Stories AHalf p2

Chapter 2
Werewolves were flocking from all over the area — one by one at first and then in pairs. Twenty minutes later, they sealed off my house. I tried to force Catherine to go to the basement and lock herself in there, but she paid no heed. The woman was not afraid of anything, and I would be lying if I said I did not admire Catherine’s fearlessness.

‘Have you got a plan?’ She asked, peering through the doorway. The battered-down door was still lying at our feet.

‘Perhaps, not the best one, but I got an idea,’ I nodded, stepping back. Catherine followed me, also moving carefully and slowly. The werewolves fell silent, either watching or preparing something new and unexpected for us. ‘I can create a moon charm if you help me. But I will still have to stay here and watch the damn werewolves.’

‘Well, of course,’ Catherine laughed. ‘I always have to do everything, eh, poor me. What do you need for a charm, sweetie?’

I shrugged, without taking my eyes off the werewolves that began to move. One of them, the one who had broken into my house and got hit in the face with a cane, seemed to be getting ready for a new attack. Though hesitantly, but it started moving towards my porch. The others followed it.

‘Aluminum can lids. Tin snips. Fishing line,’ I thought for a second, trying to remember what else one might need to make a quick charm. ‘A drill bit and some silver paint.’

‘On it!’ With a loud laugh, Catherine disappeared behind my back. Plucking up all my courage, I stepped forward and froze in the doorway. The werewolves were noticeably happy with that. They growled and the leading one bared its teeth and started moving right at me. One jump, and it was on the porch. Once the beast had approached the doorway, I immediately retreated. There was no point in battling with a horde of werewolves. Only when the monster stuck its head inside, I hit it with a cane — that was enough to make the creature that instantly got blind rush back to the street.

‘Come on, Catherine,’ I whispered to myself, watching the werewolves gathering on my porch. Most likely, some of them had already started looking at the kitchen and living room windows. When I heard Catherine’s loud scream, I was not even surprised. I just rushed to the sound — towards the basement door under the stairs.

The door was open, and I saw Catherine staggering up the stairs all dazed, holding her obnoxious little dog in her arms.

‘Are they already down there?’ I asked wearily, glancing towards the hallway. The werewolves had not yet broken in, but it was only a matter of time.

‘No,’ Catherine answered, and I thought I would never heard her voice so low and lifeless before. ‘Not them, not the werewolves.’

‘Anyway, everything we need is in the basement. Lock the door behind me; I can’t keep the werewolves in the living room anyway. There are too many of them.’

In a hurry, I started walking down the stairs. The lock clicked behind me, and Catherine’s dog howled.

‘What was it that scared you so much?’

‘I don’t know,’ Catherine’s voice sounded much calmer now. Her initial fright was a momentary weakness, nothing more. ‘I didn’t have time to look closer. But that something is out of ordinary. Not one of those things you see on the streets.’

‘Interesting,’ I licked my dry lips and pushed my glasses up my nose. Of course, it was better to get acquainted with the paranormal from a distance: listening to Sheriff Walker’s stories, reading police reports, or even looking out of your own window. But still... I couldn’t help but smile. If Catherine had seen a new kind of monster, what could be more important in one’s life than to study it? Perhaps, to study and stay alive, but I preferred not to look too far ahead into my future.

We heard a wolf howl over our heads — the werewolves got inside. Catherine shuddered but said nothing. I finally climbed down the last step and saw nine more Nightrings in the light of the candle Catherine had dropped. And then nine Catherine Jones’ and nine annoying little dogs.

‘Holy God,’ came a voice behind me. ‘These are just mirrors. What the hell are they doing in your basement, sweetie?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said honestly, picking up the candle from the floor. Fortunately, nothing had caught fire yet. ‘I didn’t bring any mirrors to the basement.’

Catherine cursed — too vulgar to quote. Then again, little less dirty. I took her hand and together we entered a semicircle formed by the mirrors. Nothing happened. Without taking my eyes off my own reflection, I handed the candle over to Catherine and began to show her where to find things. Cans were by the cabinet or under it, as luck would have it; paint either on the table or on the shelf; tin snips should have hung on a special tool hanger, but if not, one could take a closer look in the cabinet or under the table. Catherine was doing a great job finding items under my careful guidance — at least at first. She found several aluminum lids right away, then took the snips from the hanger, and right after that, the candle Catherine was holding in her hands went out. A moment later, the mirrors began to glow.

‘What’s in there?’ Catherine asked quietly, turning to me. She couldn’t bring herself to step into the semicircle formed by the mirrors, and I was somewhat grateful to her for that. I kept looking into the mirrors that were slowly getting brighter with cold green glow and felt my heart sinking into my boots. Something shattered up on the ground floor with a loud clang. The werewolves began to destroy the house, trying to find us.

‘Nothing,’ I said quietly to Catherine. ‘Look for the damn items and don’t get distracted. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we’ll be safe.’

Catherine nodded. She tried to relight the candle, but the burning match was slipping over the wick in vain — the flame just didn’t want to be thrown. However, the mirrors shone brighter and brighter, and soon they emitted enough light to illuminate the space around, so we could keep looking for the items we needed for the charm. Catherine swore, threw the candle on the floor, and began to rummage through the shelves. Meantime, I was looking at someone else’s reflection. A girl, about eleven, stood in front of me. Nine girls, to be more exact. Their eyes looked as if filled with thick black tar, and smoke came out of their mouths. The girls’ long black hair dragged along the dirty stone floor, and I could see small bones and dead insects lying on that floor. What a terrible dungeon was this child kept in?

‘Nightring,’ I suddenly heard a voice over my left shoulder. Turning around sharply, I saw nothing but a mirror in which the girl was reflected. She didn’t smile, but she opened her mouth, and more and more smoke began to come out of it. The girl raised her hand, and although there was nothing in it, it looked as if the child wanted to stab me with a knife.

‘Nightring,’ I heard a voice from another side. I jerked, and at that moment a non-existent knife plunged into my back. I was about to scream, but the pain disappeared in just a moment. Straggling to catch my breath, I looked back at the reflection. The girl was still standing there, but with her back to me. Dozens of spiders and centipedes crawled along the child’s long black hair.

‘I found it,’ Catherine’s voice snapped me out of my stupor. Shaking off the daydream and forcing myself to look away from the mirrors, I finally managed to turn to my... well, I could turn to Catherine. I forced a faint smile, took a step forward, listened closely.

‘It got suspiciously quiet upstairs,’ I managed to say, a moment before the basement door was ripped off its hinges and thrown onto the stairs. We found ourselves locked in a basement with a horde of werewolves and something alien coming out of the mirrors that I had never bought.