Hunter's Moon

"Whew, this is intense!" Michelle exclaimed. "But you're right - in a weird way, this is fun."

"Told ya," Gina shot back.

They walked on, waiting for their next scare. They were alone now; some of the crowd had moved on, while others had left the field of battle with tails between their legs. The rasp of Leatherface's chainsaw faded in the distance. It was darker back here, and MIchelle shuddered involuntarily.

As they approached a pool of blue and red light, they heard a rustling in the bushes. Twigs snapped and branches crackled.

A huge, shaggy shape hove into view just off the path. Michelle screamed and recoiled in shock.

"Jeez!" she exclaimed. "Ohmigosh, you weren't kidding - what an awesome costume!"

The werewolf was hideous - and he looked so real. Shaggy, thickly muscled, and at least eight feet tall, just like in the movie. The face was terrifying; wolfish, snarling, with glowing yellow eyes and gleaming fangs. There was realistic stage blood all over his muzzle and chest, dripping from his grinning jaws and spattering on the ground. He gazed at them appraisingly with his blazing eyes before fading back into the woods.

"Ohmigod, did you get a load of his wanger?" Gina asked in awe. "It was a foot and a half long if it was an inch. I don't remember that from last year. Yay for anatomically correct!"

Michelle flushed crimson.

"Leave it to you to notice that, Gina. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Speaking of nice wangers," Gina whispered, "I think that 'Young Dracula' up ahead is Steve Hayden."

"Gina, will you stop?" Michelle cried. "Too much information. Didn't need you to share that."

But Gina was already on the prowl, walking seductively toward the "Count."

"Uh, okay, I'm just going to go on ahead here," Michelle called out, surpressing a grin. "Fine. I'll muddle through on my own."

"I'll catch up to you, babe," Gina returned as her arms encirlced Dracula's neck in an embrace.

Michelle shook her head in bemusement. She strolled along, lost in thought. Gina was right. It was fun to kick back. Would it really kill her to take it easy now and then? Nobody was putting any pressure on her to perform, not her mom or dad - nobody; she was driving herself.

She had grown so accustomed to the spooky sounds coming over the speakers planted throughout the forest that it took her a moment to notice that the world had gone deathly quiet. In a lot of ways, this was even scarier than the howls and screams. She also realized that she had wandered into the corn maze. She swallowed hard. It was really dark back here, even with the light of the full moon overhead.

Suddenly it wasn't as much fun anymore.

She tried to retrace her steps, but it was hopeless. The corn stalks that surrounded her were much taller than she was, and there were so many paths and blind alleys.

Then she heard a rustling ahead of her to her left.

"Thank God!" she breathed. At least there was someone else in the maze with her. Maybe they knew the way out.

She came around the corner and felt her foot snag on something. There was a high-pitched twang, and all hell broke loose.

Strobes and black lights flashed, and there was a deafening roar, like a tiger, and then a blood-chilling wolf howl. Michelle screamed in gut-wrenching terror as the lights spookily illuminated the horrifying corn maze werewolf.

"J-Jesus!" she gasped, shocked as much by what she had just said as by the terrifying sight. She noticed a realistic stage prop, a bloody body, lying in the straw behind the wolf prop. It was dressed in the tattered scraps of a furry costume, with a hideous werewolf mask attached to the slashed head.

Then her stomach churned with sick horror as she realized the mangled body was real. She recognized the torn face - Charlie Tuttle, the dorky volunteer fireman who always made passes at OLH girls when they walked past the engine house.

Michelle Eriksen went to her knees and threw up in the straw.

When her eyes finally quit streaming, she noticed that a huge, ominous shadow loomed over her from behind, blocking out the full moon.

She slowly turned her head around and gasped.

It was the werewolf she had seen earlier - and it was...

"Ohmigod!" she cried. "You're real! You're REEEAAALLLAARRRRGGGHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

Long, razor sharp talons slashed down, slicing her face and breasts and viciously ripping open her face and the front of her body. Michelle screamed mindlessly at the searing agony. The creature snarled and cuffed her with the back of a huge paw. She rolled across the ground and came to a stop lying face up. She felt herself tumbling down a long dark tunnel, and as consciousness fled, she was barely aware of claws peeling her clothes from her body...

...Sometime later, Michelle opened her eyes, gasping in agony at the searing pain she felt down the front of her body. As she tried to clear her head, she realized she was on her back, staring up at the full moon and being dragged across the ground.

But...that was impossible; the thing would have...killed her by now.

Michelle desperately willed her eyes to focus. She could see the werewolf's muscled back as he strode along hazily in front of her. His huge, taloned paw easily encircled both of her slender ankles, and he dragged her along like a dead animal. She glanced down at herself and sobbed.

She was naked and shivering; blood welled up thickly from the deep grooves that had been clawed into her ruined breasts and belly. Blood was in her eyes, too, from her slashed face. Her vision was blurred, as if she was looking at everything through a pane of glass with vaseline smeared all over it. Her head flopped weakly to one side, and she stifled a sob of terror.

The creature was dragging Charlie Tuttle's mangled corpse in his other hand, bumping it along over the rough ground. Charlie's throat had been torn out.

Then his head banged violently on a large rock; it separated from his shoulders and rolled away behind them, taking the awful werewolf mask with it.

Michelle tried to throw up again, but there was nothing left in her stomach.

She faded in and out of consciousness, and only gradually became aware that they had stopped moving and she was lying on the ground at the base of a tree. She weakly raised her head. The werewolf had moved off a distance, dragging Charlie's headless corpse behind him.

'Oh, God, was he leaving?'

Whimpering in terror, Michelle rolled over on her belly. Her legs were still trembling too much to let her walk, so she started frantically crawling through the dirt and leaves.

But her freedom was short lived.

The werewolf was returning; she could hear his heavy paws thudding over the soft ground. Michelle heard a low, menacing growl; then she screamed as she was grabbed by the hair and lifted off the ground. She kicked and shrieked as she dangled in the monster's grasp until he slammed her face down on a large, flat boulder.

Stunned by the impact, she was only vaguely aware that he was spreading her legs. When she realized what he was doing, her eyes snapped open. She could feel his rock-hard penis probing her tight, puckered asshole.

"Oh, G-God no - Mommy!"

Her scream shattered the night as the werewolf plunged in and out of her, ripping her torn anus to shreds.

Michelle passed out, finally and mercifully, as his scalding semen spurted deep inside her bowels...

*****

Gina Carrera threw her head back and bit her lower lip to stifle her scream of climax. Her stomach clenched as Steve Hayden emptied himself into her, lifting her into the air with his last urgent thrusts. he pulled out sprayed her cunt lips and thick black patch of pubic hair with his cum, then plunged back inside her. She collapsed on top of him and thrust her tongue halfway down his throat, still aroused beyond sense. They kissed savagely for several long seconds until their ardor slowly cooled. Gina snuggled against him with a dreamy smile, enjoying the sensation of her naked flesh pressed against his.

"Mmmmm...leave it in," she murmured. "Feels good."

He sighed.

"Sorry -I gotta get back to work, honey. This shed isn't supposed to be locked. If somebody comes poking around, it could be embarrassing."

He gently rolled her off him onto their makeshift bed of hay bales, and Gina moaned in protest.

"Eat my cunt and fuck my face - please! It won't take long."

He smiled. They shifted around into the "69" position, each facing the other's genitals. Steve licked expertly, burying his face in her dripping cunt, teasing her clit and driving her crazy, and, between muffled screams of ecstasy, Gina sucked him off.

Finally her body shuddered in a wrenching climax, and seconds later, he came all over her face and hair. She swallowed the last few blasts of his jism; then she used his softening cock to massage his cum into her beautiful face.

They dressed quickly, and Steve embraced her and kissed her as she squeezed into her red gown.

"I get off in two hours," he said.

"I thought you got off a few minutes ago," Gina whispered, pouting. "Anyway, I'll take you up on that. I'm ready for some more hot vampire love."

He opened the door a crack and peered outside, and then straightened.

"Coast is clear. Let's go.'

They slipped outside, and it was noticeably cooler. Gina shivered.

"Damn!" she said. "I had a red cape with this costume, but I left it at home."

Steve gallantly removed his own cape and put it around her shoulders.

"At least I have long sleeves," he said.

"Why, thank you, sweetie!" she said. "I have to find Shelley. Let her know there's been a change of plans. I'll be back in a few."

"Maybe she's getting laid in the corn maze," he said with a wicked grin. "It's been known to happen."

Gina chuckled.

"Somehow, I doubt it."

She squeezed his hand and headed off down the path toward the maze.

* * *

Michelle Eriksen sobbed quietly, lying in the open meadow, shivering and bleeding. She was on her back with her legs spread agonizingly wide apart, her torn, bleeding cunt steaming in the chill night air. She could feel her mind trying to retreat to a place of safety, to block out the obscenity of what had just happened to her. He had clawed her back open to the bone as he sodomized her; the keening howl he had loosed as he pumped his seed into her still rang in her ears.

Then he flipped her over on her back and started again, brutally tearing into her tight virgin pussy this time, until he shot another huge load into her.

She could hear the beast growling and grunting a little ways off. She painfully got up on her hands and knees and twisted her head to glance over her shoulder.

She stifled a scream of horror.

The werewolf was eating Charlie Tuttle. The full moon illuminated the bloody tableau all too graphically.

And she would be next.

Somehow Michelle found the strength to scramble quietly to her feet. It was a long shot, but maybe she could get away while the thing was busy with his prey. She slipped away as stealthily as she could. About a quarter mile beyond Little Turtle Creek, she could see the lights of the Haunted Farm. As she crept closer to the stream, she could hear the familiar strains of "Monster Mash" blaring over the loudspeakers. So near and yet so far...

A blood-chilling howl suddenly cleaved the air; she could hear thrashing in the underbrush. He was after her! Then she heard a snarl from above. The werewolf perched on a low limb of a tree, the mangled torso of Charlie Tuttle clutched in one huge paw. Michelle screamed mindlessly and staggered away, terrified, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. A low-hanging tree branch whipped her face as she lurched forward. The werewolf dropped his bloody prey as he leaped to the ground and loped after her on all fours.

It wasn't much of a chase.

He caught her a few dozen yards away at Little Turtle Creek. Her piercing screams filled the night as the beast savagely mauled her naked body, and then plunged his long fangs into her neck under her chin.

With a savage toss of his massive head, the monster tore out her throat in an explosion of blood and mangled flesh.

The last thing Michelle thought was how upset Gina would be that she had disappeared on her once again. The last thing she saw, as red faded to black, was the face of an unholy beast with her torn jugular clenched in his jaws like a gory scarlet rope...

The werewolf let the mutilated, lifeless body of pretty Michelle Eriksen drop into the stream by a fallen tree, and she floated face up in the bone-chilling water.

He threw back his shaggy head and howled. Then, as the strains of "Time Warp" from "Rocky Horror Picture Show" drifted out across the meadow, he hunkered down in the stream to feed on his kill, and her blood dyed the clear water of Little Turtle Creek the color of claret wine...

*****

Simone Delacambre jammed on the brakes of her rented BMW.

'Here.'

Not the usual place. Something was guiding her tonight, as if the Hunter's Moon had heightened her senses. Somehow she knew where she had to go. She ran faster than she could ever remember running, but her heart sank as she sprinted across the meadow. She should have heard him by now; it was too quiet.

She was too late...

The smell of blood made her head spin. What was left of the young girl was wedged underwater against a half-submerged tree in the creek. The beast had left some flesh on her legs and arms, and her head was mostly intact, but everything else had been eaten. Even though her face had been clawed, Simone could see that she had been a pretty little girl. Her horrified blue eyes stared up through the murky crimson water.

Simone peered across the creek at what lay on the ground at the base of the oak in a pool of blood. It was the partially devoured torso of a man, limbless and headless. The 'Wolf had simply slaughtered the man and torn him apart.

Simone squatted down on the bank of the creek, taking care to avoid the swiftly running water. The beast was probably still around here somewhere. He would have been ravenous so soon after he Changed; he would quickly metabolize the young girl's flesh and would hunger for fresh prey. She had to find him and stop him before he struck again.

Then she heard it.

The howling.

It was him! It had to be!

The ancient Celts believed the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead blurred on Halloween, an evil night, allowing the ghosts of the dead to return to earth.

Perhaps they'd been right.

The blood-chilling ululation reverberated through every cell in Simone's body. Her eyes flew open wide and she screamed. In that instant, the door to her past was flung open, and all the demons that had lain in wait for years exploded through the threshold to claw at her, and she relived all those moments of half-forgotten horror. She remembered it all, everything she had suffered, everything she had lost, everything he had taken from her, and she seethed with rage and grief.

The 'Wolf howled again, and with a scream of fury, Simone leaped to her feet and raced across Harper's Meadow toward the source of the terrifying sound...

* * *

The werewolf clung to the side of the tree about ten feet off the ground, a thickly-muscled sculpture of barely-controlled violence, using his long, sharp claws for purchase. He was at the edge of the Tanglewood State Forest where Route 56 curved away from a tidy little subdivision on the outskirts of Middleton. The neatly trimmed yards were full of cobwebs and rubber spiders, huge inflatable jack-o'-lanterns, fake tombstones and plastic skeletons.

The more elaborate displays featured Frankenstein's monster, vampires, zombies...

And werewolves.

Halloween.

It was always a good night to hunt. He even Changed on Halloween when there wasn't a full moon because he could move so easily among the costumed trick-or-treaters.

So simple to take down prey...

He'd been coming here to Middleton every time the Hunter's Moon fell on All Hallow's Eve since 1792. October 31st of that year - the first time he had shapeshifted into the form of a werewolf. He'd been out walking with his lovely fiancee Priscilla, and had slaughtered and devoured her.

His first Change, and his first kill.

It was a ritual for him. He returned here, every nineteen years or so, to kill beautiful young girls and feed on them where it had all begun for him.

Tonight was no different.

He licked a few drops of drying blood from his muzzle and grinned. Delicious. The girl's flesh had been sweet and tender, but already his stomach grumbled.

It was time to hunt again.

There was terrible, cunning intelligence in the beast's burning yellow eyes as he peered into the distance. His keen night vision detected movement three-quarters of a mile away. Two little girls about ten years old, dressed in ballerina costumes, all skinny legs and giggling energy. They would be little more than a morsel, a snack.

But they would do for now. He licked his chops and slid down the tree to the ground.

As he waited for them to get closer, he suddenly became aware of a presence behind him that raised his hackles. He snuffled in surprise

"Naughty 'Wolf," a sultry, lightly-accented voice playfully purred. "They're just little girls. Wouldn't you rather have a real woman?"

He whirled around and snarled. How could he not have detected her approach?

There was something vaguely familiar about her, but his bestial mind couldn't make the connection. She was about the same age as the girl he had just killed; however, while that one had been very pretty, this one was impossibly beautiful. She stood naked in the moonlight, her skin glowing pale silver. She had her hands folded behind her back, and she stood calmly, feet spaced an arm's length apart. Her auburn hair ruffled in the wind, and her emerald eyes appraised him candidly.

And...

Her strong musk floated on the light breeze, and his cock responded accordingly. Not only was she unafraid, she was aroused!

He would fuck this one before he killed and devoured her.

With a ferocious roar, he lunged forward and charged across the dew-slicked grass toward her.

Suddenly she whipped out the pistol from behind her back and fired. The Beretta spat flame; the bullet took him in the stomach and slammed him back as if he had hit a brick wall. He lay moaning on the wet turf as his body shifted and shrank back to its human shape.

He was so good-looking and charming, with his wavy brown hair and hazel eyes...

The young girl strode toward him, and as she walked, a turtleneck and windsuit formed over her.

And her scent was gone.

She shook her head as she pocketed her weapon.

"Stupid 'Wolves," she murmured. "Your minds are so easy to manipulate; you'll see anything I want you to see."

He screamed in agony as she kicked him in the pit of his stomach, where he'd been shot. Then she sat down on a large, flat rock next to him and glared coldly down at him.

"Gut shot. It's a 9 mm caliber slug - silver, of course - with a cross carved into the tip to make it tumble as it goes into you. It's a slow, painful death."

"You cunt!" he hissed. "Finish me. My b-belly is on fire!"

A smile quirked the corners of her mouth, but failed to reach her glacial green eyes.

"I see your left eye grew back," she said. When he stared blankly, she continued, "You don't remember? October 31st, 1944. Halloween dance - it was called Central High School then. About a quarter mile up the road from here, you mauled me and all but tore me apart."

She leaned over him, tears streaming from her eyes. One of them splashed on his bleeding belly, and he flinched.

It was as cold as ice.

"And then you put me across the hood of the car and you raped me..."