The Werewolf of Fever Swamp

14

Wolf uttered another menacing growl, baring his jagged teeth. The fur on his back stood up stiffly. His legs tensed as if preparing to attack.

The sound of crackling twigs made me raise my eyes. I saw a gray figure darting behind tall weeds on the other side of the bog.

"Who — who's that?" Will whispered.

I stared straight ahead, unable to speak.

"Is that — " Will started.

"Yes," I managed to choke out. "It's him. The swamp hermit." I dropped quickly to my knees, hoping to keep out of view.

But had he already seen us?

Had he been there at the other side of the bog all along?

Will must have been sharing my thoughts. "Has that weirdo been spying on us?" he demanded, huddling beside me.

Wolf uttered a quiet growl, still frozen in place, ready to attack.

Keeping low, I scooted closer to the dog. For protection, I guess.

I watched the strange man as he made his way through the weeds. His long, gray-white hair was wild, standing straight out around his face. He kept glancing behind him as he walked, as if making sure he wasn't being followed.

He carried a brown sack over one shoulder.

He turned his gaze in our direction. I dropped down lower, trying to hide behind Wolf, my heart pounding.

Wolf hadn't moved, but he was silent now. His ears were still pulled back, his lips still open in a soundless snarl.

What were those dark stains on the front of the swamp hermit's grimy shirt?

Bloodstains?

A shiver of fear ran down my back.

Wolf stared straight ahead without blinking, without moving a muscle.

The swamp hermit disappeared behind the tall weeds. We couldn't see him, but we could still hear his footsteps crunching over dead leaves and fallen twigs.

I glanced over at Wolf. The big dog shook himself, as if shaking the swamp hermit from his mind. His tail wagged slowly. His body relaxed. He uttered soft whimpers, as if telling me how scared he had been.

"It's okay, boy," I said quietly, and rubbed the soft fur on top of the dog's head. He stopped whimpering and licked at my wrist.

"That guy is creepy!" Will exclaimed, climbing slowly to his feet.

"He even scared the dog," I said, petting Wolf some more. "What do you think he had in the sack?"

"Probably someone's head!" Will said, his dark eyes wide with horror.

I laughed. But I stopped when I saw that Will wasn't joking. "Everyone says he's harmless," I said.

"He had blood all over the front of his shirt," Will said with a shudder. He scratched his short, dark hair nervously.

The sunlight faded quickly as clouds rolled over the sun. Long shadows crept over the bog. The stick Will had thrown had disappeared, sucked into the thick, murky water.

"Let's get home," I suggested.

"Yeah. Okay," Will agreed quickly.

I called to Wolf, who was exploring in the tall weeds. Then we turned and started to make our way back along the twisting dirt path.

A soft breeze fluttered the trees, making the palm leaves scrape and clatter. Tall ferns shivered in the wind. The shadows grew deeper and darker.

I could hear Wolf behind us. I could hear his body brushing through low shrubs and weeds.

We were nearly to where the trees ended and the flat grass leading to our back yards began. We were nearly out of the swamp when Will stopped suddenly.

I saw his mouth drop open in horror.

I turned to follow his gaze.

Then I uttered a shocked cry and covered my eyes to shut out the gruesome sight.