Pizza for Wolves

Sheldon Bennet, 21, was not particularly special by any discernible means. He worked at an average job, drove an average car, and lived in a perfectly normal house with average people. I suppose you’re expecting that Sheldon’s life is about to change, that he’s about to commit a heroic deed or save a damsel in distress. But this story isn’t about anything Sheldon did or accomplished. It is about something that happened to him, one clear October night.

“30 minutes or you’re fired!” Joe Accordino shouted. Sheldon’s boss was a short, angry man, and it wouldn’t do to upset him. He wasn’t really going to fire Sheldon of course. He was his best driver. But you see, the pizza business is a serious business. There’s no room for messing about, and Joe liked to run a tight ship. Hundreds of orders come in every day, and it’s Sheldon that takes them out. Sheldon, in his average little car, delivers pizzas to the average citizens of Herbertsville. But tonight was a special night, for it was Hallowe’en, the busiest night of the year. You might have guessed another day to be the busiest for delivery drivers. Maybe Black Friday, or the day of a big sports event. But on Hallowe’en, hungry children would return from trick-or-treating, unsatisfied and hyper from candy, and demand a late-night meal. 

Sheldon breathed in the nighttime air, an insulated bag of pizzas at his side. Ah, Hallowe’en night, he thought. There’s nothing like it in the world. On that luscious evening once a year the depth of fall, the cusp of twilight, and the chill that hints of winter, all come together to become one. Sheldon put a stop to his drifting mind. He’d better hurry to the car if he was to make this delivery.

Sheldon gripped the steering wheel. It was cold. Yes, Hallowe'en was unique, especially to our average protagonist. But there was something in the air that he couldn’t quite trace- something eerie and unnatural and dangerous. 

Pushing much farther past the speed limit than he would have cared to admit, Sheldon raced through the night. The streets were mostly clear of cars, and the stores were empty of shoppers, though street lights and store lights alike shone steadily and bright. Caught at a traffic light, Sheldon noticed a piercing gleam in the sky. The clouds had parted to reveal a full moon. And not just a normal full moon- a magnificent, terrifying harvest moon. Sheldon shivered. It felt like an omen.

Click-click, click-click, went the turning signal. Easily gliding past lanes of nonexistent traffic on the empty road, Sheldon found his way to a neighborhood. He passed several other delivery cars, and a large hayride full of children. The children were giggling and playing, and the orange glow of Hallowe'en seemed to emanate from them. He spied a princess, a pirate, and a… was that a pineapple? As a pizza man by trade, he had been trained to hate pineapple. But secretly, in his innermost of hearts, Sheldon’s mouth watered at the sight of a pineapple pizza. But please don’t tell Joe this, as it would anger him. You know just how temperamental Joe can be.

Sheldon had delivered to this neighborhood before but had not realized just how far the road went. Past the little suburban houses, a stretch of cornfield lay. And finally, at the end of the drive- and let me emphasize again, the end of the drive, for it was a very long drive, Sheldon found his destination. He crossed his fingers and his toes, hoping he could make it back to the pizza shop in time. It was getting late already. 

An enormous gothic house sat in a crooked fashion at the boundary of the street. It looked as though someone had tried to bake a cake in the shape of a house and it had sunk. The windows were at odd angles, the shingles were falling off, and it appeared to be in danger of collapsing. It too emanated Hallowe’en light. The same glow Sheldon had seen from the children was found seeping through those windows. This glow, however, was more demonic in nature. The house was at least three stories tall, and the roof culminated in several spiky points. Right at the top of the dwelling, illuminating it in a shadowing backlight, was the full harvest moon. It had followed Sheldon from that traffic light, all the way to its destination. He wondered if there was some way to get rid of it. He didn’t quite like it as much as he used to.

Sheldon reached his hand over to the passenger seat. The insulated pizza bag was still hot to the touch. Good. Now he had better hurry up and deliver it, so he could make it back before his allotted thirty minutes were up. These people had better give him a big tip, for driving out here. Sheldon’s feet grew numb as he approached the door. The house became more foreboding with every step, and as he grew nearer he discovered a sense of dread welling up within him. What kind of people lived in this house? They could either be incredibly rich, or extremely poor. It was so large, it bordered on a mansion, but it was in a quite dilapidated condition. Sheldon settled on “excruciatingly rich, undeniably eccentric” as a pre-description of the inhabitants.

The porch sagged underneath the combined weight of Sheldon and the pizzas. I should mention, it was a large number of pizzas, and Sheldon’s arm was getting tired. He peered around the door, searching for a doorbell, but there was not one to be found. That was to be expected, at a house like this. They probably still operated on candles instead of electricity, Sheldon imagined. Now that he was closer to the windows, he could observe the orange glow up close. He gazed at it, studied it, but it was still indiscernible.

Finally, Sheldon found the courage to rap on the door. The large wooden door heaved open with a sigh, and a large, furry figure emerged to greet him. 

“Ah, there you are! Here’s your tip.” 

Sheldon’s mouth stood agape. Standing in front of him was a massive, hideous… werewolf.

Somehow he found the power to reach into the paw and grab the money, and as he walked away, two 6-inch, glistening fangs stared back at him. Sheldon stepped into his car and drove away. The orange glow of Hallowe’en spirit departed behind him. It nearly overshadowed the moon in brightness.

Joe’s face was angry when Sheldon walked in. “You’re nearly 20 minutes late, you know. Our busiest night and my best driver disappears! What happened to you?” 

“Eh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Sheldon responded flatly.

Sheldon grabbed the next stack of pizzas, read the delivery address, and went back to his perfectly average life.