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The Werewolf
The wolf was buried within the depths of the woods never to be seen again. However, the human body emerged thereafter, beneath the soil as the sun had rose high the next morn. Scrooge, Julie, and I stood examining the ground as Julie said goodbye.
Soon Julie was escorted back to her home, and I stood, staring through the trees of the forest. Scrooge spoke.
“I must ask of you a favor, Face,” he said.
“Sure, what is it?” I asked.
He took out a sealed envelope and handed it to me.
“Take this letter to my nephews back in Luckburg. My hired pilot is taking me back to the secluded woodlands of Scotland. Tell Hubert, Dubert, and Loubert that I wish the best for them.”
I was puzzled as I held the envelope in my hand.
“Leaving Luckburg? But why?” I wondered.
“It is not for me to say at this moment. But you will find out soon, lad,” he answered. “Good day, then.”
He then walked with cane in hand toward his dark blue limousine, as his very own chauffeur held the door open for him. And once the door had slammed shut, I watched as the car drove down the winding road and as it vanished in the distance.
The next morning, I went back to work, attempting to readjust back to the normal routines of the day. It seemed as though that all other mysterious cases had been flukes, and they had disappeared overnight. But had they really vanished? I wondered this to myself, for legends continue to thrive. I soon found out as Samantha walked toward me.
She questioned, “Do you remember how Mr. Potluck said that when the werewolf was killed… the victims would be revived?”
“Yes,” I said. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s a funeral being held for Julie’s other boyfriend later on today… his obituary is listed in the paper…” She pointed.
My eyes had grown with concern as I looked at the panel. Then the werewolf must have not been killed. “That’s impossible…” I said. “Unless…” I began to ponder.
I remembered the envelope that I had been given, and took it out.
“What’s that?” Samantha asked.
“It’s an envelope I got from Mr. Potluck. He said for me to give it to his nephews. This here… may explain why those victims aren’t alive…”
“Well, hurry up and open it! This could be the scoop of the century!” Samantha cried.
I hesitated. “Wait… I don’t feel right opening someone else’s mail…”
“Oh, just hand it over…” Samantha ordered, as her hands swiped the envelope from mine.
She ripped the envelope open and forced the letter into her hands. I grabbed hold of the parchment as well, and we began to read.
Dear Hubert, Dubert, and Loubert,
I regret to inform you lads that I must be leaving you for a time. And most likely, I believe I shall not ever be returning home. Though I have watched you grow since you were small, and must be leaving you now, I do wish the best for you for as long as you live. You lads were truly a great blessing to my life. You were always good-natured, and never caused me any trouble. You were there with me during those times when Sorcera de Spell tried to steal me own lucky penny. You were there when the Beatnik Boys tried to take over me money bin. I will truly miss your company, and will never forget you. I am happy to say that your Uncle Don has accepted to take custody over you. I’m sure you’ll have great times. Do not worry about me. I will be fine. Just live your lives, grow old, and be happy. Goodbye, sons… I’ll miss you.
Sincerely,
Your Dear Old Uncle Scrooge.
P.S. Face, thank you for delivering this message. I hope now, you understand what I must do.
Samantha lowered her almost teary eyes as she read the last line. She wiped them with her hand and then glanced closer at the text.
Her face transformed to express sudden perplexity. “What? The Face? Why would he be…” Samantha looked up in profound realization.
“You…”
I looked back, surprisingly trying to conceal things. “Me? No… not me. Whatever is in your mind… It’s all a dream! In fact… this has all been a dream! Come on, werewolves. You honestly don’t believe…”
“This is the news of the century! Masked Marauder ‘The Face’ is really Co-Working Journalist!” She cried in glee at what she had finally discovered.
I begged the wily conspirator not to publish any news regarding my alternate alias. “Come on, let’s discuss this here… don’t be too hasty!”
But she ignored the pleas. “Wow, it’ll make front page, and I’ll be famous,” she daydreamed.
“Wait! Wait! Hold on a minute! I’ll give you credit on all my current stories! Even this werewolf one!”
She stared skeptically. Then she laughed.
“Relax, I won’t tell your secret. I know what you’re doing is good, along with most of what all the other heroes like Scrooge are doing out there.”
“Wow, you do?” I asked. I never would have expected for her to understand this.
“Yes, I do. Despite what you may think, I have at least some views that are similar to yours. Now your hero attire… that could use a little rethinking.”
“But anyway…” she continued. “What’s with the victim’s still being dead? Is Jon still alive?”
I rubbed my chin in thought. “No. It’s not him I’m worried about… It’s the other werewolf that I’m worried about.”
“The other werewolf?” Samantha asked.
At that moment, an eerie howl from a not-too-distant werewolf could be heard echoing through our ears.
And then Tim emerged upon the scene, holding a stuffed Werewolf Plush Doll with a howling recording built into it.
“Hey guys! I just came in from a late night. Trick-or-treating was the shiz! I got this cool action figure wolf from one of the neighbors! It’s awesome! See it?” He held the wolf in front of Samantha’s face, who held her hand to her mouth in fright. “I’m gonna put Wolfie in my cubicle!”
Without warning Samantha grabbed the plush doll with quick hands. “Get that thing away from me!” She cried, throwing it out of the window to the depths below.
Tim stood awestruck, and deeply disappointed. “Well fine, then. See if I ever show you anymore cool souvenirs again!” He stomped back to his gaming grounds… his cubicle, and put a large sack of candy down beneath his desk.
At that very point in time, I wondered what would become of the true Wolfman who had departed to never be seen again; the man that used to be, Scrooge Potluck.
7
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