Arkansas' Artic Wolf

A young girl, her brother, and the neighborhood children venture into the thick woods of the natural state in search of an urban legend.

Winter had set in at last. A forty-seven-degree day in western Arkansas. Alright so maybe it wasn’t all that cold for December, but relative to the seventies we had been enjoying since early October it was a real cold snap.

Thomas was leading our ill begotten adventure into the woods at the end of our street. Dad was always on me about wondering near the woods; he said it wasn’t safe for children. But I saw him go there all the time, and he was just an overgrown child himself. Always rolling on the floor, beating me in tickle fights, popping around corners to shoot Jack with airsoft weapons. He was the fun parent, and mom was the strict one. She’d be irate if she knew I had let my older brother drag me out into the trees.

“Stop being such a cry baby!” Jack called over his shoulder to me. He was only three years older than me, barely into the second grade, but he always acted superior.

“Don’t be a birtch!” Tommy called from the front of the line. Sal chuckled behind him. She had a secrete crush on Tommy boy but she didn’t want him to know.

“It’s ‘b***h’ Tommy. Unless you’re calling her a tree.” James chimed in, the glasses he so despised to wear sliding down his face. He deserved to be bullied for being such a nerdy dork. But he read the bad words in the dictionary too, so we let him hang around; just for the educational value.

“You can’t go using those words around Jo! Mom will kill me if she starts repeating them.” Jack snapped.

“Shut up you p***y!” James shot back.

“I like being a p***y, it’s one of my favorite games!” I defended Jack in spite of myself. “Meow, meow.” I licked my make-believe paw and rubbed it against the side of my face to emphasize my point.

James exploded in a fit of laughter that shook the relative silence of the forest. Jack, Tommy, and Sal laughed too, but they didn’t seem to really understand the joke. I certainly didn’t, but I went ahead and dropped to all fours and pranced around meowing anyway.

“You shouldn’t play like that out here Jo,” James said after he took a moment to compose himself.

“Meow, meow!” I responded forcefully.

“Hey, it’s your funeral.” He said, a mischievous smile creeping onto his young lips.

“Meow, meow?” I waited for a response, which never came. “That means, ‘why not’ in p***y talk.” I explained. Spinning in a circle on my hands and knees; chasing my tail. “Murroow!” I leapt to my feet, springing up like our cat Simon had the time Jack hid a cucumber behind him. “Git it? Be-because I caught it! My. Own. TAIL!” I squealed and giggled at my creative ab lib.

“Sal, you get it right, Sal?” I asked, thinking a girl might understand. But it was all silent in the woods. My friends were no longer in front of me. Panic slowly gripped my stomach as I turned slowly in a circle. Rotating on my tiptoes, afraid to make a sound. Father’s constant warnings running through my mind.

“Stay away from the forest Jo. It’s not safe there; especially after dark.”

And it was very near to dark. Night sets early in the woods, a thick canopy of leaves blocking out the last rays of sunlight before the full set.

Suddenly I became aware of how much life there was in the silent trees. Secada’s singing their loud song, frogs croaking in the hidden marshes, wind causing the trees to sway and moan as if they themselves where coming to life.

And I was alone.

“Jack?!” No answer. “T-tommy boy?!”

“Sal?!” Desperation gripped me, “J-j-james!” The last one tore out of my throat, screamed into the abrupt night fall.

“Grahhh!” A voice called from the brush, simultaneously a nearby bush shook as if to free itself from the ground.

I let out a shriek, dropping to the ground with my knees tucked to my chin. Unwilling tears formed red streaks down my pale white face.

Cruel laughter rolled through the trees at my expense.

Two small hands fell on my shoulders. “It’s alright Jo, it’s just us.”

“Th-that w-w-was mean!” I stammered. Enough courage returning for me to raise my head and begin to uncurl my body.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to make you cry.” Tommy was in front of me.

“Cry baby, cry baby!” The others taunted behind him.

 

A howl split the night.

 

The taunting stopped immediately. No more comforting words from Thomas. My tears turned to wails.

“I told you there was a monster!” Tommy exclaimed; leaving me wrecked and sobbing on the ground. He seemed far too excited. This was his quest after all, to find the mythical wolfman.

“James scoffed, “Bullshit!”

Sal walked up and put a hand over my mouth. “Stop it! You’re being too loud!” I tried to stop, but it wasn’t working.

“There’s no such thing as a wolfman; it’s just a coyote.” No sooner had the words left James’ obnoxious, know-it-all mouth than we heard the high-pitched calls of a pack. Coyotes calling in the night.

“I don’t want to be eaten by coyotes either!” I managed to wrest Sal’s hand away for long enough to squeak out my fears.

Jack saw me shaking and, for once, took pity on me. “Coyotes are small, sissy. Like, puppy size. “He said reassuringly.

“Weally?” Sal’s hand muffled my voice.

“Yeah, really.” Tommy stepped in. “But the wolfman is huge. Twenty foot tall, claws the size of your mom’s kitchen knives, teeth like Sal’s big dog.” Sal’s Great Dane was huge.

‘There’s no such thing as a wolfman.” James chided again.

“I’ll prove it. We’re almost there.” Tommy turned sharply on his heel.

The boys automatically turned to follow him deeper into the woods. Sal hesitated, but after a moment she let me go and took out after them.

The only thing more terrifying then following my brother and his friends into a monster’s forest was being alone in it. So I took off stumbling behind them too. Chasing after Sal’s white shirt.

We moved like that for what felt like an eternity to me. The others laughing and joking. Me just barely keeping within talking distance My short legs were exhausted, my blue jeans tearing on briers, branches slapping into my face Night had officially fallen.

 

Another howl ripped into the darkness.

 

This howl was not like the coyotes’ call. It was deeper, louder, and worst of all, closer.

“Just a coyote.” Sal whispered through clenched teeth. My eyes were scrunched shut, refusing to open. As if the howler couldn’t see me if I didn’t see it.

“No.” Tommy was practically giddy with joy. “That’s the wolfman!”

I heard a rattle coming from the direction Tommy had been leading us. A metallic clanking, over and over. Like a chain that was being pulled taught, bouncing back, and then springing forwards again. I dared not to picture the nightmare that was straining against it.

The others were bickering; seemingly oblivious to the effervescent sound of our doom.

“Stop…” I said feebly, “Please just listen to me.” Nobody was paying any mind to my pleas. “I hear the monster!” My squeaky voice was raising with panic. Still nobody would listen.

“Cha-cha-clack!” The sound echoed out again and again. Just barely audible from where we were, and yet so terribly close.

“LISTEN TO ME!” I squealed, my desperation over-ridding my fear. My small high-pitched voice carried in the darkness.

The chain stopped moving. The coyotes raised their voices as if in response.

“What?!” Jack snapped at me. I could see that he was scared too.

“I heard something.” I whispered.

“What?” My fear was bleeding into my brother.

“A monster,” I pointed through Jack’s chest, to the pitch black in front of Tommy, “over there.”

“You’re a dumbass.” James’ jabs were losing ferocity, he wasn’t as confident as he was letting on. “That’s still the coyotes.”

No, they weren’t understanding.

“Or was it?” Tommy smiled, and began moving forwards yet again. The leaves rustling, dead branches cracking under his feet. The sound was loud and unnatural in the wilderness.

 

The howl was louder this time It sounded enraged, somehow human, yet most definitely not a man. The calls cut through everything in the absence of light.

 

“That’s on big coyote.” James tried to explain it away one last time.

“Owwwowwwwoooo!” Sweet slid around Tommy’s hands as he cupped them around his mouth. The moment of truth so close at hand, victory and strange pleasure filled his face.

We waited. One. Two. Three counts ticked by with Tommy’s call going unanswered. And then the loudest howl of all scarred the anticipated silence. Even James wouldn’t dare attribute the sound to a coyote.

“Clank!” The chain snapped taught, this too was noticeably louder than before. All but Thomas screamed and turned to run from the sound. Tommy just laughed. Hysterical, maniacal laughter; no fear showing in him.

“Clank,” again, “Crack!” The sound of splintering wood. The chain didn’t whip back as quickly this time. The beast in the dark charging out, straining against its mysterious bonds.

“Clank, SNAP, clack, clack, clack.” The chain gave way. My small legs were never going to make it. The ‘clack’ of the chain was quickly overtaking us. Tommy’s laughter echoed through the trees behind us. I wanted to scream for him to run, but I was too afraid to make a sound. So I just kept running. Sal was in front, her long legs giving her an edge. James was right beside me, a hand pushing against my back. My brother was nowhere in sight. Realizing this, I pushed aside my terror and called out to him.

James glanced over his shoulder, seeing nothing he gripped my arm, slowing us to a stop. “Sal! Sal! Hold up Sal!” He called in as loud a voice as he dared; just above a whisper. She didn’t listen, continuing her plunge through the brushy vegetation of the natural state.

The chain was no longer dragging behind us. Tommy had stopped laughing. I hadn’t noticed either of those details in the chaos of our retreat. It had turned eerily still all around. Even the saccades were holding their breath. James looked like a jungle child. Blood lines glistened in what little moonlight managed to filter through the trees. Created by branches whipping him in the face as we ran The only thing I could hear was Sal’s foolhardy charge. Jack was still missing. I had no idea what had become of Tommy. The child who refused to run from a monster.

“W-wolf-m-m-man?” I stammered. James shook his head disbelievingly. “J-Jack.”

“We,” James stopped to blink and shake his head, as if to clear it. “We have to keep moving. Jack is probably out of the woods already” We were both at a whisper.

Sal screamed. The sound of her run lurching to a halt. Sal’s scream stopped, abruptly, mid yell.

I lost all sense of anything that was happening. I was far to scared to scream so I cried instead. Sobbing uncontrollably as I latched my arms around James. He was shushing me, begging me to be silent, but there was nothing I could do to control it.

I felt him hugging my face to his chest. The worn cloth of his hoody swallowed my face, blocking my airways. His own fear had ahold of his body. He was just trying to hold me as I was holding him. Except that he was taller, and his arms were locked around my head. I squirmed in his grip; fighting his hold.

“Clack, clack, clack.” The slow slither of the chain once again protruded in the silent night.

Paralyzed by fear, my escape attempt fell limp. James still holding my face to his chest, my lungs screaming for air. It’s hard to describe ‘blacking out’ in the dark of the woods. My face was buried so as to keep me from seeing even the silver of the moonlit ground. My mind was going fuzzy, red splotches appearing in the blackness my eyes had grown accustomed too.

The chain creeped ever closer. “Chink, clink, chink.” It slid over a raised tree root. It was a slow, deliberate motion. Stalking.

I was gone. My brain no longer had enough oxygen to function. No fear resides in that place between the stages of consciousness. One minute I was suffocating, the next I was not.

Awareness returned to me eight feet or so from where I lost it. I was on my back; James was missing. James, my last shred of security, even if his panic had nearly killed me. I was far too terrified to move; had no idea which way to run even if I could have.

The chain was rustling in the brush to my right. Not really moving, just shaking; kind of. Accompanying the rustle, was a sickening crunching sound. Like the noise Sal’s dog used to make when her dad bought hambones for it. Except that these bones were breaking. I didn’t want to think about these bones, because as my consciousness slowly caught up with the surroundings, I began to feel the warm liquid on my face and hands. I dared to glance at my body and saw the moonlight glinting off of more crimson blood on my jacket and pant legs. I remembered the cuts on James’ face; how small those lines had been. Somebody was badly wounded. Uncertainty gripped my stomach. Somehow, I couldn’t tell if it was mine.

Laying there, weighing the terrible possibilities, I knew that there were only two options. It was mine. Or it was James’. The quick answer was to my right. With that my young mind made the terrible choice to look.

I saw the end of the chain. It was a thick chain, rusted but seemingly still strong. Sticks protruded from the links, leaves and dirt caked on from being drug across the ground. It would jerk every few seconds, accompanied by another crunch. The whole thing was both terrifying and fascinating. Suddenly, I could almost understand Tommy’s strange obsession. Some small messed up part of me wanted to move closer, see the face of the beast. A small piece that was growing exponentially with each passing second. For reasons that I could not possible have comprehended at the time, I felt the need to see this mythical monster.

I began to move. Slowly, every muscle fighting against me, I raised up from the ground. My legs shaking; leaves crunching under my weight as I stood. The Grim Reaper must have been calling my name that night because I took a step towards the bush. Then another. And another. The dead leaves crackling all the way.

The chain stopped moving. The bush shook as something brushed upwards against it. I could see a blurred outline in the moonlight. Raising out of the bush; taller than either of my parents; any adult I had ever known. Exactly what it was, I could not tell. Just a tall potato shaped blur. The most terrifying and terrific thing I had ever seen, because the blur was looking back at me. The beast’s eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Author's Note

I have been out of the community for awhile; but I've used that time to grow as a writer. Actually wrote this story at basic training, pen and paper of course. All reviews are welcome!