Hell Hath No Fury like a... Lovesick Werewolf?

Beginning right where "Werewolves in their Youth" left off:

“Dammit, Josh, don’t do that anymore. You’re gonna break my neck one of these days,” Clancy managed, while stealthily trying to wriggle out of his friend’s muscular hold. Joshua Chen, Clancy’s massive friend, finally pulled his arm away, releasing Clancy.

            Clancy, free at last, looked up to find his three friends’ attention directed away from Clancy’s virtual victory to something or someone behind him. Clancy turned in his seat to barely catch a glimpse of Rochelle Williams as she slid past Clancy into the lap of the boy on Clancy’s right.

            “Owen,” she cooed, drawing out the last syllable excruciatingly, “tell me you’ve got something planned for tomorrow?” Owen’s charcoal eyes simmered with discomfort, and Clancy realized just how much Rochelle had caught Owen off guard.

            “Baby, you know I would have planned something if I’d been able to, but tomorrow’s… well, you know what happens on the full moon, baby.” Judging by the look on Rochelle’s face, Clancy would have bet a hundred dollars that she hadn’t remembered that tomorrow night was a full moon, but refusing to admit defeat, Rochelle carried on, “I know, Owen, I just hoped we could do something before you, well, you know…”

            “Sorry, baby, but I’m gonna be working in the morning tomorrow, then preparing all afternoon.” Rochelle’s eyes had somehow morphed into the perfect pouting puppy dog eyes, and so Owen took his last chance to save himself, “Tell you what, babe, how about we have our own Valentine’s Day, just the two of us, next Saturday. It will be the most romantic day of your life, and you won’t have to share it with the millions of other people celebrating Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” Rochelle’s face was glowing: Owen always knew just what to say to her.  

Valentines Day is the stupidest holiday ever. I mean, whose idea was it to force moronic candy hearts down all your friends' and family's throats, spend an entire day catering to some ditzy girl's needs, and waste a hundred dollars on dinner reservations for her? Clancy mentally complained, I'm glad that Elise broke up with me, because now I don't have to worry about idiotic shows of affection or inane "holidays" like this one.

Rabbit Season

The noise of glass hitting the ground sounded throughout the house like a gunshot. Maura’s eyes were ripped open in shock as she let out a horrifying

scream. The remains of the dead animal lay in a mangled heap on her porch. The animal’s throat had been ripped open, and its eyes clawed out. Red bloodstains soaked into the welcome mat, and although the creature had been ripped apart and mutilated beyond repair, the white cotton-ball tail lying off to the side gave it away as a rabbit. A dead rabbit. A dead rabbit that someone had left on her porch for her to discover. What kind of a sick, disgusting person would do such a horrible thing, She thought, and then leave it on my front porch almost like some cruel, sadistic message? She pondered over this last thought for a moment, until it became the first thing to sit right with her since the sight of the tortured rabbit; someone was trying to send her a message… or a warning. She turned to walk inside and call the police when she saw a flutter of paper stuck between two planks of wood, which helped make up the front porch. She reached down and snatched it up between two fingers. As she lifted it up to her face to read it, she realized just how clear the message was. Written messily with what looked like the rabbit’s blood, the slip of paper said: I Know What You Are. And You Know What Happens Next. Leave, You Piece Of Filth.  The paper slipped from her hand and caught the wind, flying away. She dropped the cracked handle of her broken teacup onto the ground just before she threw up all over it.

Happy Holidays

Linger

Misty stared up at the sky as the first firework went off--a giant red one that immediately was scattered across the dark indigo sky. The flashing red, white, and blue pinwheels lit up the night like enormous glitter bombs. Misty’s long black hair was swept over her shoulders as she turned to face Todd. Todd, the softhearted, well-mannered boy with chocolate brown eyes, who was her date tonight. He stared kindly into her eyes, warming her with his gentle gaze. The inviting scents of cocoa and cinnamon radiated from him. He reached his hand out to brush a stray hair off of her face. Where his hand touched, her skin tingled hungrily. His hand lingered on her left cheek, gently caressing her face.

Misty reached her hand around him and pulled him in closer. Their lips touched, and they helplessly melted into each other’s arms. The sounds of fireworks died in their ears, as they held tight to each other, almost as if they would evaporate if they let go. Time stopped as they kissed. Magic, love, bliss, whatever it was, lingered fervently in the summer air.

After what could have been either forever or a moment, Todd pulled away. The world fell into place around them. Misty opened her eyes, not realizing that they had been shut, just in time to see the last firework. It hung in the sky for a good minute, letting Misty capture every moment of the dream she was living.

Portal

Ryan meandered aimlessly down the dark, abandoned halls of the school. His watch beeped furiously, telling him what he already knew: it was midnight.

“Happy Friday the thirteenth,” He whispered sarcastically to himself. He looked down at the linoleum tile floor, the blue and white checkerboard pattern almost invisible without the fluorescent light that would usually be switched on during the day. He waited for Sean to come; he should have been here by now. He paced back and forth, wondering where his comrade was. They needed to do it tonight, when it was still Friday the Thirteenth—that was the day the portal was able to be opened, the day they could get rid of their problems forever. If they did this, they would be back on the team for good. He couldn’t do it if Sean didn’t come, though. Sean was the key; his blood alone could open the door to the long forgotten world.

Ryan jumped at a small muffled sound coming from down the hall. He had to remember that they weren’t the only ones who wanted to open the portal– the Gregori brothers needed this too.  If those three got through the portal, all of this would be lost, all of their work for nothing. It would all be over. So where was Sean? Ryan gathered up his courage and ambled down the deserted hall, silently praying for the best.

The muffled noises got louder, the farther he walked. As he reached the last door, he knew that whatever it was, or whoever it was, was inside the room. Ryan stuck his hand in his pocket and held on tight to his rosary, knowing that if this was what he thought it was, even God could not save him. He reluctantly kicked the door open, hoping his bravado would not leave him. A single chair stood in the middle of the room. Sean sat, tethered in the uncomfortable kindergarten chair, his mouth gagged. His eyes widened with worry, a look that Ryan recognized immediately, for he had given it many times himself. It said Run! That was when Ryan saw him, with broad shoulders and eyes black like night. His muscles pulsed on his arms. He was like a boulder, strong and unmovable. Ryan felt like he would faint just looking at him. Ryan knew that his life was forfeit now; nothing could save him or Sean, nothing from this world anyway. Their lives were at the mercy of Vincenzo Gregori.

Patty

In honor of Saint Patty’s Day which wasn't yesterday (but it was yesterday when I posted this on my original blog), I’m going to type up a lame story to do with the holiday. It follows a leprechaun, and it’s a bit fun and random:
Once upon a time there was a leprechaun, Patty. All year long he worked in the Pot’o’Gold factory, processing gold coins that would end up at the ends of rainbows. Every Saint Patrick’s Day he gave a bag of fresh gold coins to all of the leprechaun children in his small village north of Dublin. He wanted to be a magical unicorn, though. Every day, while Patty was pounding gold coins with the crest of the royal leprechaun family, magical unicorns were roaming freely in England, spreading joy and happiness to English youngsters. On Patty’s 265th birthday he got a letter from the factory’s head leprechaun. He had been promoted to senior leprechaun coin pounder; his pay would be doubled and he would have an extra two vacation days every century. Patty was so unhappy that he ran away to the magic forest, to live among the woodland faeries and the elves. He ran through the magic forest, carried by his short stubby leprechaun legs. While running on the forest trail, he came across a creature standing in the middle of the wooded path. It was a pixie.
“Hello, Patty.” She said jollily. How did she know his name? “I know everyone’s name, I am Santapixie, I give presents to little children every Christmas! It’s not Christmas today, but it is still a magical holiday, so I can grant you one wish. No strings attached, no loopholes, no unhappy endings!” She then took out her wand. The point was in the shape of a five-point star. Patty immediately knew what he was going to wish for. He closed his eyes and thought about his wish, like he was about to blow out the candles on his 264th birthday cake. Seconds later, he felt something funny on his head. He reached up to touch it, but his hands had turned to hooves. Pixiesanta squealed with glee. She held up a mirror to him and he saw himself. He was a magical unicorn! His horn sparkled with the reflection of the sun and his mane swept across his back, purple. His wish had come true! He would live happily ever after now! He looked up to thank the pixie, but she was gone, vanished. In her place was a first-class unicorn airline ticket to England! He silently said a prayer of thanks to Pixiesanta and made his way to the unicorn airport. Happily ever after would be a nice way to live for a change.