirit my new son.”

“Thank you. And I my new father... But, may I borrow your
gun?
” he motioned to the musket.

“Yes! Of course! But how will you… how will you find the
pond?
The woods are so dark.”

“You forget, I lived here as a boy,” Friedrich smiled. “I used to play in those woods all the time.”

The old man nodded in assent, and minutes later Friedrich walked back into the forest, this place he had thought about and dreaded for the past twelve years. Daylight was fading fast and beneath the dense trees it was almost night. After awhile he wondered if he could even remember how to get there, to the pond. (It had been so long.) Suddenly he heard branches snapping behind him. Cocking the gun he pointed it into darkness when he heard a voice.

“Freddy? Freddy?”

“
Lil?
” He couldn’t have been more surprised. “What are you
doing
here?” he asked. “
Why?
Why did you
come?
”

“To show you the way,” she laughed. “It’s very dark, as my father said.”

“No! No! You… You have to go back
immediately
! You… I
insist!
” And he looked around at the trees, so menacing, so unwelcoming.

“But then
you’ll
be lost as well as my brother,” she said, “and I’ll go out of my mind waiting, and I’ll just end up coming here
anyway
to search for you.”

Friedrich saw the look on her face, that she was not to be dissuaded, and he let out a long deep breath.

“All right,” he said, “but I want you to stay close to me at all times, do you
hear?
”

“Yes sir, Baron Von Steuben!”

The night came down quickly and soon the only light was from the moon ripping through the trees, its light slashing the branches. Friedrich remembered the feeling of when he was eight: of looking out the window; of the horrible sounds; of his heart about to explode; of the cold sweat covering his skin; of being so scared that he had tried to convince himself over the past twelve years that it had never happened; that it was a nightmare he had once as a child, before his father left him without a word.

“The pond is just up ahead,” Lil whispered.

And as they came to a clearing they saw the water illuminated, the reflection of the moon on its surface. And then at the edge of the pond what looked like a large animal drinking from the water’s edge.

“What’s
that?
” Lil asked, but Friedrich knew all too well.

“
Ssssh!
” he said. “We have to go
back!
”

“What? But what about Karl?”

And right then the animal turned its head and stared at them.

“Is that a
wolf?
” she asked.

But it was too late. Before they could move the werewolf had charged. Friedrich got off a shot but it had no effect, and the creature struck the side of Lil’s body ripping apart her chest. And then it came at
him
and he hit it with the butt end of the rifle. A hideous scream. Then the beast appeared in a pool of moonlight, its bullet wound dripping blood but murder still in its eyes. And as it prepared to attack, Friedrich withdrew his sword. The beast lunged for his throat and he wheeled and swung the saber as the creature rushed past. Another cry as the blade tore through its shoulder. And as it reared again and leapt through the air, Friedrich swung his sword in a single arc that severed the beast’s head and left it before him on the ground. The monster was dead, but to make sure he kicked its head into the pond and watched as it sank. He then went over to Lil, to her body. He had seen this before. Her eyes still opened, frozen in this terrified expression of death.

“Lil…” he said softly. “
Lil
…”

He had known her for less than a week but he loved her more than he had loved anyone. And there she was, dead on the ground, on the fresh summer grass next to some evening primrose (whose flowers bloom in the moonlight). And then he noticed the blood dripping from his hand, the gash on his arm. He had been bitten.

An hour later, Lily’s father wept over her dead body, as Friedrich had carried it back for burial. And in the morning they went into the woods. They found the decapitated body of the werewolf, although now it was nothing more than a man.

“Where is the
head?
” the old man asked.

“There…” Friedrich said, “at the bottom of the pond.”

“That’s a shame,” he said. “I would like to have known who killed my daughter.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

The old man looked past him at some dry brush, and a short time later he made a fire in which to burn the headless man’s body. And while they looked for more wood so that the fire would burn hot, Friedrich discovered what was left of Karl amidst some fallen limbs. Karl was only eight, the same age
he
had been. They waited before the fire for a long time, until only ashes were left, and then they brought Karl’s body back home. And after the two children were buried their father said a prayer.

“May the Lord take you both and give you the peace that was stolen from you in
this
life…” And then he turned to Friedrich. “You must
go
now,” he said, “and never return. The moon will be full again tonight and you’ll become like that creature… that
thing
that murdered my daughter, that murdered my son.”

“What are you
talking
about?” Friedrich asked.

“You’ve been
bitten
,” said the old man. “You’ll
change
.” And there was a pause as he looked at the three graves side by side, the third belonging to his wife. “I should kill you now,” he said, “before it happens. The forest had been peaceful all the years we lived here. But somehow you… you’ve brought this
curse
upon us!” He glanced at the musket atop the woodpile. “But because you loved my daughter and because she loved you… I can’t kill you. No… But you must
go!
You must be far away from here, far from
anyone
by nightfall before the moon rises. Do you understand?”

“No, I...”

“Well you
must!
” he insisted. “You
must!
So go now,
please
, and never come back…”

All this passed through Friedrich Von Steuben’s head as he felt the change coming on, as it had every month for the past twenty-eight years. And he looked into George Washington’s eyes and hoped with all his soul (if he still had one) to spare him from such a fate.

“Please, General… you must
go
,” he said in a voice so weak now as to barely be heard.

And Washington looked on, still not comprehending. Von Steuben gripped the bars of the cage and started to shake as if in the grip of some uncontrollable spasm.

“Please… go…” Von Steuben pleaded. “
PLEASE
…”

And then there was the terrible sound of bones cracking, of muscles tearing, of the Baron moaning in agony as fur grew from his skin, claws from his fingers, fangs from his teeth; as his entire body convulsed and distorted and his face became that of a wolf. George Washington watched in horror as the transformation became complete, and what stood before him now was not a man and not a beast, but an Abomination. Something evil and wretched. Something to be pitied and to be put out of its misery. And Washington drew his pistol and took aim, but stopped for a moment as he looked into the monster’s eyes. They were red and cold and devoid of all humanity, and only reflected the soul at its most base and depraved. Washington extended his arm and fired. The bullet hit the beast square in the forehead, but instead of falling back it lunged forward and grabbed the General’s arm through the iron bars, pulling him close. George Washington felt its claws rip through his clothing, rake across his skin, its terrible jaws snapping the air, ripping out pieces of flesh,
his
flesh. And it was all he could do to wrest himself free as he fell against the wall of the hut and collapsed to the floor.

It was morning when George Washington awoke, finding himself on the cold wooden floor covered in his own blood. Being a soldier, the first thing he did was to ascertain the extent of his wounds. There were several deep gashes in his chest and what looked like bite marks on his arm. But they all seemed to be healing. The bleeding had stopped. And then he looked over at the cage and saw Friedrich Von Steuben standing naked against the bars.

“I’m deeply sorry, General,” the Baron said.

“What happened?” Washington tried to get to his feet but suddenly grew dizzy.

“Don’t try to stand up, sir.”

“But, I don’t understand… My head, I…”

“Headache?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the first sign.”

“The first sign of
what?
”

“Of the change…”

“The
change?
What are you talking about? What happened here? What… What
happened
to me?” he motioned to his wounds.

“Don’t you remember?”

“No.”

“You were
attacked
, General…”

“
Attacked?
By whom?”

“By what…”

“By
what?
”

“You were attacked by a werewolf.”

“A
were
…”

And then he began to remember. George Washington sat back against the wall and closed his eyes, and he could see it all in his memory as if it had just taken place. When he opened his eyes again he stared at Von Steuben for a long time without speaking, as it continued to sink in.

“You… so you are…”

“Yes, General… I’m so sorry, I… I tried to
warn
you…”

“But, how… How can it
be?
How can…”

“I don’t know. Who
knows
what terrible things God allows to exist…” said Von Steuben. “I only know that some things do.”

At that moment Otto appeared, frantic, his flintlock drawn and aimed at General Washington’s head. The dwarf cocked the hammer and was about to fire when the Baron intervened.

“No, Otto!
No!
”

“But sir…”

“I said
no
. I’m
fine
, Otto. Now leave us, please. The General and I have some things to discuss…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Otto. Thank you.”

Otto nodded and turned to leave.

“But first…” Von Steuben motioned to the lock on the cage. “The key, Otto… if you would be so kind…”

And the dwarf brought the key from his pocket and unlocked the cage.

“Thank you, Otto. We will have much to talk about later, you and I. But for now I’m sure General Washington has some burning questions for me.”

“I understand, sir,” and Otto left the hut and closed the door.

“Would you mind terribly if I put on some clothes?” Von Steuben asked.

“No, of course not,” Washington replied. “I still… I still can’t…”

“
Believe
it?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“I mean, we hear stories of demons, of vampires and werewolves but…”

“They’re stories and nothing more…”

“Yes,” Washington nodded.

“I was eight years old,” Von Steuben began. “My father went outside to get wood for the fire. It was the night of a full moon and I watched from the window as… as he was butchered without mercy. And for twelve years I thought… I
believed
that I had
imagined
it, you know? That it was some young boy’s nightmare, for how could it be otherwise?”