If you’ve come this far, thank you for your patience, both with my timing and with the subject matter. Here is the conclusion. Hope you like it.
Saturday, March 25th.
It was the longest day of her life. Both Bobby and Ray had come over and had
spent the better part of the day helping Jerry abuse her in new and more
amusing ways. By afternoon both her eyes were black and her jaw was swollen on
the left side. Her right wrist was still swollen and she had bruises covering
most of her body. As the day, and her torment, droned on, Becky endured
silently, only maintaining her sanity by repeatedly telling herself that it was
After supper Jerry told her to
get back in her closet, and he’d come lock her in. Without a word, Becky
obeyed. Normally she’d be the after-dinner entertainment, but if they were
going out early, so much the better. It would give her a chance to rest up for her
escape tonight. Jerry let her out about 7:30 to go to the bathroom and gave her
a sandwich and glass of water before putting her back in the closet and making
a show of locking the door.
She had expected another
beating, but it never came. Not that she minded being left alone, of course.
She didn’t dwell on it much. She was just thankful for small favors.
She heard them slam the front
door and drive off in Jerry’s pickup. After a few minutes, when the house was
quiet, she retrieved the key and unlocked the closet door. She peered
cautiously into the deserted hallway, half expecting a trap. Other than
herself, the house was empty.
Minutes later Becky was in the
bedroom, dressing herself in one of Jerry’s old chambray work shirts as quickly
as her sore, bruised body would allow. She tried on an old pair of his tennis
shoes, but they were comically too big for her feet, so she settled for two
pairs of his socks.
Another few minutes later she slipped
out of the house for the last time, looking back once more at the closet door
which had held her prisoner. Then she turned and headed for Zeke’s. She never
saw that closet door again. Nor did she notice Jerry’s pickup parked down the
street in Ray’s driveway.
Zeke’s, The Trucker’s Haven.
Just off I-69 at the exit to Bartlett. The main building housed the restaurant,
gift shop, rest rooms and showers for truckers and travelers of all types. It
boasted ten diesel fueling stations on the south lot and twelve gasoline
fueling stations in front, with enough parking to accommodate thirty trucks and
twenty cars. Open 24 by 7, there was always someone at Zeke’s.
And now there was someone
behind Zeke’s, walking toward an overgrown footpath which lead into a section
of woods bordering on Yellowwood State Forest, wearing a man’s shirt several
sizes too big for her and placing her stockinged feet gingerly on the gravel that
defined the end of the service road.
And now there was someone else
behind Zeke’s, staying well behind the first figure, carrying what looked like
a miniature baseball bat; a tool the truckers referred to as a ‘tire thumper.’
This second someone was joined by two companions, each carrying their own
make-shift weapons—a tire iron and a large kitchen knife.
They waited beside the
dumpster and watched until the first figure had disappeared into the woods.
Then, with a grim nod at his companions, the second someone led the way onto
the path after her.
Once in the woods, Becky had to
slow her pace. Out of the range of streetlamps from Zeke’s, her journey was
illuminated only by the gibbous moon peeking through the trees. The further she
went into the woods, the more difficult it was to see. By the time she reached
the campsite, her eyes had adjusted to the dark a bit and she sat down on a
large stone in front of the firepit, wondering if it would be wise to hide in
the nearby undergrowth until Werewolf arrived.
Of course he’ll be in human form tonight. The moon’s not full enough to transform. Or, maybe he’s really a vampire. That’s what he told me, after all.
She grinned weakly at her own
humor, trying to convince herself that the idea was nothing more than a jest. She
was alone in the woods at night, with nothing but the sound of peepers and tree
frogs to keep her company. When their cacophony abruptly subsided, the grin
faded from her face.
Someone was approaching.
Someone with a powerful flashlight, which should have been comforting, except
that it was pointed directly at her face. She turned her eyes away too late.
She was temporarily blinded.
Then her heart sank as a
familiar voice said, “Well, son of a bitch! You were right, Ray. I guess I
owe you a six pack after all.” Before she could react, the tire thumper
connected with the side of her head and she slumped to the ground.
“It’s about time you
showed up! You are her knight in shining armor, right? Where the Hell
have you been, son?”
Becky was dreaming. In the
dream Jerry and another man were facing off for a gunfight. They were about to
shoot it out and she was the prize. In her dream, she was lying by a campfire
on a wet, red blanket. Then she saw the man’s face. It was a wolf who had come
to save her.
Realization dawned and she
opened her eyes. This was no dream, although she was beside a small fire. She
lay on a red blanket, or, more accurately, in a red pool. She ached all over as
if someone had beaten her with a…
Oh, of course. Someone had.
Her vision was doubled and
everything seemed hazy and dreamlike. Her attention was drawn to that cute guy
from the wedding picture standing close to the fire, surrounded by Jerry, Ray
and Bobby. He had walked into a trap! She had to warn him! Fighting the pain and dizziness, she tried to
“Werewolf, don’t…” was all she
could whimper before Bobby shut her up with a blow from his tire iron. Pain
flared in her arm where the metal struck and she heard the bone break. She fell
back to the dirt, unable to move. She grimaced and blinked back tears. Judging
by the pain in her ribs and left thigh, the arm wasn’t the only thing that had
been broken tonight.
“Okay, you know who I am. Now, who the
hell are you?”
“Oh!, I’m soooo sorry!
Where are my manners?” Jerry sneered.
Blackness threatened to
overtake Becky’s mind and she fought to remain awake. Fading in and out of
consciousness, she couldn’t keep track of their conversation. She was jolted
awake by a crunching noise accompanied by Bobby’s voice screaming in pain. In
her mind Becky grinned to herself. Maybe this would turn out alright after all.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH! That
does it!” Jerry bellowed. Then there was a gunshot. Becky was pretty sure it
was Jerry’s Colt 1908 pocket pistol, the one he called his ‘pea shooter.’
She could barely move, but she
had to know. And when she forced her eyes open, her worst fears were confirmed.
Werewolf had a large hole in the center of his forehead. His body apparently
didn’t know he was dead yet, because he hadn’t fallen down. Her heart went out
to him. He had come to help her, was murdered for his trouble and there was
nothing she could do about it. Her conscience told her that his death was her
fault, but she knew that her guilt would be short lived. The next bullet would
be for her.
Then the impossible happened.
“Lousy shot, Jerr. Are
you sure that thing’s loaded?”
Did the bullet miss him? No, the
hole was still in his forehead, but he was alive!
…to be completely honest, I’m a vampire, but the name Dracula was already taken…
As the battle turned, that age-old
knowledge she’d carried with her ever since 5th grade came back.
Monsters are really real.
She was looking at one, though
it obviously wasn’t a werewolf. Even Betty Jo would have agreed, though it
still looked pretty much like the guy she met on Baal. Only the face had
changed. The eyes had become small points of red fire and fangs protruded from
its mouth, preparing to rip out Jerry’s throat. Becky watched in horrid
fascination as the monster drew its victim close for the kill. Her mind was
reeling, trying to grasp the scene unfolding before her.
And then it clicked. He was a
vampire. And he was about to bite Jerry, which would make him a vampire, too!
Becky cried out a small,
The monster hesitated at her
cry. For a moment, everything was still. In her mind she saw visions of Jerry
and his buddies continuing to torment her, but now they had glowing red eyes
and long, sharp fangs. As the undead, they would live forever; torment her
forever. She couldn’t allow that.
“Don’t hurt them.”
she pleaded, “Please. You’ve got me. Let them go.”
Too weak to hold herself up,
she dropped back into her expanding pool of blood. She must have blacked out
again because the next thing she knew, the others were gone and Werewolf was in
front of her, his face showing great concern. He looked normal again, except
for the bullet hole in his head.
Her mind was lost in a
whirlwind, part of her wondering how he could possibly be alive, part of her trembling
in the knowledge that he wasn’t, and part of her not caring, just glad that he
had come. As he reached for her, she found the terror more powerful than the
“It’s alright now.
Nobody’s going to hurt you.” And then, “You’re bleeding pretty
But Becky was barely listening
to his words. Her mind was too busy
replaying every vampire movie she had ever seen. None of them cast the monster
as the good guy. But if he wasn’t the good guy, then who was? Maybe there would
be another plot twist and the good guy would show up.
Or worse, maybe there was
no good guy.
Then it no longer mattered.
The movie was over. Becky watched the screen fade to black and waited for the
credits to roll. She liked reading the credits after a movie. Now she’d find
out who the good guy was.
But, instead of credits, she
heard more dialogue.
“Becky, listen to me. I
need you to hang on a few more minutes. Here, swallow this.”
A week later, in his garage,
Jerry Felder’s birthday celebration was finally over. It had been pretty
fucking spectacular, though not quite as satisfying as it would have been if his
ole’ lady had been there.
But no problem; he’d found
another girl to take her place. Ray and Bobby had come over. Bobby was still on
crutches from that fight behind Zeke’s (and they’d put those crutches to good
use, hadn’t they?) His wristwatch now read 11:56 p.m. and his friends had gone
The new girl, if she were
conscious, would probably agree with Becky that monsters are really real. She
was slumped on the floor of the garage, bruised and bloody from the
‘spectacular show’ she had recently starred in. Jerry was amusing himself one
last time before calling it a night. His amusement was interrupted by a knock
at the door.
“Sweet Christ, Ray! Can’t
you even give us a moment of privacy?” Jerry swore as he opened the door.
But it wasn’t Ray.
Kneeling just outside the
door, wearing a large chambray work shirt with enough of the top unbuttoned to
show her body beneath was his old lady. Her wounds and bruises were gone and
her face looked as young and vibrant as the first day he met her. She looked up
at him with those big green eyes and said, “Happy Birthday.”
Jerry’s reaction was to jump
back in fear, tripping over the lawn mower and falling on his ass, his look of
stark terror nearly comical. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a
silver cross, which he’d kept on a chain around his neck ever since the big
fight last Saturday. Holding it in front of himself, he croaked at Becky,
“You’re not welcome here! Go away!”
“Will you at least
listen? Please?” her tone was subdued and she didn’t move.
Jerry thought for a second.
You could almost see the wheels turning in his head as an ugly, little smile
formed on his lips, “Okay. Sure, I’ll listen to you. All you gotta do is
grab hold of this cross. Then I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”
Becky’s hand reached out
calmly and he pressed the metal into her palm.
No reaction. No fire or smoke.
No sizzling flesh.
She held onto the cross for a
moment, curling her fingers around it, and brought it to her lips. Looking him
right in the eye, she licked it seductively before letting it go.
The obvious question was
painted on Jerry’s face and Becky answered it.
“He never bit me. He kept
swearing his eternal love, but wouldn’t even touch me without asking
permission. How could I love a man like that?”
“Oh, sure! And he just
let you go, right?”
“He let you go
when I told him to, didn’t he? He did everything I said. He told me I was the
reincarnation of a woman he had loved before, that I would remember after a
while and that I would grow to love him again, but he was wrong. I could never
love a monster like that.
“After a few days, when I was
still unhappy, he offered to give me anything I desired, ” she looked
down, coyly, “I told him that I desired you. I never realized it before,
but you’re the kind of man I want, Jerry. The only real man I’ve ever been
Jerry felt himself rising to
the occasion at her last words, but part of him still wasn’t convinced. Although,
for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why.
She was absolute perfection; her
rich, luxurious hair, her perfect, unblemished body, her full red lips and her
brilliant green eyes—he could get lost in those eyes. Her scent was positively erotic—a
delicious female musk hinting of desire and passion, with just a hint of…
But as enticing as she
appeared, there was definitely something wrong about her. He couldn’t quite put
his finger on it.
Unphased by his lack of
response, Becky continued, “He got really mad at me then. He cursed and
yelled.” Her hypnotic eyes bore into his. “Then he cried.”
Jerry’s eyes lit up. He
inhaled her musk deeply. If anything, it made her more irresistible than
She continued. “I argued with
him until finally he let me go. And I made him promise never to bother you or
Jerry was sold, although he
didn’t want her to know that. He needed to maintain the upper hand here, keep
her off balance. He challenged her.
“So, why’d you wait ’til
nightfall to show up? Why didn’t you come during the day?”
“He just let me go a few
hours ago. I took a taxi straight here – I even made him pay for it. I wanted
to show up in time for your birthday.
But I could wait out here until morning if you like and when the sun
comes up you’ll see that I’m nothing to be afraid of.”
Again, the wheels turned fast
and furious in Jerry’s mind as he considered his options; First of all, he
wasn’t afraid of anything. He’d fought a vampire and walked away unharmed.
Second, the cross didn’t hurt her. He’d seen enough movies to know that
vampires can’t touch crosses. Third, her story could be true. He wouldn’t be a
bit surprised to find that all vampires are as sappy as that one obviously was.
What a fucking loser!
And finally, she had leaned
slightly forward as she spoke, causing the shirt to hang open even more,
exposing those ripe little tits that were positively begging to be used by him—the
only real man she had been with. Adding
all those points in his head, he made his decision.
at his watch, “But it’s past midnight. My birthday is officially over now.
Hell, it’s not even March anymore, so you’ll have to apologize for being late.
I’ve also recruited another girl, so the two of you will have to learn to play
“I don’t mind.”
“One last thing. That
shirt. He gave it to you?”
“Well, I don’t like it. So
take it off and get your ass in here.”
Becky stood and walked inside
the garage, closing the door behind her. She began to slowly remove the shirt,
as if doing a strip tease for him.
” There was a message he
wanted me to give you.”
Jerry’s eyes were glued to her
body as she revealed herself completely. She was even more perfect than he had
remembered. Her skin was pristine, with not a single blemish anywhere. Barely
listening, he replied, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that? Happy Birthday?”
Becky stepped forward and
smiled a toothy smile, displaying her long sharp incisors.
“April Fools…” she
In the past week Becky learned
a great deal from her new master. The movies had gotten it completely wrong. She
knew, now, that it wasn’t the cross which posed a deterrent to their kind, it
was the faith of the wielder, assuming they had any. Jerry had none. She knew
that she couldn’t enter a house, or attached garage, unless invited by the
owner. Jerry had invited her in.
But, most importantly, she now
understood that drinking a victim’s blood—even to the point of
exsanguination—did not turn humans into vampires. She’d joined the undead only
because her master offered her his own blood. It was his gift to her and she
had accepted gratefully.
She let her tongue flick over
her fangs seductively. Her eyes shone like small points of red fire. Her
fingers hooked into claws. She grinned maliciously at the growing look of terror
on Jerry’s face.
It was going to be a long
night. This evening there would be Hell to pay, but this time she was
not the debtor. She let the shirt fall to the floor and stepped forward to
embrace her old lover.
Thank you for reading “Wolf Girl”. I hope you enjoyed it. As I said in an earlier post, it’s the first story I ever had published. You can find more on Amazon Kindle.
Talk with you again, soon.