The Horror Zine's Book of Werewolf Stories by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

THE SON AND THE MOON

by Susie Moloney

Summer 1979

Amy kept dropping her shoes.

They walked barefoot, in deep concentration yet lost, swaying between buildings on campus, going from the well-lit fronts of buildings to the poorly lit alleys between them, sometime lit only by the window lights of students cramming before finals.

Kate and Amy had said fuck it earlier and went to the Caf, the local pub that gave a 10% discount if you showed a student card. They got a little hammered and the bartender, not the cute one but the other one, cut them off and said it was time to go home. He did it discreetly and everything, but it was still embarrassing until they got outside the pub and Kate pulled out a joint and they smoked it.

They decided to walk back to the dorms, and when Amy’s feet started to hurt she took off her shoes and they started giggling and they were so fucking high.

Just two building from theirs, where the end of the campus turned into a ravine, Kate stopped Amy, shoving her hand in front of her.

“Shhh,” she said.

They both listened.

“What?” Amy said.

Kate shook her head. “Can’t you hear that?”

This time Amy really listened, practically holding her breath. She became aware of how quiet it was, and wondered what time it was. It seemed so bright with the moon full and the sky cloudless. There wasn't even a breeze.

And then heard it.

A weak whine. Pitiful. The two girls looked at each other, their drunken, stoned, slack faces twisting into piteous looks.

“What is it?” Amy asked, because she had heard it first. It was her sound.

“It sounds like an animal,” Kate said.

They instinctively went silent again. And listened.

There it was again, stronger, or closer. The two girls stepped further in the direction of the whine, towards the ravine.

“Here, kitty kitty,” Kate said, sweetly.

The whine came again, and both girls turned to where they distinctly heard it. Amy pointed.

“It’s hurt,” Kate said. This touched both of them.

“Poor thing,” Amy said.

They dropped to a half-crouch and walked onto the dirt path that would take them down into the ravine.

It was dark.

Amy suddenly had a memory of that Ted Bundy guy from Colorado who had killed those girls—college students—and dumped their bodies

—oh wait, their heads he cut their heads off—

in the woods in Seattle. She stopped.

“I’m not going—”

And then the whine, again, more pitiable, more like a baby crying, heartbreaking.

Up ahead on the path, not very far in, limped a sweet dog, paw held up.

“It’s not a cat, it’s a dog. It’s hurt,” Kate said, her voice dripping with sympathy.

aaawooooo

Both women reacted. Kate took another couple of steps, Amy right behind her. Amy happened to look into the dog’s eyes: beautiful blue eyes. A well-groomed animal, a show dog. Amy looked just a little too long and the dog’s head tilted to the side as if to question her motives. Three things happened in sequence very fast, even though Amy saw each as a separate event. Kate said:

“It’s

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