Sheep's Clothing by Gary Lewis (dark books to read TXT) 📗

into his throat from openings he couldn't ascertain. With a snap of his neck, everything from the chest down went numb. His head emerged from the slop as his neck was tugged, popping inside like a rubber band stretched beyond its limit.

The werewolf, hanging Willy up by the face within its fearsome bite, slapped its claws into his torso, ripping his head free from his body which flew a few feet before splashing into the pond. It shook his crushed cranium around in its jaws, slinging around mud and flesh, before flinging it toward the large cedar tree. A ferocious howl shook the ears of everything that lived, cowering Pine Bluff in fear.

#Janice#

Janice just finished putting up dishes as she looked at the clock on the wall. "Five o'clock. She won't be home for a couple hours," she said to herself. The noise of a car caught her attention as she peeked out the window at the empty driveway and the sound got quieter, traveling further down the street.

After grabbing her camera, she opened the side door to sit on the steps. Janice aimed into the scene. The vacant strip of gravel stretched from her carport to the street. With a click and a flash, she snapped a photo. It was a dimly lit reminder that everyone had either disappeared or betrayed her. Nobody would be coming to fill the empty void that spread before her.

She lowered the camera to look at her phone. "Of course, nobody is active this early," she said, opening the group chat. Several unseen messages from Terry filled the early A.M. hours of the night before.

"Going to go talk to Brad's mom in the morning. Any takers?" His last message was several hours ago.

"I'll go," she typed before pacing around the carport, impatiently waiting for a reply.

Just as she turned the screen of her phone for another look it chimed with a notification. "Cool. On my way," from Terry.

###

As Terry cruised down the long stretch of highway that hugged the edge of the county, Janice watched the pale fog that hung over the fields drift from her view. "Do you always drive this slow?" she asked, watching an old, dark blue sedan pass by. "That's the third one that's passed us."

"Sorry," Terry said with a nervous laugh. "Safety first and all. You know?"

Janice forced a smile. "I wasn't complaining," she said.

"Music?" Terry asked, flinching his tense arm over to the radio.

The Christian rock did little to drown out the awkward sound of Terry's voice as he turned onto a well-maintained gravel drive that snaked its way through forested hills, passing between several dark log cabins.

Terry briefly looked in her direction. "David told Sarah that he blames the fire at the old rec for splitting up his parents."

"You mean Tony's dad and David's mom?" she asked. "Of course he blames someone." She looked away at the passing mailboxes as they climbed the wooded, smooth, gravel slope.

"Janice, if you'll just hear me out," Terry said, opening his hand just above the steering wheel.

Janice clenched her jaw as she listened with hot skin.

"Tony's dad was having an affair with Brad's mom after the fire at the old rec killed Brad's dad. Tony knew about it when it was going on."

Janice pressed her eyebrows and looked at him. "I still don't see the point to all of this. What's it got to do with the werewolf attacks?" Janice asked as he brushed her hair aside with a sweep of her fingers.

"The werewolf is someone who was in that room that day," Terry said. "One of you." He raised one of his hands to adjust his glasses as he continued. "For some reason, it killed Brad first." His engine grew louder as the car bumped its way up the steep dirt road, visibility constantly blocked by the next cluster of evergreen trees that shrouded log cabins along the curving incline.

Janice let out a long sigh. "It was probably random," she said before sinking her gaze slowly into her lap. "It's just a curse." She returned her eyes to the side of his face as he continued to drive up the steep, gravel road. "Everything that's happened between all of us." The empty void in the pit of her stomach seemed to beckon the heavy heart that hung just above it. "We're all going to die," she said softly. "In the end, everyone is alone."

She watched Terry turn his head to her. "You're never alone, Janice." His words reminded her of David's. Janice wondered if they were just as hollow.

Just ahead, a flash of white clothing grazed the corner of her sight. "Stop!" she screamed.

Terry slammed his brakes, veering left, dragging them through a cloud of pulverized brown dirt that spread around them as they skidded to a halt. They barely missed the old woman as she continued hobbling toward her mailbox as if nothing happened.

"Holy shit!" he said, to which Janice arched an eyebrow. Did he really just cuss?

She watched him jump out and run around the front of the car. "Ma'am, are you alright?" The woman seemed oblivious to the sound of his voice as Janice cautiously stepped out to join him.

She gently tapped the lady's shoulder, to which she turned with a smile that wrapped across her wrinkled face.

"Why, hello there, sweetie." Her wheezy voice traveled from Janice to Terry. "Oh my, I didn't see you there," she said, tilting her ancient, withered face up at Terry.

Janice tilted to the left, leaning closer to him. "It's Brad's granny," she whispered. "She used to pick him up from school."

"Miss," the elderly lady grumbled as she looked at Janice. "I'm old, not deaf."

Terry cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. We're friends of Brad and thought we'd come pay our respects," he said, covering his heart with his palm.

"No. Too clean to be Brad's friends," she mumbled as she looked into the empty mailbox before closing it and raising the small, red flag.

Janice lifted her eyebrows and glanced at Terry.

"Did you mean to put something in there?" he asked the old woman.

"Sonny, if