updated never moon a werewolf Chapter 4 and 5

                                                                                                      Chapter four  “The Beast”

                                         

Meanwhile in another town, in another house, someone else has a new visitor inside their home. This visitor is getting very comfortable and making herself at home even though she was not welcomed inside this home warmly. She was not invited in, as she never is invited in anywhere she goes. But that never stops her. Few people have seen this particular visitor up close and lived to tell about it. Those that have seen this visitor would describe her as a tall woman, with long black hair and yellow eyes. Who is always wearing a mans brown rain coat with torn jeans on underneath. This visitor never stays long enough to tell others her name. Many people would say the visiter doesn't even have a name. Because when people ask who she is, she never answers them. She tells them about the horrible things she plans to do to them. But never her name. If this visitor did have a name it would be “The Beast”. As  she often calls herself that when no one is around but herself to talk to.

********
"Damn stupid news!" I said to myself while flipping threw the channels on the old TV. Why can’t they just play something good? Shows like Fear Factor. The only show in the world were they shove people in water full of cow blood and watch them scream. Shows like that makes me proud that I live in America. Not this cramp on now. I don’t care what else is going on in the world. How does an earthquake in New Jersey affect me? Clearly the man who used to lived here was too damn cheep to pay for any good tv stations. So right now the news was the only channel that was coming in on this crappy old tv. Every other channel I tried was static.  
You cheap bastard! Would it have killed you to pay more for a few other channels? I ask the man who lives here . (I use the term lived loosely.)
What were you saving your money for anyway? A better lock for your front door? A lot of good that did you. I laugh. The man who lived here or rather used to live here says nothing. I know he wont answer me, but I prefer to talk to the dead rather then the living anyway. The dead don't talk back. The only one I really like to talk to is myself. The dead know that, I make sure they know that. That’s how they become dead in the first place.  

As I search the house for food, I leave the tv on to hear in the background. I was hoping something better would come on later after the news. I find cheep beer in the refrigerator but no food.
“Would it have killed you to go shopping before I got here?” I ask the former owner of the house. I laugh to myself again when I say that. I guess I already did. I said opening the beer.

“In other news a foster child has gone missing! He was last seen at the SPCA and he goes by the name of Trooper.” Blared the TV news reporter man in a bland and dull voice.

“Like I care!” I snorted going threw a box of junk looking for anything useful. There are half a million kids in this world, why should the world stop to look when one goes missing? I turn to look at the screen to see if the news reporter even looks concerned, they usually don’t. The whole world could be ending and the news reporter would still have a stupid straight face on. I hate that. If I ever run into a news reporter their face will be the first thing I go for. This reporter does look kind of sad, but not that sad. A picture of the foster child shows up on screen. The picture stops me. It looks like... . No it can’t be. But it must be, look at those eyes. Even on a crappy TV, I still recognize those eyes. One blue one green. The odds of seeing another child with those those eyes is a million to one.
“Anyone with information on his whereabouts should contact the police, right away.” the news reporter said. His voice is still dull and bland, but now I care about what he’s saying.
I rip the TV off the wall and bring it right to my face for a closer look. Just to make sure what I’m seeing is right. That I’m not just seeing things that aren't there. Maybe that cheep beer is just causing me to hallucinate. Ripping the tv out didn’t help me one bit, because I ended up pulling so hard the cable came out off the wall. So I only got a good look at the picture for a split second. But a split second was all I needed anyway to see it was him. Yes it’s him. No question about it.
I throw the TV against the wall in disgust. Glass shatters and sparks fly out of the tv like fireflies. The TV hisses and wheezes almost like a person that knows it's dying and is gasping for it’s last breath. Slowly the dead tv makes one final hissing noise and the light in what is left on the screen dime’s to black. Watching the screen go black is almost like watching the life fade from a real person as the grows silent against the wall. But killing a tv is not as satisfying as killing a person. Especially not the person I want’d to kill on the tv, and I don’t mean that dull reporter.
No matter, it’s not like the resident of this house will be watching anymore TV anyway.

I sit down in the chair and rubbed my head. “He's alive.”  I always knew their could be a chance. After all I never did find his body in the woods, all those years ago. What has it been? Nine , ten, eleven years sense I last saw that brat. I always just if he did somehow get out of the woods, the chances of him surviving on his own would be no more than a few days. This mean’s he's been alive all this time, for eleven years? I bite my lip until it bleeds. The taste of fresh blood in my mouth ( even my own) help settle my anger. More then destroying the tv did.
But I know shouldn't have broken the tv so soon. I should have kept listening to see what els they knew about him. I wonder how much he even knows about himself?  I was young and stupid back then, but how I could have been that stupid? I growl and bight my lip harder. I should have made sure I finished him off when I had the chance. I should have kept looking for him, but he ran much faster then I was counting on for such a small child. I was to young and impatient to keep looking for him back then.

But that’s when I realized this wasn't really a bad thing after all. I had, after all, always been disappointed I never got to really give the dear boy a proper ending to his miserable little existence of a life. A life that was never supposed to exists in the first place. This would be so much more fun.
After all he was only three when I last laid eyes on him. A three year old boy is no real challenge to kill anyway. Killing a tv was harder then killing a three year old. Which was part of the reason when he got away from me I didn't feel it was really worth looking all over the woods for him. At the time I figured knowing he was slowly starving to death alone in the woods would be satisfying enough for me.  But I didn’t realize just how much I would regret it years later. But I was to young and impatient to keep looking for him back then. Now however… I'm more than happy to wait. As I’ve grown I’ve learned that good things come to those who lie in wait. I smile to myself. Not to mention now he is a teenager. He must by now know what he can do. Of course it wont help him when he tangles with me now. But it will still be a lot more fun to tear up a teenager then a small child. I had been planning to stay the night at this cheap bastard's house. But now I'm to excited to sleep.
Before I leave, I look over at what is left of the former owner of this house lying on the floor.
“Better keep your doors locked you little omega” I muttered under my breath as I walk out of the house. The guy who used to live here already learned that the hard way. I said has a close the door behind me.


                                                               Chapter five
                                                              A Deadly Dream

When I open my eyes again I see lots of flowers in a big field. 'My first thought was "Am I in heaven?" Did the wolves get me?  No ...wait this can’t be heaven.  Heaven has clouds in it, or at least it’s supposed to.  According to the tv show’s I've  watched. That’s when I realized I've seen this very field of flowers before. Oh man, I know this dream to.  You don’t usually realize when your dreaming but I’ve had this particular dream many times before. So many times I always knew when I was in it. And I also knew what was going to happen next.  I try to wake up by pinching myself and biting my lip but nothing works. Once I'm in the dream there's nothing I can do to get out of it. Nothing but wait for it to end. I try to think of something els, to see if I could get my mind off what was going to happen next. I start to think of  everything that had happened to night leading up to this nightmare and wonder if it all had been a part of this  dream as well. Maybe everything I’d seen, the Mr. Guard pointing a gun at me, the wolves, being in the woods had all been one big dream. So does this mean I never let the dogs out? So maybe I’m not really fired from the SPCA, so I can still go to the staff picnic were having on Sunday? Which would be so great because there’s always lots of  great barbecue their. But all  thoughts leave my mind when I see her standing there in front of me. I don't know exactly who she is, I never do in this dream, not for sure.  But  what I do know is I’ve seen her many times before and she always sends a chill down my spine when I look at her.  
 
I cant move! I want to, but I just can. I cant even stop staring up at her. I'm to afraid to look away.  But I'm even more afraid of what will happen if I do.


I make up my mind that when she tries to come closer to me I’m going to run faster then I've ever run in my whole life. But she doesn't move, she just looks down at me.  We both just stand there , both waiting for the other one to move first. But neither one of us do. We stand there staring at each other for what seems like forever. Were both like status, frozen in place. But finely I cant take it anymore. If I keep looking into those crazy eyes of her’s, I’ know i’m going to die of fear. I need to take a chance. No matter how hopeless it might be, I have to try. So I turn around and bolt for it into the woods.

But I know running is pointless, because I've had this dream before. I’ve had this dream  many, many, many times before and I already know how it will end. No matter how fast I run, she’ will always be right behind me.  I can never outrun her. It's like trying to outrun a train, and you can never out run a train.  Not unless you are that fat kid from “Stand by me” in that Stephen King movie. But this is scarier then anything I've ever seen in  Stephen King.  I know this is all just a dream. I know I'll wake up at some point. I know you can't really die in your dreams no matter what they say in a Freddy Krueger movie. Even though I know it's just a dream, it all feels so real. But the fact I've had this dream before, so many times before, just make it all the more terrifying. I have got to get away, I have got to get away, I tell myself over and over again. I don’t want to think about what she will do to me if she catches me. I have no idea what she wants to do, but I know it will be bad.

She never does tell me what she is going to do if she catches me. She never tell’s me anything. She doesn’t even say anything to me, but she doesn't have to. I can just tell it will be bad. Just by looking at her face alone. If a picture is worth a thousand words then a face like her's is worth a million. She's getting closer and closer to me now. I can feel her hot breath right by my neck as I keep running. It’s almost as if she is ready to sink her teeth in my neck. Then suddenly my legs go out from under me and I fall down. I never know if she tripped me or I just fell. But it doesn't matter now. Not for me anyway, because either way, it's to late to get up. Before I can do anything she’s on me, then everything goes black as if the world as disappeared .
******

I wake up with a jolt,  and try to catch my breath. God I hate that dream. I have that same dream once a month but once in a lifetime is enough for me. After I catch my breath and my heart slows down  I look around the room. I realize I’m not in my bed at the orphanage, or even a foster home. I'm not even in a bed. I'm lying on the dirt floor in a house I don't even recognize. But that's not the only thing I realize. I also realize I'm not alone.