Thirteenth Werewolf

Thirteenth Werewolf Two months ago, the conversation in my head went like this:

Me: Well, that’s great! I nailed down all of the main characters for my new book…except for one. Luke, where are you?


Luke: Here.


Me: Yikes! What?


Luke: Um, you called me. But I can fade back into your subconscious if you want me to….


Me: No…? No, no, no, no! Stay right where you’re at. Maybe…tell me a little about yourself.


Luke: ….


Me: Luke?


Luke: ….


Me: Darn it! Right back where I started. I just can’t figure this guy out.


Luke: You really want to know about me? There was this one day at Death Camp when my cousin…


Me: Death Camp? Cousin? Those aren’t in the book I’m writing.


Luke: ….


Me: Oops, I mean, yeah, that sounds great. Tell me more.


Luke:


“Welcome to Death Camp. You have a 42% chance of survival. Please take your orientation packet and head directly to your cabin.”


The kid stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights. Tattoos marbled his skin while a deflated army-surplus duffel bag hung over one shoulder. It took a second for Becca’s words to sink in. Then—predictably—he turned on his heel to flee the premises…and crashed chest first into me.


“Perhaps you could tone down the welcome,” I suggested to my cousin.


“Just saying it the way I see it, Luke.”


“Well, start seeing it differently.”


Despite our banter, my eyes never left the kid. I did, however, take a single step backwards so I could take in the entirety of his form.


He was early twenties, I guessed. Older than usual. And…. “Where’s Mommy?”



***


Intrigued? You can keep reading in my new anthology: Thirteenth Werewolf and Other Stories, which is free on Amazon today. It will be hitting other retailers at the end of November — I apologize for those of you who are being forced to wait.


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Published on September 01, 2019 05:31
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