A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

“Sir?”

Valentine Lycan brought his gaze back onto the cashier, who took the opportunity to wipe with his sleeve the small amount of dandruff that had accumulated onto the desk throughout the day.

“5 dollars please” the cashier repeated himself.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Valentine apologized as he pulled out his worn out leather wallet out of his hind pocket, “I haven’t slept all that well last night”

The cashier scoffed, then nonchalantly turned around to see what his client was previously looking at.

“Today’s selection is quite good” he commented while pulling out a random magazine from the rack. He quickly flipped through it while Valentine scrambled through his backpack for the remaining dollar bill.

“National Geographic knows its stuff” he added, trying to fill into the void.

“Mm” Valentine absentmindedly concurred, and as soon as he found what he sought for, he slammed the dollars onto the front desk, “And here you go”

His attention was brought back onto the cashier and coincidentally, the latter held the magazine he had noticed before: a 101 about Astrology. Everywhere he went, he always had to be reminded about what he dreaded the most: the night.

Valentine grabbed the bag of candy and spun around, swinging the front door with great force on his way out.

“Have a nice-“ the cashier said just as the door slammed closed, the small faint sound of the bell accompanying it as it did so, “-day”

Valentine’s pace increased as he crossed the gas station. His blue second hand car was parked right across, patiently waiting next to the pump sign.

 The sound of the surrounding traffic grew louder and louder, causing his right ear to start ringing. He began to jog, even though his car was just a few feet away.

A false sense of security hit him when he reached the passenger door. He ran his hand across it then across the hood of the car. He then propped the colourful packaging under his arm, frantically looking through his pocket for the keys. He could feel his heart rate going up, his vision getting blurrier as the seconds went by.

Valentine took the last sharp turn before finding himself in front of the driver's door. After eventually finding the keys in the opposite side of his denim jeans, he finally got the door open.

He threw the bag on the passenger’s side and sat down with all of his force onto his seat, making sure to shut the door next to him. Finally alone.

Why did I go out in the first place? I shouldn’t have, there was no need to go out he thought as he looked at himself in his mirror, readjusting his glasses in the process. His bloodshot eyes made an odd contrast with his dark eyes. But somehow, his short jet black hair seemed to be in place.

Valentine gently placed his hands onto the steering wheel. His knuckles slowly turned white from the force he exerted on his grip.

He took a big breath in, and as he exhaled, he placed his head against the wheel, closing his eyes in the process.

I lost control.

The day before, October 31^st 2001

Valentine could never stand the ruckus of his espresso machine. What an odd way to start ones mornings, he always thought to himself. After a calm, sweet night’s sleep, you’re greeted with the obnoxious buzz of an apparatus which is supposed to deliver you the highlight of the morning.

TV Commercials are always deceiving.

After picking up his small cup of coffee, Valentine made his way to his sofa, the latter being surrounded by unopened and half-opened cardboard boxes, sporadically scattered throughout the entire ground floor: he never found the time for these types of tasks. His life entirely consisted of his work, and he loved that.

He loved it, though, mainly because it was a distraction from the burden life had granted him.

Valentine grew up in a loving family: he lived in a small secluded house with his mother and father. His mother bore the same burden, but never complained about it nor ever showed any signs of it, even when the moon had reached its notorious stage. She was in control.

A few years went by and Valentine was ready to move out. His parents were against him leaving so soon, especially for the bigger city, but he insisted that he could manage. Besides, he had never gotten into much trouble despite his “condition”, so what was the worst that could happen, he thought.

And sure enough, after four years, Valentine graduated with an economics degree and decided to pursue his career as a teacher.

He was loved as a teacher, as a co-worker and as a neighbour. Everything was going well for him until one faithful Friday night, the night of a full moon, he lost control.

Valentine had to quit his job in the high school he worked in and decided to move out to a quieter place. It wasn’t easy, nor was it cheap, but he eventually found a house that was located near a wooded area. A safe haven. Over more, he managed to find a job in a nearby high school, bringing him a step closer to normalcy.

But unfortunately, after the incident, Valentine wasn’t himself. Sleepless nights were recurrent, random feelings of fear would unexpectedly surge through him and paranoia was now added to his list of ailments. 

And that night, October 31^st wasn’t your average evening. Sure, it was Halloween, a night of trick and treating and everything that came with it. But all of those activities were in grim company: the one of the full moon.

After finishing his cup of coffee, Valentine made his way to the sink. From his kitchen window, he had a somewhat panoramic view of his street: jack-o-lanterns were placed at every doorstep, some neighbours chose to be modest with the strategically placed cloth ghost while others chose the more extravagant route with tomb stones, zombies and your run of the mill skeleton hiding in a tree.

His house though, wasn’t decorated in any way. Just a dull, yellow painted house amidst those of people who actually cared a damn. Keeping a low profile was what he was striving for, hoping deep inside that his strategy wasn’t going to have the opposite effect.

Valentine sighed loudly to release the sudden build up of tension and tried to resume his day as normally as possible. It was a Wednesday, so work ought to keep his mind off of tonight and besides, he was prepared. For the past few months, he had noticed a recurrent pattern: on those faithful nights, he noticed that if he was stress-free, with no disturbances whatsoever and as long as he could stay mindful, everything would be alright. So the day prior, he managed to get hold of ear plugs and some natural sleep inducing supplements he had found in some shop.

****

That day at work proved to be more stressful than hoped. Sending a student to the principal’s office after an altercation was less than ideal and now the thought that one of his colleagues was going to come by to give him some crucial papers, even less so.

After taking a quick cold shower, Valentine went upstairs to his bedroom. While awaiting his colleague, he chose to lay down on his bed, witnessing the darkness of the night slowly consuming his room. The pills were just at arms reach, but he couldn't risk missing the papers.

An hour went by with no signs of his co-worker. His patience started to run low.

 Even though his eyes were glued to the ceiling, right in his peripheral vision, he could start to tell the tell-tale silvery glimmer reflecting off of a picture he had hanging on the wall.

Valentine shut his eyes with all of his might, Damnit!

He only managed to take a few deep breaths before he got interrupted by the strident sound of his bell.

He shot up, feeling his pulse sky rocketing. He quickly got up, now trying to focus at one hundred percent on his new task at hand: get the papers and get the hell back up upstairs.

Valentine ran downstairs in a hurry, forgetting his glasses in the process. Myopia wasn’t going to stop him from opening the front do-

The huge bang of him hitting the dining room table echoed throughout the room. He yelped in response, his voice being slightly distorted. This went completely unnoticed on his part.

He lunged towards the front door, and swung it wide open. At this point, his pain had completely subsided.

“Trick or treat!” a group of children yelled in a synchronized fashion. A little boy, who was dressed as a skeleton, stepped in front and lifted a decorated bucket.

Valentine shook his head, simultaneously trying to get over the sound of their high pitched voices and to convey his surprise, but in vain. The kids were insistent, they didn’t budge.

“You are supposed to give us candy… or money” the little boy whispered, trying to be as polite as possible.

Valentine cleared his voice, “No, no I don’t have any of those here, I’m sorry” he sincerely apologized.

The group of children then let out a laugh, only the oldest at the back seemed to try to contain themselves. But children being children, they didn’t have much of a filter.

“Your voice is funny!” a kid dressed as another skeleton exclaimed.

Upon hearing that, Valentine abruptly closed his door and pressed his back against it.

Oh no, oh no no no…

He looked down at his arms, inspecting each square inch of skin on them: still normal. He blindly inspected his face: still smooth, still normal. He then let out a small sound to listen to his own voice: didn’t seem much different from normal.

Okay, I’m in control.

Valentine took a few steps forward and glanced to his right to see the time. Where on earth is Alan? The young teacher decided to sit down on his couch. He let his head rest on his hands, contemplating about what he should do next.

Should I just call it a night, or wait for those damn documents?

He turned his head, and spotted his cell phone at the back of the room. He quickly stood up and went to get it. Upon pressing on Alan’s name in his contact list, it went directly to voicemail.

“Ah, of course” he whispered under his breath.

He threw his phone onto the dining room table and started to head back to his room. Just as he was about to put his foot on the first step, a sudden gut feeling told him to look behind him. And there, just behind his window, stood five children, grinning at him.

He could have simply ignored them, but that night, he couldn’t. He stormed towards his kitchen windows to lower the blinds. Once he did so, almost as it were rehearsed, the strident sound of his doorbell rang once more.

His phone, in the background, started to ring as well. Alan was returning his call.

Valentine got struck by a fierce headache, causing him to take a few step backwards, finding himself hitting his counter. His hand, in response, accidentally hit one of the appliances on the counter.

The loud buzz of his coffee machine bounced off the walls, resonating in the entire house.

Valentine blocked out his ears, the palms of his hands violently hitting either side of his head. But despite his attempts in preventing the sound to get to him, his hearing became more and more acute.

The cacophony that surrounded him felt more and more unbearable. He could feel beads of sweat rolling down his back.

He fell forwards due to the sheer stress that surged through him, but tried to desperately get up despite his condition, similarly to a wounded animal trying to escape from a predator.

He soon found himself in the other end of his living room, the end where his phone rang relentlessly. All he hoped was a bit of respite, but that hope soon ran out when he heard the voice of a little girl outside his living room window, a window where he hadn’t closed the blinds.

“Look at the neighbour!” she called out to her friends, “he has a werewolf costume!”

The moment he heard that word, Valentine Lycan was completely gone. He felt suddenly numb, all of the thoughts that were consuming him were withering away. All the sounds around him were muffled, his vision was doubled. The only thing he felt was the vibration of his heart beating, the blood pounding through his veins. His breathing slowed, becoming heavier and heavier by the second.

Just as everything seemed lost, he felt a rush of adrenaline. He stood up. All his senses slowly came back to him.

He sensed a presence in his backyard.

The blood curling screams of children were drowned amidst the playful laughs and shouting of the trick and treaters of the calm, quiet suburban neighbourhood.

November 1^st 2001

Valentine Lycan drove back to his street after his stop at the gas station. Police cars were parked further up: two little girls disappeared the night before. Rumour had it that an animal was seen in the streets then in the forest that faithful night.

Police officers were knocking on every door, but it didn’t seem like they had reached the young teacher’s house yet.

Valentine hastily drove up in front of his home and tried his best to look as normal as possible as he walked up to his front door.

He crossed his house and made a direct beeline to his back door. He jumped over his low fence and ran into the forest.

His eyes started to well up as he ran deeper into the woods, he couldn’t help the knot that was forming in his throat.

What have I done..

After 10 minutes, he reached a small abandoned shed. Upon getting closer, small muffled whimpers could be heard.

He opened the small wooden door.

The two little girls were sitting in the corner, paralyzed with fear. Despite the shed door being unlocked, they didn’t dare to step outside. Their costumes were covered with mud and dirt, barely recognizable. One of the girls had bloody scratches on her arms while the other couldn’t walk on her own.

Valentine brought his hand to his face, massaging his temples in the process. He took a big breath in. When he exhaled, he took out the bag of candy and left it by the door, knowing that the children wouldn’t touch if he were to give it to them directly.

Valentine Lycan cleared his throat and crouched down.

“I’m sorry” he muttered.

He then abruptly threw his phone onto the forest floor right next to the cabin and made his way deeper into the forest.

I lost control.

***

Valentine's Voicemail:

"Hey Val, it's Alan. I'm sorry I missed your call but I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight, I've got to take care of the kids you know. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry once again for the inconvenience and well, happy halloween I suppose! Cheers"