The Monster Man of Horror House by Danny King

Author:Danny King
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780957115620
Publisher: Danny King Books
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5:

Opinion is divided

“Oh what, so you’re a fucking werewolf now, are you?” Tommy hawed, looking around my basement in pantomime amusement and snorting derisively. “What a load a’ bullshit!”

“I wish it were, kid, I really do. But Khan had it right and I have been carrying this curse for almost fifty years now,” I shrugged, blowing on the faded embers of my tobacco and supping on the flavours this released.

“What, so you like, change at night then, when there’s a full moon, an’ all that like?” Barry asked, his eyes so wide they should've dropped from his sockets by rights and rolled underneath the sofa to look up at me from the floor agog.

“Sometimes,” I told him. “Not often these days I’ll admit. It fades with age, but in the right conditions, when the moon is at its fullest and the blood is pumping, then yes I do become the beast.”

“Well I ain’t seen you about,” Farny reckoned.

“And just as well you haven’t,” I assured him. “I don’t leave this house when I transform, I lock myself in the basement and wait out the night ripping at the walls. I’ve built this prison well, to withstand a lot of abuse – and noise,” I reminded them, “because if I ever got out, God help all those that crossed my path.”

I let that one hang in the air, like the silvery grey plumes from my old shag, before nodding in the direction of the basement door and the fresh lacerations which it adorned.

“What, you did those when you were a werewolf?” Ginger said, his face a collage of horror and fascination. And acne.

I nodded, a stern, yet approving look of a man confirming a secret.

“Did he fuck!” Tommy countered. “He probably did them getting this sofa down here.”

“Those aren’t sofa leg scratches, sonny,” I reassured him. “Go and take a butcher’s if you like.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes contemptuously and refused to rise, as if by doing so would somehow admit his gullibility. But Barry and Ginger on the other hand had no such qualms and were over there in a flash, tracing their fingers along the parallel three foot long scars that ran the length of the reinforced steel plating and reporting back that they did indeed appear to have been made by something other than furniture (that said, Tommy had been right about one thing, my sofa had been a right vicious bastard to get down here).

“There’s only three scratches to this one,” Ginger observed, picking out a particularly long set of lines that ran from right to left.

“And there are only three fingers on this here hand,” I explained, holding up my right hand for them all to see.

Barry, Ginger and even Farny all gasped at the sight, but Tommy just rolled his eyes.

“Is that where Khan shot you in the gunfight?” Barry asked.

“It is. It never grew back, not even when I change. Khan had that much of me at least.”

“This is such bullshit!” Tommy squealed, unable to stand it any longer.

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