Cricket201901

(Lars) #1

Looking out into the gloomy night, I could
make out part of the half-moon through the
trees. A light quivered from a street lamp far
down the road.
At one point while I stood there, I consid-
ered telling Mom everything. Only the words
that formed in my head were preposterous.
“Hey, Mom, Magnus is a werewolf. But don’t
worry, he doesn’t eat humans. He prefers
pizza and ice cream. Oh, by the way, there’s
this werecat.”
I laughed out loud at the lunacy of it
when the startled cry of a killdeer emerging
from a tree silenced me. Something moved
in the shadows across the street. It was the


massive form of a canine, pacing the tree line
with a lowered head.
I wasn’t afraid. I knew it was Magnus.
But what was he doing out there?
Suddenly, he stopped short, stiffened, and
perked his head up. He wasn’t looking at me,
but through the lonely woods behind him.
A second later, he bounded through the trees
and vanished from sight.
I waited anxiously for his return. Fifteen,
twenty minutes passed with no sign of
Magnus. That foreboding feeling redoubled
when I heard, somewhere deep in the night,
a distraught howl followed by a continued,
agonizing silence.
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