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Enter your story of 300 words or less. |
Miranda had knocked on the door to the cabin until it seemed her knuckles would burst. Maybe he’s not here, she thought, frustrated, but he wasn’t at his other house either. Just as she was ready to leave, she heard steps lumbering to the door. “Just a minute,” a voice like Tom’s mumbled indistinctly. She heard a hand fumble with the lock. Finally, the door cracked open. Pushing the door open wider, Miranda stepped inside. It was so dark she couldn’t see; she could only detect a sense of musty, confined space with jumble to cramp it further. She felt like she’d slipped into a cave. “Please turn on the light.” She struggled not to cough. “And open the window, or the door. I’m having trouble breathing.” When Tom didn’t respond, Miranda swung the door back open. In the light that now broke in, she switched on the lantern beside the door. Now she saw Tom standing in what’d been the shadow of the door, blinking stupidly. She gasped. He looked like he hadn’t shaved for a week, whiskers sprouting aggressively over his cheeks, almost up to his red-rimmed eyes. Even the backs of his hands seemed unusually hairy. He resembled Bigfoot. Next she observed his red bleary eyes and his dirty wrinkled clothes, as if he hadn’t slept, bathed or changed for as long as he hadn’t shaved. “Tom! You look… different.” “Umm…” “Are you sick, or have you been drinking again lately?” “I just haven’t slept well lately.” “Perhaps you’re sick and that’s why.” “No, um… I didn’t really want to tell or hurt anyone. I’m a werewolf and it’s the full moon tonight. But you’re here now. It’s never wise to come too close to a werewolf.” Eyes blazing, he reached and grabbed her shirt. Miranda screamed. [300 words] |