A Case of Werelupes

      I was never one to believe in destiny or the suspicious rambling of the denizens of the Haunted Woods. I never had the pleasure of meeting a creature of the dark or had I say the desire to meet such a beast. However, everything I study as I look back on that fateful night pointed to our meeting.

      It was a night like any other, which is to be expected in such a tale. I was finishing up at the clinic and the nurse maid had gone home for the evening. I remember exactly that I was setting down my stethoscope when the doorbell rang. I remember jumping with fright for no one came around at this hour to ask for aid. They knew perfectly well that the clinic was closed.

      So I waited to see if they would knock again. I'd pulled in a long days work: a Chia with Neogitus, a Quiggle with a bad case of Neomonia, and a Draik who had wrecked a wing in a boating accident, just to name a few. Needless to say I had no desire to help some poor fool out a bit too late, no matter my job description.

      Still the knocking continued, though. In fact, it seemed to grow more urgent and so I began to worry. I exited from the back room and peered out the window through the blinds. The sky had grow dark and cast a shadow across everything and I could only make out the silhouette of a pet standing before my door.

      The knocks came quick and desperate now. I heard the soft mumbling of a voice and I raced to get my lab coat and head mirror. Once ready, I returned to the door and threw it open. I was half expecting a pet bent over in pain. Luckily he didn't appear to have any external injures from what I could see with the light provided from my lab.

      Jonathan was a Lupe. His fur was a soft healthy blue, which looked to be very well groomed. His eyes were those of a curious child, bright green and sparkling with the energy of youth. Still, as I watched, they seemed to fade and grow tired and aged. His clothes were expensive and suited to him perfectly. I knew this because I had seen such expensive goods in the shops about town.

      "Please come in," I welcomed him with a sweep of my paw. He nodded his thanks and entered. His paws cupped and rolling in front of his chest.

      I asked him to take a seat on the medical bench, which he did. I fetched my stethoscope and immediately began a routine check up. He asked why I wasn't asking what was wrong and I told him it would all come in time. After I determined that his body was in no way injured, save for a small bite which was fading to a dull white against his skin, I asked him why he had come in. This is what he told me:

      "Well, Doc, you see I got a real problem. I'd tell my folks, but they don't have an ear for this type of thing. So I figured I'd come ask you."

      He breathed deeply and looked as if he'd been handed a death certificate.

      "See... last month or so, I was out walking like I usually do. I heard something in the brush and got freaked. Then I figured it was nothing serious and ignored it. On the way back it happened again, only this time I heard a growl or something too.

      "Mom and Dad don't like hearing about me running off or none, so I stood my ground. That's when something burst out of the bushes. It freaked me out and I threw up my paws to defend myself. I thought for sure it was the Shadow Usul or something come to snatch me away. Instead it bit me, not hard or nothing, but enough to leave a bad mark."

      I nodded and said I'd seen the mark. That it looked good and well on the way to leaving completely. He didn't seem satisfied with the answer, though, and I asked if there was anything more.

      "Well," he said. "I don't like talking about it cause it makes me sound like a real freak. It's just that I've been feeling weird ever since. That night it burned like I've never felt before. Then the next night I couldn't sleep at all. It's been getting worse. Now I sleep, but when I wake up, it's in real weird places. Like I'm dream walking or something."

      I wasn't sure what to say to that. I was positive it had nothing to do with the bite, though. Odd sleeping patterns could pop up at any time and a bite was never the reason. I figured a few good nights of straight sleep would do the trick and suggested sleeping pills.

      He seemed onboard from the get go and said he'd try anything to make the walking stop. I said I was positive it would and gave him a bottle. I then told him to not be afraid to find me in the daylight hours and he laughed. I was confident it would work and left that night feeling proud of myself.

      It didn't last, though. Three nights later, I was gathering up for the night and once again a knock came. I was unsure of who it might have been, because I truly believed I would never see Jonathan again. However, when I opened the door there he stood, black rings under his eyes.

      I ushered him in and closed and locked the door. I was feeling on edge all day and had yelled at the nurse maid for not properly labeling a set of tablets. It hadn't been a large problem and I felt terrible afterwards.

      Jonathan didn't sit this time but rather paced. His paws knitted together. I inspected him and he seemed much more unkempt. He was dirty and exhausted looking. His fur was a dark brown and at the time I didn't figure that into the equation. Now I think it could have saved me a world of work.

      "I'm not doing well, Doc. The pills don't work. I fall asleep, but I'm waking up in real weird places. Last night I woke up out in the woods. I was lost till the sun came up and I found my way home. I'm really starting to freak out, man. What if I'm some sort of lunatic?"

      I tried desperately to relax him and made us both a pot of tea. After serving the hot beverage and nestling into the crook of the couch, I waited for him to sit. He didn't, but rather paced about the room. He seemed preoccupied and I asked if there was something going on with his schooling. He simply shook his head.

      I began drilling for information, but the once lively Lupe had gone mute and wouldn't say a word. Finally, in frustration, I demanded that if he wanted my help, he would need to tell me what was wrong.

      He turned to me at this time, and for the first time that night, he truly looked me in the eyes. I drew in a sharp breath at the sight and nearly fell over the couch. For his eyes, once green, were now dark and red as if an ember lay in their depths. He growled and I heard the smashing of my good china against the tiled floor.

      The next thing that happened is hard for me to explain. As a doctor I've been trained to not think of things in this manner. Pets are not whisked away by beings from another planet. You can't read someone's mind by touching them. Most definitely, though, your patient doesn't turn into a beast right before your eyes.

      Still, I will try my best to describe what transpired that night. The next few minutes were terrifying and moved so quick I couldn't possibly keep track. I do remember the creature before me, though, in great detail. Jonathan dropped the fine china to the floor as he buckled over. His paws, from what I could see, were twisting in on themselves and becoming larger, longer, and sharper. He let out a howl of pain or fury, I couldn't tell. His fur became coarser and longer, the tint growing to a deep dark brown.

      He raised his head to stare at me and growled from deep in his gut. In the few seconds of watching he'd been transformed in both size and shape to at least twice my size. I felt the fur of my neck stand on end as he threw back his head and howled.

      I've read many books on transformations by now and have figured the only option was that he turned into some sort of were-beast, a Werelupe to be precise, although I'm still finding it difficult despite the fact it appeared before my very eyes.

      At this time my flight or fight response kicked in and I dashed my steaming mug of tea against his face. He howled and drew back for a moment, allowing me to get to my feet and brace myself. He let out a snarl and charged at me. His speed was too much and I was lifted from my feet and thrown against the opposite wall.

      With stars in my eyes, I tried desperately to regain my balance. Through my soupy vision, I saw the creature approach. I then felt the bite. It wasn't painful, but felt like someone was pouring hot honey down the side of my shoulder. I knew he'd take another if I let him and with my left paw I beat against the side of his head.

      The ears seemed to be a weakness and he screamed and drew back. I say scream now because the cry was something neither Lupe nor beast. It seemed to have two levels to its complexity and sent spyders racing across my back.

      I came to my senses and kicked the beast as hard as I could bear. It grunted and drew farther back from me, its large, rough paws slipping on the spilled tea and shards of porcelain. I drew my hands together and cracked him as hard as I could against the side of his head. The adrenaline in my system dragging everything into startling focus.

      To my surprise, the beast drew back in pain and fled, its great shaggy body smashing through the front window and leaving a cold gaping hole in its wake. I breathed heavily and stared after it. The window seemed as a large portal to another world, right in my own clinic.

      I gathered myself quickly and examined my bite wound. The beast had broken through the skin but drew no blood. I sterilized it and wrapped it in gauze. With that done, I cleaned the mess on the floor and drew the drapes across the broken window. It would have to do till morning.

      That night I didn't sleep, but stayed up waiting for the beast to return. I played the scene over and over in my head. I simply couldn't get my mind around it, what it could be. What was the scientific, perfectly natural, reason? My findings? There was none. The bite burned deep into my body and made relaxation nearly impossible.

      The next few days came and went in a blur. I didn't see Jonathan again and it made me wonder. I quickly brushed off the bite and the window by saying someone had thrown a rock through the window, that it had managed to hit me on the shoulder. Still I found I couldn't sleep properly and when I did it felt unsatisfying.

      The real nail in the coffin came when I awoke one night in tatters for bed clothes and out in the woods. I found my way home, but realized the trip would have taken at least an hour or two. Sleepwalking like that seemed a little farfetched. All the clues pointed to the same disease Jonathan had been suffering from. The problem remained that I had no idea what that disease was or how to fight it.

      That was how I came to the conclusion that finding the boy again was the only answer. I asked about town and was pointed to one of the richer homes in Neopia. Once there, I asked the parents, who said they hadn't seen the boy in a week, about the time I had last seen him. They begged for answers and I explained he'd been having some problems and had come to me. I said I was looking for him as well and if anything came up, I would tell them.

      The next step was one I had never wanted to make: to travel to the Haunted Woods and hope for answers there. I felt the change at night now more than ever and hoped I wouldn't turn into that which I was hunting. The trip was short and sweet and I arrived in the Haunted Woods in less than a day.

      My arrival was perfectly timed as the denizens were out and about as it was growing late. I asked around and found the information to be natural. No one here seemed the least bit surprised that I was asking about a boy who could turn into a beast. They pointed me to the woods and at first thought it a joke.

      Still, as I went forth, I soon found that there was a path nearly eaten away by the woods itself. I followed deep into the night and forced my eyes to stay open. I felt my fur changing slowly with the waxing of the moon and the once bright green was now dulling to dark brown.

      From up ahead I gathered a look. There were lights and the chanting of pets flowed to my ears and eased my racing heart. They were beautiful noises and drew me closer. As I pulled myself from the wood and stepped out into a clearing which looked freshly made, I took pause. Pets, Lupes would be more accurate, danced about in the bright full moon, their bodies large, furry, and dangerous looking.

      Before them stood a great mound of stone and a large wizened Lupe sat looking down at his citizens. Between them, I saw Jonathan, his fur like theirs, dancing and looking happier then I'd ever seen him.

      "Hold it!" the old one said. His eyes squinting down at me. All eyes turned.

      "Doc," Jonathan said as he stepped forward. "What're you doing here?"

      "I've been concerned," I explained. I told him of his parents' worry and of the incident at the clinic. He looked startled and amazed. He told me he didn't remember it at all.

      "Tell me, Jonathan, what is all this?"

      "Why, we're the Werelupe clan. Any Lupe turned into one can come here. It's safe and we learn to control our powers. I'll send Mom and Pop a note. Let them know I'm alright. You're looking a little odd, Doc, you alright?"

      I told him of the odd experiences and said I believe he might be the cause of my changing.

      "A Gelert turning into a Weregelert? I've never heard of such a thing," the old Lupe said, "though I can understand your concern. If you'd like, I can give you an elixir. It should take the edge off and keep you out of trouble."

      I thanked them graciously and was given the potion. They were also kind enough to give me bedding for the night. As I've found out, the potion works wonders and I'm feeling quite myself again.

      I still find it hard to believe that at one time I came face to face with a Werelupe, or that I almost turned into one myself. I'm still hard pressed to listen to ghost stories. Psychics and magic still confuse me to know end. Yet something's changed in my demeanor. Perhaps it's the urge for raw meat around the full moon, or howls I hear as I drowse in bed.

      Whatever the reason, it's still there and I refuse to forget or ignore that time in my life. I have much to thank Jonathan for and I wish him luck in his future. And should I ever forget that time, the little bottle will always be on my night stand. The chanting of the pets is still in my mind. And the white bite mark still rests in my shoulder.

The End