XIII – The Doctor

The werewolves were right outside the door and without warning they started scratching and banging on the walls and door. The doctor wondered if the latch was going to hold them. He then remembered that he had left his satchel back at the barn along with his amulet. He realized that probably wasn’t a good idea. John grabbed his kerosene lamp and went through the house, leaving the doctor staring at the trembling door. The doctor felt helpless.

John came back in a calmer mood. He probably had nerves of steel. The doctor couldn’t see why he wouldn’t. The werewolves were everywhere even on the roof and no matter how loud the creatures snarled and growled even the sister never cried out in fear. How long had they been experiencing this?  Was this a constant occurrence? The man signaled the doctor to stay quiet. John stood with him in the living room staring at the door. The doctor’s breathing grew slower and sweat poured from his forehead. Then as it had begun the attack ended. It was quiet again.

The doctor could hear his heart beating in his ear, trying to listen for any movements outside. Were they gone? Where did they go? The doctor hated the suspense.

“They’ve stopped for now,” whispered John. “This is how it all starts every night. They will attack the house sometimes for an hour other times for a few seconds. They get worse if they hear you. Then they walk away.”

“Where do they go?” the doctor asked.

John pointed at the door. “They line up a hundred feet facing the house. They just sit there and watch us. I can see their red eyes glowing.”

He beckoned the doctor to stare out the window. He carefully parted the curtains and there they were eight of them lined up side by side.

“There are usually more,” said John. “Sometimes they circle the house other times they sit in rows like this as if they know we are watching them too. We never know what they will do next. Once the sun goes up they disappear like smoke in the air.”