Short Stories

The Wolves of a Madman

It was nearly dusk, one freezing and moonless night in October, when a lost and terrified man came screaming from the protective shelter of the deep frozen woods holding his seemingly injured hand. He fell at the feet of a young girl with deep dark eyes and a sweet and innocent look on her face. He begged her to help free him of the wild beasts following him close behind. She stared for a second or two into his lost and tortured eyes, before quickly searching around. Why there is no one here but us she spoke in a comforting tone, when suddenly the man screamed as though something were ripping the flesh from his throat and jerked his body wildly in massive convulsions. She then dropped to her knees trying helplessly to restrain him, but was only thrown backwards with a forceful push. Suddenly he seized convulsing and gazed openly at her with clear eyes. She then approached him as he got to his feet. My god! The young girl cried in panic are you alright? He spoke quietly as he faced her, not now perhaps never. Are you mad? She inquired, but there was no reply as he shook with exhaustion. Does this happen to you very often? She asked in almost a whisper. Only when I have been bitten -he answered in the same low tone, as he showed her an unmarked hand, and as she slowly walked away from him, she stared off into the distance of the woods.

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