The Hunt

It had been around a month since his brother’s death, and the last full moon, and the next one was predicted for that night. Wanting to give himself enough time to prepare his attack on the werewolf, Fredrick left his house when the sun began to sink behind the horizon. The walk through the forest was hard for him, and even when the sun was up, every crunch of a branch beneath the feet of animals, and even himself, made him cringe. He managed to find the clearing where the deer had been grazing the month before, and hoped it was a good spot to set himself up for the beast. The hardest part of the hunt up to that point was the wait. It seemed to Fredrick like for an eternity while waiting for the moon to shine in the sky.

The night was quiet, just as it had been the last time he was there, but this time, with the knowledge of what would eventually come, the quiet was extremely unnerving. Fredrick waited as long as he could, and the full moon was bright in the sky. Its beauty and extravagance was nothing to him, since he knew what it could do, and what dark powers it possessed. He heard a branch crack from far off in the trees, and quickly drew the pistol. To his relief it was only a fox scurrying along the leaves. Fredrick took out the dried wolfsbane from the bag Deblive had given him, and dropped them in a clump on the ground. Hoping the scent would be strong enough to attract the werewolf, he also took out the box of matches and struck one. “What am I getting myself into?”He asked himself. He stared at the match burn away, but couldn’t bring himself to throw it in the pile, and it burned out in his hand. Fredrick was about to strike another one when he heard it. A loud echoing howl rang through the trees! He could tell it was close, but not close enough. Bringing up the courage he had, Fredrick struck another match and quickly dropped it on the pile of petals. Suddenly fearing for his life more than ever before, he scrambled to his feet and hid behind a large tree, facing away from the direction of the howl. The night became quiet once more, and the air was cold. The light of the moon shone down through the trees even more as clouds moved on. He drew the pistol from his pocket, and slowly sank down to the ground, feeling as ready as he ever would be for what was to come.

Ten long minutes passed without a sign of the beast, and Fredrick was beginning to doubt Mr. Deblive’s faith in the wolfsbane smoke. He slowly began to rise from the ground when he heard the infamoussnapof a branch. The snap was too loud to be made by a fox this time, and the sweat that had been slowly dripping down his face and mustache felt cold as ever. Despite his fear, Fredrick quickly swung around the tree to face the clearing. But nothing was there. He then noticed the fire he had started began to spread to the surrounding leaves and grass, and was getting larger. About to put his back against the tree once more, he saw it! On the other side of the burning wolfsbane was the werewolf! It was creeping towards the scent slowly, and on all fours. It was too enthralled by the fire and scent that could not smell Fredrick, or see him come slowly away from the tree, pistol drawn.

Fredrick felt the adrenaline and excitement of the moment running through him, and he took and at the monster’s head as he had a month earlier. He squinted his eyes due to the smoke of the fire, and pulled the trigger. A loud snap came from the gun as the hammer smacked the percussion cap, but nothing more. “I knew silver wouldn’t shoot out of this gun!”

The werewolf’s ears pricked up at the sound of the gun, and rose from the ground on its hind legs. Its large eyes looked right at Fredrick, and it let out a loud growl, and snapped its massive, powerful jaws. Fredrick felt the energy rush out of him, and it was replaced by fear. Quickly, as the beast jumped at him, overtop of the fire, he grabbed the knife from his boot and lashed out. He missed, and it slammed him to the ground just as it had done to Henry, and went to bite his throat. Fredrick’s hand shot up in the way, and he cried out in pain as its fangs sank into it. It let go of his hand, and reared up for throat once more. Sure that it was the end of a good life, Fredrick closed his eyes. He could not see what was happening at first, but he felt no pain, and heard the beast let out an enormous, agonizing yelp, and bounded off leaving him. Able to catch a quick glance of the werewolf as it ran off into the forest, Fredrick noticed its tail had been badly singed by the flames, which saved his life.

Fredrick pulled himself up, and realized that the moonlight had faded. There was a crackle of thunder, and rain began to poor down through the trees, extinguishing the fire he had made. The pain in his hand caught up with him, and he cried out again and wrapped it in his coat. Somehow through the dense rain he managed to find the road back to town, and left the forest feeling angry and discouraged. He spent a whole month waiting for the moon to be full, in order to kill the beast that took his brother’s life, and now he had to wait again. Fredrick checked himself into the hospital, his hand was stitched up, and he stayed the night in one of the beds. He could not help but think about failing to kill the werewolf, and sank off to sleep in despair.

The End

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