#MenageMonday Challenge – Week 39

Three prompts living under one challenge roof?

Welcome to #MenageMonday!

Week 39


Rules Recap

  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge. Your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 200 words.
  • Incorporate each of the three prompts into your story. The phrase prompt (and anything else in quotations) MUST be used exactly as given.
  • Post your story into the comments of this post.
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging).
  • Please include your Twitter handle or email.
  • The contest opens at 7 A.M. and closes at 10 P.M. Eastern Time.
  • Generally speaking, the winner will be revealed Tuesday evening, huzzah!

So what do you get for all your time and effort, you ask? Badges, of course. (What, you thought this was a funded operation?) #MenageMonday awards THREE (squeeee!) badges each week:

  • There is the undisputed CHAMP. Rather self explanatory.
  • There is the JUDGE’S PET, for best use of the Judge’s prompt.
  • Last but not least, the JUDGE gets a badge, because Judges need love, too.

Our Guest Photographer for Week 39:

Two time judge (that sounds kind of naughty), writer, and occasional challenger…

Jerry L. Gentry | @JLGentry


Our Judge for Week 39:

Language Arts teacher by day (+night)/ UF Author/ Rep’d by Gina Panettieri/Feminist/ Endeavoring reviewer/Happy wife/SFF Enthusiast/ Loves dark humor + Batman…

Jalisa Blackman | @J_M_Blackman

She’s also a #MenageMonday champ, so best bring your A-games.


Challenge Time!

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

The Photo:

The Phrase: “barking mad” (this can appear anywhere in the story)

The Judge’s Prompt: give me a werewolf tale (tail?). Whether it be how they were turned, where they like to prowl, or just a night under the moon.



And we’re off. The clock is ticking. Good writing and good luck!

36 thoughts on “#MenageMonday Challenge – Week 39

  1. “Samuel James Dalton, come here RIGHT NOW!”

    When his mother used all three names, it was serious. Sammy dropped his toy, giving a sigh that sounded half like a growl, and went into the kitchen.

    Sammy’s sister Anna smirked at him. That was also never a good sign.

    “Did we discuss how to behave, when we moved here?” Mrs. Dalton yelled. “Well?”

    Sammy nodded.

    “It was hard to find a house, especially after what happened last time! We found a place with a good school, and nice neighbors. NICE neighbors,” she repeated, to make certain the point sank in. “Now, what did your sister find, in the back yard? Bones, Sammy. Not a squirrel or a raccoon. CAT bones. Do you know anything about that?”

    Sammy shook his head.

    “No? Perhaps THIS will jog your memory!” She held up a paper with a photograph of a Persian cat and the caption, “MISSING: Mr. Fluffums. Please call if you’ve seen me!”

    “The rest of the family eat WILD animals at the full moon. But you? YOU have to eat our next-door-neighbor’s cat!” She threw the paper down. “I swear to Hecate, child, one day you’re going to drive me barking mad!”

    200 words

  2. It was gonna be a long summer, damn-it. I was barking mad. This was the 4th full moon in a row where someone had found bones. I looked at ‘em. Stripped of everything. Wondered what it had been.

    A small crowd had gathered. I knew the story was spreading again. My deputy stared at the bones. “They say it’s werewolves that done this. That they only come out on a full moon.”

    I shook my head. “Tommy. Werewolves’re like vampires, fairies, and mermaids. They ain’t real. Someone just wants us to believe it’s werewolves.”

    The medical examiner arrived. I asked him about the marks on the bones. They were made by knives, not teeth or claws. Someone was stripping the bones. Taking all the flesh. Examiner said the bones were probably from a cow, or horse. He’d know in a few hours.

    Whoever’d done this had to have come and gone. There had to be a tracks of some kind. I’d call on my Indian friend Crow. He could track anything. He could find, and follow those tracks.

    Damn-it, but it was gonna be a long summer.

    196 words.

  3. “Were were You Last Night?”
    By Wakefield Mahon

    “You ate her!”


    “You ate my best friend!”

    “Well what did you expect to happen?”

    “Oh I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d hang out and go shoes shopping, maybe go to the movies, anything but this!”

    “Oh stop being so overdramatic!”

    “Overdramatic? I met you on the side of the road, three weeks ago, you look like you’d been mauled by a bear. I pitied you, nursed you back to health.”

    “Yeah, that was a bad weekend. I really appreciate your help.”

    “You’ve got some way of showing it. You said you were looking for a pack, so I introduced you to Sandra, the alpha, and you…”

    “Ate her, yes, you said that already. I really don’t know where everyone gets the idea that werewolves are intelligent.”

    “You mean you’re not a wolf?”

    “Oh, she can learn!”

    “Well I know you smelled different but… the only ones who ever attack us are werecats and you don’t smile the slightest bit feline.”

    “What do I smell like?”

    “A wolf, who’s just eaten rabbit and maybe antelope.”

    “Except I just ate a wolf, meaning…?”

    “I don’t… unless… Jackalopes don’t exist!”

    “Of course not my sweet dessert, and neither do werewolves.”

    200 words

    1. Amended with many apologies!

      “Were were You Last Night?”
      By Wakefield Mahon

      “You ate her!”


      “You ate my best friend!”

      “Well what did you expect to happen?”

      “Oh I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d hang out and go shoes shopping, maybe go to the movies, anything but this!”

      “Oh stop being so overdramatic!”

      “Overdramatic? I found you on the side of the road, three weeks ago, you look like you’d been mauled by a bear. I pitied you, nursed you back to health.”

      “Yeah, that was a bad weekend. I really appreciate your help.”

      “You’re barking mad if you think that’s appreciation. You said you were looking for a pack, I introduce you to Sandra, the alpha, and you…”

      “Ate her, yes, you said that already. I really don’t know where everyone gets the idea that werewolves are intelligent.”

      “You mean you’re not a wolf?”

      “Oh, she can learn!”

      “Well I know you smelled different but… the only ones who ever attack us are werecats and you don’t smile the slightest bit feline.”

      “What do I smell like?”

      “A wolf, who’s just eaten rabbit and maybe antelope.”

      “Except I just ate a wolf, meaning…?”

      “I don’t… unless… Jackalopes don’t exist!”

      “Of course not my sweet dessert, and neither do werewolves.”

      200 words

  4. Megan screamed herself awake. The nightmare had been vivid; images of blood and bone still hung before her eyes. No way was she going back to sleep tonight. Pushing back the covers, she got up and paced around the flat, fighting to find a sense of calm; trying to shake off the dream’s lingering grip.

    A burning sensation startled her, and she looked down to see blisters circling her wrist beneath the silver bracelet her grandmother had given her. She worn the thing for years, ever since she’d been bitten by one of the stray dogs hanging around the old farm. Megan remembered that her grandmother had also said it would protect her from evil. But the old dear had been considered barking mad by then.

    Heading for the bathroom sink, Megan removed the bracelet. Agony shot through her. Her nerves were on fire. Her breath came in piercing gasps. Anguish closed her throat. And just as she was about to collapse the world shimmered and everything changed.

    The need to break free from man-made walls was overpowering. Howling for joy, she sprang free. She was hunger and thirst, revelling in the hunt, waiting for the thrill of the kill.

    199 words

  5. Transformation

    The bones. How they haunt me. My first kill, after Daniel bit me. I remember the roaring pain in my body, and how I thought I would go barking mad. There is no real way to describe the transformation into a werewolf. Not in human speech, anyway. One reason the werewolf howls at the bright orb in the heavens is from the pain it brings. The silver light sears you to your core, and you think you’ll die, then you wish you could. You kill not only from hunger, but from rage at the helplessness you feel.

    Daniel bit me to be cruel, when I wouldn’t give in to his demands for physical intimacy. The next night, the moon was full, and I had no idea what was happening to me, but I battered my way into the darkness and found a victim. I brought down a jogger, enjoying the cool of the evening. He never even had a chance to scream. I woke the next day, bathed in blood, and took his bones back to my house, where I buried them in my backyard.

    Now, every month before the full moon, I dig them up, hoping to get caught.

    200 words {without title}

  6. The body lay in the trampled grass, nothing more than bones articulated by bits of dried skin and sinew. Nik skirted around the area, inhaling the myriad scents of cat and predator. It was barking mad to be anywhere near a cougar’s kill, but Chayse had insisted on meeting in their natural forms outside the city. This clearing had been their favorite.

    Before Chayse turned tail and ran.

    The sound of soft paws among gravel hit Nik’s sensitive ears and he braced himself for confrontation, either with the puma or Chayse’s animosity. Neither would be particularly pleasant.

    So you came. Chayse’s tongue lolled as he caught his breath.

    I said I would. Nik stood braced on all four feet, his hackles rising. What do you want?

    Chayse bristled. Stay away from Lady Aislynn.

    Outrage curled through Nik and he growled. Giving orders now, little brother? First you ran away to ‘fit in’, now you’re telling me who I can be with?

    I’m trying to protect you, asshole. You don’t know succubae like I do. They’re deadly.

    Nik presented his tail to Chayse in disdain. How would you know?

    Because I was addicted to one. That’s why I ‘ran’.

    198 #WIP500 words

  7. The new arrival sat in an armchair facing the window. His eyes were following the reflection of the rising moon. He was rocking gently.

    “He’s barking mad that one.”

    “How d’you know? He’s only just got here.”

    “Heard the nurses talking. Said he was picked up by coppers last night. Stark bollock naked, snarling and howling.”

    “Bloody Hell. Stay away from that one.”


    “You heard about the bones?”

    “Yeah. Found in the grounds this morning. Rat or something.”

    “Yeah. But it weren’t a rat. More like a bloody dog by the size of ‘em I heard.”

    “Bugger off.”

    “Stripped clean the guards said.”


    The men looked over at the new arrival quietly picking at his breakfast. He didn’t appear to have much of an appetite.

    They looked at each other, raised eyebrows.


    “Couldn’t be.”

    Later, he was having trouble sleeping. He could see the new arrival’s room across the corridor. He saw the door open slightly and a shape came into view. It was hunched over on four legs. It looked unnatural. He saw red eyes flash, looking directly at him. The animal darted away, faster than anything he had seen.

    Stay away from that one, he thought.

    200 words.


  8. “Sacrificial Wolf”

    Loreen vomited into the hay-like grass. She was surrounded by verdant green, except for the irregular shape seared into the field. The stench of charred flesh assaulted her, and tears streamed down her face as she retched again.

    “Let’s go!” Cal’s tone was harsh.


    “Are you barking mad? The dogs will be here to collect the bones soon.”

    Loreen hunched over the remains of the dead werewolf. Her werewolf. She trailed her index finger reverently over his cheekbone, still warm from incineration.

    He’d died protecting her.

    “I didn’t even know his name,” she whispered. Tears dripped, rolling over the contours of the skull. The blast of the flamethrower would haunt her dreams forever, though not as often as his eyes—blue-green, ringed with amber.

    She’d watched, transfixed, from the outcropping of rocks he’d snugged her between. His eyes held no regret, meeting hers for just a moment as he faced off with her enemies. Then they closed for the last time, the blistering heat warming the cool dampness of the stones that sheltered her.

    “His death will not be for nothing. If they kill me, so be it.” She swiped ashes on her face. Warpaint.

    200 #WIP Words

  9. I had to be crazy or was I barking mad. If only a month ago, I had not seen fit to date Stuart who attacked me. I should’ve stayed with Richard. He attacked me and left to die. I thought I had recovered, until now. The cat lay at my feet, cleaned to the bones. It was clear I was turned, a werewolf, human no more. What other mischief had I caused in my changed state? Had I killed a human? I picked myself from the ground in the woods, naked as a jaybird; wondering where I would find clothes to cover me. I spotted a house way back in the woods and recognized it as Stuart’s. Stepping through the door and grabbing a coat, hanging on the back I stepped into the kitchen. On the floor I spotted Stuart bloodied, dead! I tried to drag his legs to pull him outside.

    “Want some help” my former boyfriend Richard exclaimed.

    “Aren’t you afraid?”

    “No, I killed him. I love you and we are together as one, werewolves both of us.”

    Things were looking up for me. I would live my new life not alone, but with Richard by my side.

    200 words

  10. Some of the dogs hid in their houses or under the porch. Some started barking when Jim stalked by their yards. They’d yip and yap, bold behind a fence or a thin piece of glass.

    They always sounded so angry.

    Sometimes, when he remembered his nights, Jim wondered if that’s where the phrase barking mad came from.

    All he had to do was snarl, give them that real raspy one that always made his throat itch the next day, and they would stop barking. That one little noise made them quiet and serene.

    He remembered a grey wolf followed him sometimes. Some nights he caught her scent. It was hard to remember things. They came like flashes, like lightning bugs in the dark of his mind. He hadn’t minded her there, padding softly behind him.

    Jim thought he shared his kills with her. A barely chewed haunch, maybe.
    She hadn’t followed him in a long time. He wondered where she was as he approached the fence around the barn.

    Something snapped under his foot. Her scent drifted up from the cracked bones. Jim let out an angry howl.

    188 words.

  11. He woke up with an image in his mind that disturbed him. To appease it he took a twilight walk in the forest behind his house, not sure what he was looking for but letting his instincts lead him.

    After about an hour he stopped and scrabbled in the ground at his feet. They weren’t buried deep. He stared at them; the bones had been striped of any flesh. He could make out a spine with a pelvis and what could have been a leg.

    The light was fading and he heard a low howl, then a bark. He saw the creature coming through the trees. It approached slowly, stopping just a couple of feet away. It could have been mistaken for a dog in this light, but its spine was too prominent; legs too gangling, and snout too long. It looked at him.

    He tossed the bones at it. “You’ve got to be barking mad if you think these were easily hidden; you’ve got to be more careful than this.”

    It nodded and shivered as it changed before his eyes, until his wife appeared, looking apologetic, and said, “Sorry, I was in a rush.”

    195 Words

  12. Title: Dog Watch

    “Looks like we found the Lupian,” Beva commented as she stepped further into the brush.

    The smell of decay had thankfully begun to taper off, aided by the lack of flesh on the bones at her feet, but werewolves still smelled bad no matter alive or dead. She preferred dead.

    Her partner Draiken grimaced and covered his nose from the stench.

    “Do you have the bag?” she asked impatiently.

    Draiken nodded and inched only as close as necessary to hand her the black bag. Beva shook her head and quickly went to work gathering the bones of the werewolf and placing them in the silver-lined bag to take back to their compound.

    “You make me so barking mad! You are the most squeamish vampire I know!” Beva complained, zipping up the bag and heaving it easily over her shoulder.

    “Barking mad? Really, Beva? Such language.” Draiken sniffed delicately. “No one has a better sense of smell then me which makes me more sensitive to offensive odors.”

    “Get over yourself, Draiken. If we’re ever going to completely rid this world of Lupians, you need to nut up and deal with your ‘sensitivity.’”

    Draiken huffed and followed Beva to their next assignment.

    200 Words

  13. Revenge
    By Jb Lacaden

    He emerged into the clearing and saw her body. Her fur glistened from the life’s blood that seeped out of her, her eyes were open and vacant and stared into nothingness. He fell down to his knees.

    To others she was just a normal wolf, but to him she was his life. He cried. He could still smell the scent of the murderer on her body. The scent was strong, unforgettable; he burned it into his mind. He cried. His human voice slowly turned into a wolf’s. His body convulsed. Nails turned into claws, teeth grew into fangs, eyes burned bloody red. He howled his pain into the moon.

    He stepped out of the woods, his naked body shivering from the cold. He walked past the skeletal animals on display and towards the cabin. He knocked. The door opened and out peered a spectacled man.

    “Holy shit,” he said, “who’re you? What’re you doing out there naked?”

    The scent belongs to glasses man, he thought.

    “Come inside,” the glasses man said, “you must be barking mad, boy.”

    He smiled and thanked him. He walked inside and felt his body convulsed. He closed the door behind him with a clawed hand.

  14. Alone in the woods with an angry werewolf was yet another situation Brandomaris had never intended to be in. Conall was bigger and meaner than the little Halfling anyway, and had always struck Brando as something of a bully. This time was different though, the human was out for blood and sure to be shifted.

    Gripping his gnarled staff tightly, the little man intoned a quick prayer to the goddess. A hundred miles from home, hunted by a merciless killer with a fuzzy duckling his only available friend.

    Brandomaris spun, staff raised to deflect the claws swiping for his back. Conall snarled, a slavering monster with shaggy grey battle worn fur.

    “Nowhere to run, little man! You’ll never get in my way again!”

    Digging his toes into the soft loam, Brandomaris felt the goddess in the earth. “If you think I’m the reason Sara doesn’t fancy you, you’re barking mad. This is your last warning; leave both of us alone!”

    Conall barked stridently, “Ha! Or what? You’ll shift? Ducks don’t scare me!”

    When the monster made the mistake of charging, Brando incinerated him with divine fire. Not all of the goddess’s gifts were as silly as Brandomaris’s lycanthropic form.

    199 words

  15. The Morning After
    by Lisa McCourt Hollar

    Ashamed, Elle uncurled herself from James. Sitting up, she took in the scene around her. They were by the railroad tracks, surrounded by weeds and overgrown grass.

    “Morning Sweetie.”

    “Are you barking mad? How can you wake up covered in blood and act like it’s perfectly normal?”

    James chuckled, reaching out to touch her arm. “Because it is darling.”

    Elle flinched, scooting away from him. “What the hell…” She had brought her hands down on the bones of some creature. The body was picked clean. James looked at it with interest.

    “Some kind of lizard. Ummm… you still have a bit between your teeth.”

    “Ewww, gross!” Elle scrubbed at her teeth. The thought of the reptile, more than likely in her stomach, made her gag. “I can’t keep going on like this.”

    “Let’s get our clothes. Then you can try to change the impossible.”

    Horrified, Elle moaned, “We left them in Mills Woods… on the other side of town.”

    “Yep. Let’s get going.”

    “We’re naked!”

    James grinned, “I stored some clothes at the old depot… just in case.”

    “You think of everything.”

    “I’ve been a werewolf longer, dear. You’ll get used to it.”

    “Never,” Elle vowed, stepping over last night’s dinner.

    Word Count: 200

  16. Rafe stuffed lunch back into the doggie bag. A carcass had turned up and he had to sniff out the culprit.

    At sixteen, after his first Moon-shift, Rafe had realized the city wasn’t safe for his kind. Then Fate threw him a bone with this park ranger gig. Now he was top dog at the Preserve. They had him on a short leash, but only because he could figure out trails that left the others barking up the wrong tree.

    That’s what brought him here to the Asylum.

    The bones were deer, picked clean, surrounded by trampled blood-stained grass, and tracks that were not quite canine. A scent wafted up: territorial, female and surprisingly Wolven, like himself. He knew there wasn’t a Wolven pack within a hundred miles.

    “Who found it?” He growled.

    “Patient. Barking mad though.” The orderly twirled his finger near his temple.



    “Take me.”

    Something teased at Rafe’s mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch; something he should remember. And then, there she was, like a proverbial doggie-in-the-window: matted hair, feral eyes and that rabid smile. It was her, the one who Changed him. Fear and desire met. How the hell had she found him?

    200 words

  17. Chow Hound

    I came to like I always did the morning after a full moon.

    Naked. Nauseas. Covered in cuts and scratches. My joints hurt and it was a fight to keep my head clear while wolf senses reverted to the oblivious state of humanity.

    It was always the same– the change, a night I couldn’t remember, and waking up near a pile of bones in the hollow I’d made my home away from home.

    I blinked and looked around for Emily. She should have been there.

    There was a rustling off to my left and there was just enough wolf in me to catch her scent.

    She stepped out from behind a bush and buttoned her jeans as she walked over to me.

    “Morning, sleepyhead,” she said.


    “You were quite the animal last night. Woof.”


    “How do you feel?”

    “A little sick to my stomach.”

    She reached into her pack and tossed me some overalls.

    “Not surprised. You had some bad Mexican last night. Straight. No chaser.”

    “Anyone I know?”

    “One of the Cholo brothers. Very bad man. The survivor’s barking mad.”

    “Barking mad,” I said. “That’s funny.”

    200 Words (excluding title)

  18. Duncan toes the remains. “Picked clean. We’re in real trouble, sheriff.”

    “Let’s not sound the alarm jus’ yet. Coulda been another animal.”

    Jabbing his thumb to the left, Duncan says, “Boys hit on Guther over there too. Don’t know any animal that builds a cookfire.”

    Ponces takes a long drag. “Best put the howl out, ranger. Ain’t nobody gonna be safe less if we catch him before dusk.”

    “Gunther’s brothers are already on the scent.”

    “Rest of the packs holding the perimeter?”

    “Yes. You ever seen one, sheriff?”

    “Once. When I was a pup. It ain’t sumthin’ you ever wanna see. Creature is barking mad. Beyond rehabilitation.”

    Duncan takes a swig from his canteen. “Shame to kill one of our own.”

    “Whether the human killed for food or under the misguided notion that eating a werewolf would turn him into one, he must be put down.”

    Shouldering his pack, Duncan says, “Still, it’s going to feel like killing Gunther all over again.”

    Lighting another smoke and following the ranger into the forest, Ponces says, “That’s why you ain’t gonna do it, boy. I’ll make the kill. You’re to keep your hands clean ‘til you’re alpha, you hear me?!”

    @bullishink / 198 words

  19. Madness is Fate
    words: 198

    I stretched my arms out, pain shot through them as I extended them over my head. I felt disoriented and cold. Very cold. I uncoiled my legs, I had them tucked under my body. The air around me felt frost bitten, seeping into my bones. Raising my head off the ground, I found myself lying in a shallow blanket of leaves, and I was naked. I granted myself a look around, I wasn’t alone.

    A rustling sound startled me. I turned to the sound and seen a deer two hundred yards away. The deer raised it’s head and met my eyes. I rubbed my forehead, no way could I have heard the animal from this distance.

    “Care for breakfast?” A voice whispered from behind.
    “How, how can I hear her?” I could tell from her stance she was a doe.
    “You survived your first full moon last night. You ran free, hunted, fed.”

    I stood there, watching to doe mow the meadow.

    The man placed his hand upon my shoulder and whispered, “You my dear, you were barking mad last night.”

    I turned to him and saw bones tore limb from limb lying around, I knew my fate.

  20. Men were talking in voices lowered to a whisper as women with ashen faces silently started to break down camp and prepare the covered wagons for our westward journey to a new home land. Not quite a man but beyond being a boy I am tasked to tie down the tarps for the traveling party using the tying hook to secure down the flaps. Everyone felt the uneasiness in the air save the children and the pretty old daft lady who rambles to herself.
    A sweet chilling thrill went through me as I overheard two leaders talking. They had discovered the bones I left behind. They couldn’t keep the screams of pain and barking mad howls heard in the night a secret but they will the bones. The men spoke of how unusually clean the bones were on the newly killed game. What spooked them most were the footprints. Prints of a human barefoot that transformed into what looked like a large paws similar to a large dog. When the men walked away I hopped down from the wagon and washed the mud from my bare feet in the stream wondering if the moon was full again tonight.

    198 words

  21. “Forensics on night shift. Could it possibly get worse?”

    I was locking up my things for the night – glasses, earrings, belt, underwear – when Dirk started whining.

    [i]Great. Stupid personnel office and their warped sense of humor. Making [b]me[/b] break in the rookies.[/i]

    “Worse? Yes. You could work forensics in daytime.”

    Dirk looked at me in stupefied amazement.

    “Day shift is a bunch of paper-pushers with status-quo lives,” I explained, and shoved back from my desk. Sans shoes and socks, but still in my lab coat. I eyed the clock.

    [i]Almost time.[/i] I felt the familiar tingle of skin pulling inwards, straining toward my alternate nature with the insistence of running water.

    “You’re barking mad.”

    I choked back a laugh. “How about you put Mr Bones away and I show you what night shift is like?”

    Dirk covered the partial skeleton we had inspected and turned off the lamps. By the time he looked again, I’d already erupted in black fur. The sliding adjustment of my limbs ripped through the lab coat, leaving Dirk in hysterics and the coat in shreds on the floor.

    I sat on my haunches and howled.

    [i]That’s for personnel. Buy me another lab coat, dammit.[/i]

    200 words

    (((PS Hope I got the italics notations right this time…)))

  22. “Have you gone BARKING mad?” Jef’s fat, red face contorted with drunken laughter.

    I rolled my eyes.

    “Wait–wait, I’ve got another one,” he said, gasping for air between guffaws and waving the gun wildly. “You send me over the moon. Get it? MOON!!”

    “Yeah, I get it,” I said.

    He lurched and pointed the silver-plated gun at my heart. “I don’t think you do,” he said, giggling. “You’re in deep doo-doo, doggie.”

    The moon tickled the horizon; I felt the change creeping into my toes. How much longer? Ten minutes? Five?

    “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “Let me go, and you’ll never see me again.”

    “That’d sort of miss the point, wouldn’t it, pup? Seeing as how I want your skin.” He belched. “Good money, that. Won’t be nothin’ but bones left to ya when I’m done.”

    My ears prickled—only moments remained. Our ragged breaths mingled in the air.

    And then: moonrise.

    I stretched and twisted, growling in wild, liberated pleasure. My former captor, however, howled in startled panic, my tiny scratch on his neck now buried in thick, grey fur.

    –Good money, eh?– I said, grinning broadly. –I’m likin’ this. Get it? LYCAN this.–

    200 words (my very first werewolf story!)

  23. “Whaddaya think, Jonesy?”

    “I think it smells better than your cooking, for one thing.”



    Circling the scene, I examined the body’s dismemberment pattern and pattern of teeth marks. A combination of human, animal, and carrion eaters, overlaid, gave us a rough idea of what happened since the deceased got deceased.

    Ever since people started going barking mad from Bath Salts, the half-breed and shambling undead communities had gotten a lot less shy about their antics, since they had a lot more mediagenic cover than usual.

    In any case, somebody’s Labradoodle had gotten torn open by a gator, and then a not-so-friendly neighborhood revenant had itself a snack before leaving leftovers for the raccoons and buzzards to pick over before the maggots finished it.

    I was less interested in the corpse than the footprints that curved away through the thick grass, away from the drainage ditch.

    “Stake and shotgun. There’s a stinker out there.”


  24. The clouds smothered the stars and the moon, casting the entire forest into darkness. The sounds of the howling and growling were distant, but I knew they were only playing games. I was helpless in the dark. I had to keep running.

    The wound in my back oozed with blood and the pain spread through my body. It felt like the teeth of one of them had broken off in my skin. In my mind, I could still see them surrounding me, barking mad with their teeth bared and their mouths foaming. Soon, they would catch up and it would be all over.

    The forest gave way to a clearing and I knew that this was where they wanted me. The bones of their many victims crunched and twisted under the weight of my feet. Soon, dozens of red eyes appeared around me and began to inch closer. I heard their breathing and their snarling and I began to mouth a prayer. The end was here.

    As the clouds passed and the moon came into view, my spine curved, fangs jutted through my gums, hair sprouted everywhere, and I knew I had them right where I wanted.

    197 words – @hlpauff

  25. I know it’s over, but I thought I’d post mine anyway. I just can’t get it done by 10est…Oh well, I thought I’d share my first attempt at dialect anyway…
    197 words

    “Well, now, yous just barking mad, ain’t ya?”

    “Of course I’m not mad! I’m telling the truth.”

    “Naw, yous jus’ confused, is all. Dem bones was prob’ly jus’ a natural dyin’ animal. That’s what they do, ya know?”

    “I swear, Grandpa, it was NOT natural. I’ll show you.”

    Naw, I don’ need t’ see nothin’. I been all over this mountain since I was a young’n. They ain’t nothin’ unnatural ‘bout nothing up here.”

    “But this wasn’t when you were young, this was recent. The bite marks went deep into the bone and the spine was completely severed—”

    “Ya done tol’ me alriddy! I ain’t deaf! But thinkin’ that they’s some monster roamin’ these parts just a’cause—”

    “Grandpa, I think we ought to call the police…or the Department of Wildlife.”

    “The DoW don’t got no need to come pokin’ they noses in our bidness.”

    “Grandpa! It’s not safe—”

    “Jus’ drop it, Sonny.”

    “But what if you—”

    “Don’ you worry none ‘bout me. I can take care a myself. Always have, always will. ‘Sides, I got a few things goin’ for me that no other beast got.”

    “What? 80 years?”

    “Naw, but that helps.”

  26. It’s late, but here’s my story:

    The mid-morning sun was too bright, washing out the colors in the meadow. Still, Cole thought, it wasn’t hot, and it had been a pleasant night for sleeping outdoors. Tony had never liked camping, but he had something to prove. Put a few pints into Tony, and he’d get wound up, pontificating as if he were the sole expert in some esoteric field. Last night was a wild one, as pubgoers were treated to Tony’s thoughts about what condition werewolves left bodies in after feeding. He rambled on about how messy it must be, how werewolves left gnawed-on, eviscerated corpses behind, like mindless, ravenous beasts. It was Cole’s laughter that pushed Tony over the edge into the bet. Cole was barking mad, Tony said, to sleep outdoors, but eventually his ego won, and the two had camped outside.

    It was too bad, Cole thought, that Tony would never hear him say “I told you so.” Looking over at the bones next to him, Cole reflected on how glad he was that he’d learned to smoke his prey for hours before eating them. The meat was much more succulent, the bones clean as a whistle, and Tony was really tender eating.

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