Author’s note:
This short story was written for Twisted Tournament’s May Flash/Micro competition. It had to feature a werewolf, contain a revenge storyline, and be told from the point of view of someone who wasn’t there. I also had to write it in 1k words or fewer. I don’t typically write werewolf stories, but I thought this one was fun! Let me know what you think in the comments!
- From the diary of James Spencer
January 23, 2026
I think Stanley’s going crazy. Like full-on schizo. He hasn’t been all there since touring Afghanistan, but this…
We had a falling out fight on Christmas. It started as a heated debate, and I admit, I said some dumb things, probably had too much eggnog, but then Stanley struck me. With his fist. We were all shocked, of course, but Stanley stared at the offending hand as though seeing a coiled viper. I’d never seen him look so pale or frightened. He gazed at me with watery eyes before practically running out of the house.
We haven’t spoken since. Then, yesterday, I got a letter from him. I don’t know what to make of it.
# # #
James,
Something has happened to me, or is happening, I don’t know. I thought I was imagining things, but after Christmas… I wanted to hurt you, James. You’re my only brother, and I wanted… Never mind that, it’s unimportant.
When I got back from Afghanistan, me and Tommy went out to celebrate at Burns Bar. There was this couple, and one of ‘em was this brown guy. I thought he was Spanish or Mexican at first. He had that skin tone, ya know? Then he says something to his girlfriend in Arabic, and I swear to God, James, I didn’t care. I saw lots of towel heads in Afghanistan, and never had a problem with any of ‘em. But Tommy, ya know? He gets drunk, and you know how he gets.
Anyway, Tommy tells the guy he’s gotta go, only the guy don’t wanna go. So, Tommy gets mad and cracks the guy on the nose. The cops show up, and all the usual stuff happens, only this time, it might be worse. Before I leave, the girlfriend comes back inside, says something in some strange language I never heard, and wipes her thumb across my forehead. I didn’t realize until I looked in a mirror that she’d used blood.
I thought she was just crazy, ya know? Went about my business as usual. But then, weird things start happening. Subtle. I start eating my steaks rare. I smell things sharper, and I shave twice as often. But the worst part, James, is this rage. My psychiatrist thinks it’s PTSD, but it don’t feel that way. Every little thing sets me off. Like I’m Bruce Banner, only there’s a different sort of beast beneath the skin, ya know?
And the moon. Ever notice how beautiful the moon is when it’s full? It frightens me, but at the same time, fills me with a sense of wonder and longing. Weird, right?
Anyway, next thing I know, I start waking up in random places. My clothes ripped, or sometimes I’m shirtless, and I don’t remember how I got there. Last time it happened, there was blood in my hair. It wasn’t mine, James.
I’m going to find the people who did this to me, and they’re going to give me some fucking answers. I’m sorry about Christmas, James. I love you, brother.
# # #
February 27, 2026
I think I found the people Stanley talked about. It took some digging, but I managed to dig up the police reports and the couple’s address with a little help from Google and my credit card. I’ve been out to their neighborhood a few times and watched them from the street. They seem nice enough. I’d like to talk to them, but what I need to ask them sounds fucking insane. After Stanley’s latest letter, I can’t help but feel like time is running out.
The full moon is in four days. If I don’t do something soon, Agh! This is fucking crazy! The only monsters in the world are the human ones, like Bundy and Epstein. But every time I look at the night sky, my mouth goes dry, and my palms get all clammy. I’m so fucking scared.
Stanley knows where they are, too. I need to warn them.
# # #
James,
I woke up this morning covered in blood. Again, not my own. I think – NO, I know, I killed someone last night. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my mouth, next to my right molar. There was an earring lodged in my gums. I rinsed myself off in a nearby stream and caught an Uber home. Driver said I looked like hell. I feel like it, James.
I know where they live. The couple. I’m gonna wait until the night of the full moon, and then I’m gonna break into their house. That bitch has a lot to answer for. Maybe she can remove this curse. If you don’t hear from me in two weeks, give everyone my love. Tell Mom I’m sorry.
# # #
March 4, 2026
I saw Stanley last night, but too late to help.
I shouldn’t have waited. I should have warned that couple, told them to run.
I pulled up to their house and found the door ajar. Against my better judgment, I swallowed the lump in my throat and went inside. There was blood and gore everywhere. I followed a trail of it to an upstairs bedroom. Stanley was in there, covered in coarse, brown fur, chewing on a human leg. There was a woman’s sneaker still attached. When I retched, he looked up, glaring at me with haunted, yellow eyes, and growled.
Warm liquid ran down my leg as he snarled and rushed me. I knew I was a dead man, but he only knocked me over before bounding away on all fours, whining like a kicked dog.
When I got home, I immediately jumped in the shower. I wanted to wash the stink of him off me. While I was planning what to do next, I noticed a deep cut in my shoulder. His claw must have gashed it when he knocked me over.