The Shadow and the Wolf
When my campfire died, the darkness rushed in to devour me like a starved hunter. Scrunching my knees to my chest, I defensively pressed my back against the trunk of a gnarled oak tree. I could no longer feel my feet. “Be brave,” I whispered in my mind. I hated the thumping heartbeat in my eardrums. I was being ridiculous. As if something could hear my thoughts. As if I was not alone.
My new teammates dared me to spend a night alone in the old woodland. They picked the eve of a new moon. My brother offered to stay with me. However, the team would suspect something if Chris skipped the evening soccer meetup. My brother proposed a plan. He would come back after soccer practice. I anticipated his white jersey bobbing between the trees around midnight. Chris would bring more snacks and firewood.
My dying phone said it was now three am. Chris had not responded to any texts since eleven. Where was my brother? Was this part of the soccer team’s joke? Maybe my sibling was in on the prank. Maybe they wanted to convince me the eerie woodland myths were true. Fill me with fear. Right before they jump out from behind a bush.
The town’s adjacent forest was overrun with tall tales of vanished hikers and grizzly ends. However, the wilderness was also packed with campers who recited these ancient rumors to each other. There was the shadow man who stood on the edge of campfires. It was said he could peer into your mind and whisper taunts to make you go mad. Cast illusions to warp your reality. He did not scare me. The shadow man was a children’s tale to keep kids from wandering off.
The tale I was trying to suppress from my thoughts was Ulfrang, the undead wolf. Ulfrang died centuries ago when humans first settled this valley. When his hunters started skinning him, the canine revived to rip out their throats. People said Ulfrang was larger than living wolves, and he grew every time he fed. Being dead for so long, moss grew in patches across his decomposing skin. Red mushrooms lined his exposed spine. Vines entwined his bones to replace disintegrated ligaments. These sinister woods wanted to keep Ulfrang around. Over many decades, the unexplainable was blamed on the undead terror. If a tourist glimpsed something stalking them on a moonlit hike, it was Ulfrang. If a bloody sock was found, Ulfrang had eaten someone.
A twig snapped. My muscles tensed. My attention returned to the surrounding dark woods of the present. My eyesight had eventually adjusted to the void. I could see the black contours of something moving between the trees. My breath quickened, but I told myself to relax. This was clearly my delayed brother bumbling through the underbrush.
The silent shadow weaved out of the trees and stopped on the other side of the extinguished campfire. I inhaled quietly. Even hunched over, the person was massive. They slunk on all fours. Not my brother. Not something a sane person would do at three am in the woods. Unless it was one of our teammates trying to frighten me? I exhaled.
The black silhouette meandered around the cold stone circle towards me. Dried leaves crackled under heavy steps. I stopped breathing. The forest breeze prickled my vulnerable skin. The stench of fetid carrion gagged me. Two large ears poked from the top of the dark creature. Not one of my teammates. Not a human.
“Run,” a mocking voice in my head suggested. The beast started sniffing. My nerves coiled tight. I held still. My tingling soles started waking up. A thousand needles pricked the flesh of my calves. Running was not an option yet. The snide voice laughed at me.
The wind shifted rustling my hair. The beast paused and rotated its ears. Rigid, I kept my post. The silhouette bent back its head to the night sky, and the stars outlined a massive canine maw. A shrieking howl bit deep into my brain. Ulfrang was here, and he found something.
My trembling body jerked me up-right onto my stinging feet. The hulking shadow contorted towards me. Reflective yellow pupils appraised me with a predator’s glee. I scrambled over my own numb toes. The wolf’s demonic growl ground down my courage as it drew near. His putrid breath slashed my senses to ribbons. My racing mind imagined his drooling necrotic fangs.
My feet finally got traction. I launched myself across the fire’s ashes and out of Ulfrang’s grasp. Behind my head I heard voracious chomps, but I made it to the exit path. Recklessly thrusting each foot over the other, I sprinted blind through the dark forest. Tree branches raked my face. Thorns sliced my cheeks. My toes knocked into a large root, and I was pitched into the underbrush that swallowed me whole. The last thing I remembered was the taste of earth.
When I woke up, I was laying on my back as the sun poked through the green canopy. My teammates surrounded me. They came to look for us when we did not return. “Us?” I asked. They said my brother came back for me. We looked for Chris around the campsite and retraced our nocturnal path. All we found was my brother’s bloodied jersey.