01.05.2016
The father had grabbed his shotgun from above the door and fired it into the air to wake his neighbors.
“The wolf has my boy! Here, hunters, here to me! Help me save my boy!”
His voice trailed off as doors rattled open and boots stomped over wood, gravel, and branches in pursuit. The father followed the light he could still make out, unsure of what burnt now. The light stopped its retreat and he slowed as he drew closer. He raised his gun and approached. He came upon part of the robe that had torn from the sleeve on a branch.
It burned itself down, and worked at lighting the dry branch that had snagged it. His gaze shifted from the flame to the crushed undergrowth that signaled where the wolf had dragged his boy.
He couldn’t see anything or hear any noises further along, but he stiffened his grip on the shotgun and followed along the crushed undergrowth. A few steps in and he heart a noise to his right. He fired into the dark and the last thing he could see from the muzzle flash was that he’d fired too far to the right.
The wolf, heavier than the day before, hit him in the chest and his cries were drowned by the crushing teeth and all he felt was fur enveloping him. Several other hunters had heart his shot and made for the sound, triangulating as best they could.
A few carried lanterns which helped greatly. They too eventually found the branch alight, and searched the area. Nothing besides the trampled ground, sprinkled with blood, to tell what had happened. The group fathered here and advanced further into the forest. But the wolf had as good as disappeared, for they could find no trail of him once the path reached the river again.
Uncertain and worried, they made their way back to the town, afraid for what these disappearances meant. Last night, two young boys, and this night a teen and his father. Morning light rose and burned off the steam from the fog that had settled before dawn. The outhouse sat, charred and still smoldering. And also rested the skulls and spines of the boy and his father, left in the middle of the cobblestone road and bloody paw prints.