A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

It wasn’t a secret that Madilyn (Maddie to her friends) hated Nora Dessler.

Loathed her.

When asked why, Parkside High’s homecoming queen would never articulate a clear reason. Instead, she tossed out any and all insults about her classmate’s plain appearance (‘that cheap makeup and her stupid studded punk rock bracelets’), her low class background (‘the dirty skank lives in the trailer park across town with the other trash’), her secluded behaviour (‘the weird bitch sits in class away from everyone, scribbling on her notebook’), or anything else that she could foster. Hell, her whole family was weird, according to what Maddie had heard, anyway.

None of these were the real reason. Openly, she knew the truth was petty. It wasn’t due to anything she’d claim—it was because Nora didn’t worship or envy Maddie Court in the same way others at Parkside did. Nora paid no attention to her, and that was unacceptable. Maddie came from money (if her car wasn’t evidence enough) that came from her father’s chain of menswear stores passed down from grandpa, she was a beauty that needed no digital airbrushing in her photos, and she was popular (especially with the boys)—that was status.

What reason could a loser outcast from Haywood Circle have to ignore her? That earned status trickled down to her friends, too. In the passenger seat rested walking stereotype Bailey Hall, the blonde haired cheerleader captain born, like Maddie, to an equally privileged and vapid lifestyle, though her money came from her mother’s divorce of her stockbroker father (took him for everything). In the back seats, alternating between conversation and fevered, sloppy facial assault via tongue, were the self-proclaimed smoothest and toughest, in truth cockiest player (and wide receiver) for the Parkside Pumas, J’Aaron Cassidy, and his diminutive social media darling girlfriend with 100K views on her last creatively devoid, lip synced dance video, Kyana Jaimes. ‘Someone…roll down…a window,’ J’Aaron managed between grunting slurps. During a silent pause between thumping songs on the radio, there was the tiny, suspicious metallic crinkle of a zipper, and in the rear view, Maddie realized the source when she watched the position of Kyana’s tiny hand on her boyfriend. ‘Or turn off the heat, at least…’

‘It’s cold as shit outside!’ Maddie seethed. ‘Not all of us are hot and bothered like you two. And if you whip your dick out in my car, J’Aaron, your big ox ass is hitting the pavement, you get me?’

‘It ain’t me!’ he said, grinning slyly as he slid his hand over his fade hairstyle with tribal signs cut into it. ‘I can’t help… my girl wants what she wants…’

‘Kyana!’ Bailey hissed in feigned shock. The petite girl ceased probing her boyfriend’s mouth for a moment.

‘...Yeah, yeah.’ ‘We’re not out for a drive for you two to fuck around—we’ve got something to take care of.’ Maddie’s thoughts returned to their captive, and she wondered if any of the heat from the interior made it into the trunk. She hoped not. Out of spite for the poor girl—and only out of spite—Maddie turned the heat off, to her own discomfort. She slowed to a stop at the intersection of Mann and Wisher and there was another noise over both the music and fevered make out session.

While their special guest had been quiet for a time, muffled whimpers soon drifted into the car’s interior. Here and there, words could be understood: an assortment of the usual pleas like ‘Let me out!’ to ‘Please stop!’ In response, J’Aaron demanded louder tunes as Nora’s cries ruined his hard on, which Maddie happily obliged as she turned down Hawthorne. Yes, Maddie Court had all she could ask for, surely, but she was no fool—she knew that it wasn’t an absolute truth that her friends (if they could be called that) loved her…or even liked her, if she were honest with herself. The two in the back were only there for a new place to screw around and Bailey was simply another braindead follower who’d swallow a live grenade if it were a popular trend.

But there was respect—the same thing she would teach that little bitch crying for freedom back there. If she couldn’t worship or envy Maddie, then there was one thing that she could do: she could fear her. She would. More thuds and cries from the trunk unheard by the clique, and Maddie’s foot turned to lead, the engine roaring in response. If the speed increase didn’t scare Nora, then what Maddie had planned would. As she had grown more and more incensed, Maddie Court started thinking of how to get back at Nora for her perceived audacity—a goddess had to make the lesser mortals bow, after all. Recent and strange goings on in Parkside had given the homecoming queen an idea in this regard. There had been a series of mutilations around Deep River Woods at the town’s edge, near Old Highway 49 that led to the nearby Green Oaks. Animal mutilations, apparently—mainly cattle and local pets—and it seemed like each month, there was a new report. Last month, there was a local college boy, Isaiah Parsons, brutally maimed. It was all over the news—he only survived long enough to provide a brief statement that, whatever it was, it was large, like a bear or a wolf… certainly not that old nursery rhyme Leanne, her cousin in Green Oaks, used to prattle about growing up. Everyone in the community was afraid—you couldn’t patent that kind of fear, but a clever youth could certainly wield it. And who better to capitalize on that fear than Parkside High’s most popular denizen? Nora Dessler seemed a mousy type, incapable of self-defence or any form of overt resistance—why not strip the poor girl of all of her clothes and belongings and leave her in the middle of the forest with whatever animal was loose one night? How about Friday the 16th, roughly the one month anniversary of the last attack?

That would scare the shit out of the little bitch. Teach her some respect. But they wouldn’t go too far; just dump her and drive a bit down the road. Let her stew for a while and understand that she was there because of Maddie, and that her negligence deserved punishment. It didn’t take much convincing for the others to join. The quartet discussed the plan’s basic outline and all agreed that the best place to get Nora was at her workplace—E. E.’s Diner off of Walton (Kyana had seen her waitressing, but had never dared to enter a place so beneath her mercurial and, as she would claim, classy tastes). The workers had to park in an adjacent lot because of recent construction to repair assorted cracks and uneven asphalt. It was fairly secluded, away from observers. Maddie and her friends waited until that evening when Nora clocked out and made it to her car—a beat up Lincoln with a slight oil leak and patches of peeled paint—and rushed her.

Before J’Aaron could get his broad hooks over her mouth, Nora cried about needing to get home before dark. She would be out tonight, all right—stranded, naked, alone, and afraid with whatever had attacked Isaiah Parsons.

Killed Isaiah Parsons.

But they wouldn’t let anything like that happen. They’d just scare her.

No, no, this would be a hellish night for Nora, but a fun one for Maddie and her cohorts.

A night to remember.

Bailey reached to the console and turned down the newest pop song. ‘So, what’s the plan after the strip and dip?’

‘Yeah, we need to go over that part again—we don’t have to hang around there, do we?’

‘Nice to hear you make a sound other than sucking,’ Maddie replied sarcastically at Kyana’s questioning. ‘We leave her, like I said. We’ll go back to the edge of the woods and hang out, wait. Maybe consider giving her her clothes and the like back. Maybe.’

‘What if whatever killed that guy last month… what if ?’

‘Shit, you ladies got me,’ J’Aaron confirmed, thrusting his chest out. ‘I’ll fuck up any bear or whatever is out there if it comes our way.’

‘I didn’t mean us, J’Aaron… I meant…’ Bailey gestured toward the back of the car. ‘I mean, I don’t like her, either, but I don’t know about-’

‘Psh, forget that bitch!’ J’Aaron slapped his hand onto the seat.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Maddie affirmed, squinting from the glint of the celestial orb above. The clouds had dissipated and Earth’s lunar satellite seemed to blaze, full and round.

‘I know, but Maddie-’

‘I said she’ll be fine!’ The driver looked over with a sneer. ‘What, Bailey? Are you taking that fucking freak’s side now?’

‘No,’ Bailey said. ‘No, let’s… let’s do it.’ The interior was whitewashed, each of the teenager’s faces appearing as the solemn pallor of pallbearers from the light enveloping them. ‘Good.’ As Maddie reached for the volume, she and the others noticed a new and more peculiar sound—something like a low whine that, as seconds passed, grew increasingly grating in pitch. ‘What the hell is that? Turn the music up!’ The manicured nails gripped the dial and turned as she noticed the sign, shining from the headlights: Deep River Woods, ½ Mile. As the music began to drown out the whine, there was a thump that shook the Porsche, followed quickly by another, more violent, each one hitting from opposite sides, causing the car to sway erratically. Maddie’s loose hand joined the other and gripped the steering wheel before she commanded Bailey to turn the radio off.

‘Christ, Maddie—can’t you drive?’ the cheerleader yelped as she fumbled with the radio’s controls, having to brace herself.

The couple behind them, attempting again to express lust at J’Aaron’s behest, knocked heads from the motions. ‘Fuckin’ women!’ he shouted.

‘That’s not me!’

Another series of thumps followed by repeated slams from the back of the car, and then a powerful heave that shifted the vehicle’s movements. The metal frame of the car groaned as it dented and sparks exploded from the undercarriage in a spray of twinkling yellow, as though the trunk were filled beyond capacity with a spontaneously manifested bull elephant. The powerful slams bounced J’Aaron and Kyana around despite their seatbelts as the car lurched and sent Bailey’s head against the passenger window while the driver tried to maintain control. Though nearly impossible to tell in the chaos, it seemed, from the frequency and locations of the impacts on the car and its resulting movements, that something was hitting it from the outside. Finally, a telling gunshot of rubber from the destroyed rear tyres caused Maddie to spin the steering wheel in a frantic attempt at overcorrection. The Porsche jack knifed, spinning into the air amidst screams and shattering glass, and finally slammed into the deep drainage ditch. The airbag engaged and smashed into Maddie’s perfect facial structure, bringing with it an almost welcome darkness. It was deathly quiet for a long time in the aftermath. Nothing was audible except for the chirping crickets and bellowing frogs and the hiss of the crushed engine, but Maddie regained herself eventually. She was still in the car, right side up, dazed, her face numb (the same numbness extending down her body and to her legs), and she looked around to survey the damage. Next to her, face bruised, scratched, sticky with blood, was Bailey, her eyes rolled back like pale eggs, her head hanging lazily above a new mouth in her throat holding a six inch shard of broken windshield. ‘Oh… Oh God…’ Maddie’s eyes ran hot with tears as she struggled to turn and look behind, hearing noises from the back seat. The formerly kissing couple was alive, but battered and shaken—Kyana’s formerly heavily made up face was covered in purple splotches and small crimson lines while J’Aaron had a swollen goose egg above his right faded eyebrow. Maddie was equally thankful and frightened that there wasn’t an intact mirror nearby where she could see herself—she prayed it wasn’t too bad. None of them were as bad off as Bailey… ‘Wha—what the fuck h-happened?’

‘God… dumb bitch can’t drive,’ J’Aaron hissed, clinging to his misogyny as he slowly observed around him. ‘Car’s totalled.’

‘That wasn’t her… something out there…’ Kyana muttered, starting with discomfort to turn her head toward the trunk before she noticed the back of Bailey’s slumped head. ‘…B-Bailey, are you okay?’

After sucking back her tears, Maddie started thrashing around. The numbness in her legs was leaving, and in its place was a sharp throbbing—at least she wasn’t paralyzed. ‘We… we need to get outta here… get me outta here! Dad’s gonna kill me…’ she moaned.

‘B-Bailey?’ Kyana reached forward, nudging her friend’s head, which slumped aside and landed against the dash. She knew then. ‘Oh… oh…’

‘Calm down!’

‘We need to get outta here, J’Aaron!’ Not deterred by any momentary loss or the football player’s commands, Maddie was adamant about their current situation, especially in regard to herself. With effort, she tugged at her seatbelt. ‘I… I can’t… get it off…’

Having taken inspiration from Maddie, J’Aaron had resumed tampering with his own seatbelt before determining the issue. ‘Damn, mine’s broken.’

‘What about Nora?’ Shockingly, one of the three remaining teens remembered and expressed concern for their captive. Kyana looked at J’Aaron, who turned his gaze to the rear window. ‘She’s still in there… I think…’ The trunk was still closed. ‘What about her? ’ Maddie shouted. ‘Fuck her! We need to worry about-’

A familiar sound interrupted the homecoming queen. Each teenager paused and listened, and in the nighttime quiet was that whine—the same whine barely obscured by the music earlier breached the stillness, and it grew into an animalistic howl.

‘...Oh my God…’

Thudding footfalls moved outside the passenger’s side of the car, stopping right next to Kyana’s door. ‘Shit!’ There was a grind of metal as the door groaned and exploded, ripped from its hinges, and a large mass of black clutched over Kyana’s screaming visage, quieting her before a crackle and a rip sounded. The mass jerked away swiftly as a cloud of blood sprayed all over the seat and J’Aaron.

Kyana’s face—or what remained—appeared a crimson skull, something that might be held aloft by an actor reciting poetry in some form of Shakespearean horror. The flesh had been ripped away from the muscle like tissue paper along with half of her jaw, the broken remnant dangling by threads of sinew as her writhing tongue spurted and gurgled in agony as though reliving its motions when French kissing her lover—her eyes, unlike Bailey’s, stared ahead, empty and bloodshot.

In unadulterated panic, J’Aaron burst out of his seatbelt and kicked the door loose while Maddie struggled with her own seatbelt, finally using all of her waning power to rip the buckle free and pull herself out of her broken driver’s window before tumbling to the ground. Upon impact, she realized the source of the consistent throbbing: what looked like the femur of her right leg was protruding from the flesh, an ivory finger beckoning from the oozing wound. Her leg’s position under the steering wheel had concealed the broken bone’s presence.

Fighting back tears, Maddie pushed herself up with effort out of the ditch onto the road and quickly dropped back to the asphalt, unable to stand. She held out a pleading hand to J’Aaron, who was moving down the quiet road. His wide eyes darted around for what killed his girlfriend and his mind raced as he momentarily thought of a replacement if he got out of this alive. The teenage boy looked back at Maddie and realized that his safety was of the utmost importance.

‘Sorry!’ he shouted before turning to run, and Maddie, through her anger at his betrayal, saw the dark shape of something moving along the edge of the road toward the fleeing teen. It ran on all fours, breaking into a sprint as it tore across the ground. Observing its terrible speed, Maddie used the mental acuity that shaped her 1.9 GPA to determine then that not only was this the thing plaguing Deep River, but was also the cause of her accident.

It's running alongside my Porsche, slamming into it… Oh… Oh God… what is that thing? J’Aaron Cassidy couldn’t outrun or hope to evade his pursuer, with the creature clocking much quicker than a puma (Parkside or otherwise) and able to predetermine his juking movements. The beast lunged and grabbed him and viciously went to work. A ruby spray glinted in the light and something large flew into the air toward Maddie, landing on the ground, bouncing and rolling to a stop just shy of her ruined leg.

The mania of Maddie’s mind briefly convinced her that she was at a football game like all those months before—the stench of wet grass, the coating of anxious, husky sweat and the echoes of a jeering roar—and J’Aaron had just been sacked by another player, fumbling the ball. But when she ascertained that the pigskin had a goatee, a fade, and a frozen dim expression, she returned to her senses, stifling the urge to vomit. Gasping for breath, Maddie watched as the shape tore into J’Aaron’s remains, crunching bone and ripping flesh, hoping that maybe whatever it was would have its fill on the big son of a bitch. However, she didn’t notice how loudly she was crying and knew that the feast had ceased when the shape dropped its scraps and moved toward her. She attempted to drag herself backward, unable to take her gaze from the thing as it approached, but once in the full illumination of the moonlight, Maddie froze in spellbound terror.

Without the shade of the trees, Maddie could absorb the image of the murderer: it was tall—roughly seven feet—with a broad chest, lanky arms and hands tipped with twinkling blades; its legs were bent backward like a canine’s hock joints with what appeared to be a tail, a bushel of hair dangling from behind; its head was that of a snarling wolf, its mouth dripping thick, syrupy blood and its eyes were burning cinders with an otherworldly glow like that of the moon.

She couldn’t believe it: a fucking werewolf in Parkside? This couldn’t be real, this beast stalking Deep River Woods, and it was right here in front of her. The thing moved closer, its footfalls crunching across the asphalt of the calm road as its eyes never left hers. Maddie resumed moving backward, losing her balance as her arms found no foundation and she slumped on her back into the ditch, barely catching herself; pushing back up, she noticed the wolf tilting its head to keep her in sight. It appeared to enjoy stalking her—to enjoy her clumsiness—knowing she was easy prey, and its glinting teeth seemed to form a grin.

Maddie’s mind pleaded as her mouth spewed frightful whimpers… like Nora, she thought with disgust at the irony. Hopefully, she was dead in the trunk. Once she saw the monster’s arms spread and its hind feet brace into the frosty ground at the road’s edge, Maddie closed her eyes in terrible anticipation. She would be with her cohorts soon enough…

Salvation came, however, when audible bangs sounded from the wreckage of the Porsche, drawing the attention of both Maddie and the gigantic animal. Its ears straightened and it stopped snarling, grunting curiously. The confused homecoming queen watched the wreck as it rattled and bounced like a volatile percolator. In moments, the pink trunk lid erupted upward and off, the curved metal discarded like a severed ear, sending a bright stream of sparks from contact with the road.

‘...N-Nora?’ the teenager winced.

A hulking form slowly emerged from the wreck, stretching its arms high as if awakening from a deep slumber. Long claws drifted down and clenched on the Porsche’s bumper as it gingerly lifted itself out. It was another beast, slightly larger than the other, with the same gaze of feral rage.

One werewolf… two werewolves… Nora’s a werewolf… of course she is. Were Nora. No, you’re not insane, Maddie… just mad… mad, mad Maddie…

The prime werewolf observed Nora clambering onto the road, sniffing the air, and grunted when Nora growled. It seemed the two creatures respected each other, or were at least acquainted somehow. Though she briefly considered that this new beast had simply gotten into the trunk and consumed Nora (as stupid as that was), what Maddie saw confirmed what she knew already and a maddened cackle lurched from her throat: those stupid studded punk rock bracelets wrapped around its wrists, barely containing the robust, hairy masses. You… have got to be fucking kidding, Maddie mused defeatedly. If this one is Nora… then who’s the other one? Nora moved forward, the other creature granting her a wide berth, and she looked at Maddie with knowing; beyond her now animalistic form, she appeared to recognize Maddie—after all, who in Parkside didn’t know her? The look wasn’t one of adoration, though, or even anger.

It was one of hunger. Lunacy finally engulfed Parkside’s homecoming queen. She knew Nora was a freak, and this was why—she was a fucking monster! She hoped maybe Nora would eat her backwater family after this… if there were still room. The little trailer trash wallflower had an ace up her sleeve for anyone who thought they were clever enough to mess with her, and who better to be that fucking idiot than Parkside’s most popular denizen? And that was when it struck her. Maddie Court could take solace in one fact: she might still get worshipped—maybe even at a new level than that to which she was accustomed—even though she wouldn’t be around for it. Pariahs were pretty high on the social ladder, of course. Sure, her luck had run out, and she wouldn’t get to experience the totality of her reign as homecoming queen, and Nora—
As the other werewolf snarled in approval, Nora’s claws lunged outward and dug deep into Maddie’s ankles, yanking her closer with ravenous intent. The beast opened her dripping maw and clenched down upon the spoiled teen’s twitching right foot.

Leg’s fucked… guess we’ll have to amputate, she thought wildly.

God, Nora had gotten the better of Maddie Court, but she couldn’t take that little victory away.

A pariah.

Yeah, that was good enough, she decided, and her vision faded as she heard the wet crackling of her kneecap being consumed, the pointed teeth sawing her flesh before moving up her thigh.

At dawn, Jim Dessler realized that not only was Bobby missing from the cellar, but so was his sister, Nora, and his stomach sank. He’d half expected Bobby to not be there; he’d become quite the little escape artist since the curse had manifested in him (it was certainly unpredictable), and it seemed the extra chains hadn’t sufficed at all. Jim felt they were required after last month. That poor Parsons boy… They still hadn’t worked, much to his chagrin, but Nora’s absence was of a greater concern. She hadn’t escaped like her brother—she’d never come home before nightfall, from the appearance of her shackles. They were unmoved and untouched, unlike the broken links belonging to Bobby.

She’s a good kid, Jim had thought. Christ, she knows better! She’s the responsible one!

…Was.

Jim was hesitant when she said she wanted to work at the diner but he trusted her, as long as they kept track of the lunar cycle… as long as she made sure she came home early on the night of a full moon. Just once every twenty eight days or so… that was it. Jim and his wife, Yvonne, had long learned to maintain control of their faculties when changed (a method he had learned from his father, who learned from his and so on, and taught to Yvonne after she was turned). It was something that took work, concentration, and as Yvonne would say, a certain spirituality. She liked to put her spins on things. But the kids—well, it had proved difficult, hence the need for the cellar that Jim had to build under the trailer. It’s hard enough to keep a rein on normal kids, much less ones with their particular affliction.

He didn’t have to drive far to find his children—they were about a mile away from Haywood Circle, cautiously walking out of drivers’ view around the treeline. When he retrieved them both, they were nude and bloodied; a typical father would’ve been concerned for his son and daughter, but his concern drifted elsewhere.

He knew the blood wasn’t theirs. When they made it back home and the kids were cleaned up and dressed, the questioning began. Jim didn’t necessarily need to know Bobby’s end, though the youth did claim that he remembered not seeing Nora after chaining himself before he turned—maybe pack instincts kicked in. It was admirable… even sweet.

As for Nora, Jim already knew how this would go if Bobby’s track record and, admittedly, his own during the first years of his curse, were anything to go by. He just hoped it wouldn’t lead to the Desslers having to move yet again. Parkside had its charms despite its minimal faults, and Bobby’s killing last month had prompted serious consideration of a change of scenery. Nora remembered clocking out of work before dusk to go home, but she didn’t make it to her car—she said she remembered being grabbed and shoved into the trunk of another car… a pink one. As for the kidnappers, she wasn’t sure, though there was a subtle hint in her eyes that maybe she did… Jim wasn’t certain. After the kidnapping, though, she claimed everything was fuzzy. Jim could hazard a guess, but, of course, between being in the trunk of a pink car and walking home with Bobby, Nora had forgotten about everything that happened last night.

As her father would learn later when he watched the Channel 8 Local News and listened to the rumours on the job at Powell Auto, it was a night that the Parkside community and beyond would never forget.