werewolf, werewolves and lycans


Somehow, Leland made it back across the living room floor.

*Don’t wanna die! Don’t wanna die!*

The pain had driven him to a point past suffering. Each breath came out as a whimper, each movement a squeal of anguish.


He crawled to the front door, which Marley had not bothered to close. He pushed it open with his head. After an hour or so, he managed to drag himself out onto the porch.

*Get to the road! Somebody’ll come along!*

Leland stopped at the edge of the porch, at the steps. He’d never given those steps a second thought. Just three little steps. Nothing at all. Except now, Leland knew, no way in Hell was he getting down those steps.

*Nobody can see me up here!*

With a groan, Leland rolled himself off the porch. Over the steps. He lost consciousness before he hit the ground. When Leland awoke–

*How long have I been here?! Is it the same night?!*

–he found that all his previous experience of pain had become obsolete, just a dream of the reality to be discovered upon waking. He bawled and squealed until he lost his breath, then, refilling his lungs, bawled and squealed some more. He choked on snot and tears. He cursed, begged, bargained, all in his head.

When he tried to move, he found that he could not. Not an inch.

*S’okay! Somebody’s gonna drive by and see me! Somebody will!*

And Leland Crosper was right on that account. Somebody did drive past his trailer and notice him there, splayed out on the ground at the foot of his front porch.

But four days had passed by then, and Leland Crosper was no longer in need of anybody’s help.

* * *

The Evil Cheezman • July 2, 2019

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