Stories

### **Chapter 1**

She was neither beautiful nor attractive. She did not have humbleness or kindness, the virtues glorified by the poets of the past. Nor did she have the ones attributed to queens and tsarinas. She would enter my home with no smile, without trying to be seductive or to hide her true motives under a veil of innocence. No, she would enter my home like a frenzied fury, and I would see her off with the same feeling of admiration and fear as the ancient Greeks felt when the sea monsters fed up with the sacrifices they had made swam away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful and more frightening than Catherine Jones in my entire life.

On that day, she came after midnight. No knocking, no warning, let alone a phone call. When I heard the door to my living room slam, I shuddered, put the star map aside, and fumbled for my cane. Only after finding the weapon, no matter how unreliable it might have seemed, I dared to step out of my office. I stopped on the down staircase, and it wasn’t until then that I saw Catherine, calmly and busily putting dog food into a bowl on the floor. I had bought the bowl a long time ago, knowing that Catherine always came over with her annoying little dog. The dog food had to be bought every week too, to make sure it’s not expired.

'How did you get in?' I asked wearily, taking off my glasses. Catherine immediately turned into a dark spot, but I remembered every inch of her face even without seeing it. 'I locked the door and did not give you the key.'

The monsters that are often seen outside have never invaded the homes of Coastal Hill residents, but I did not want to be the first victim. Although, people like Catherine didn’t really care about monsters.

Perhaps she smiled back — I couldn't see it, but I knew well that in such situations, Catherine would most often cheekily show her teeth and throw up her chin before condescending to answer — and then said:

'I took the key when I was here last time.'

'It’s not polite.'

'Oh, shut it, dear,' Catherine's loud and confident laugh echoed through the living room. Her nasty little dog barked, as if trying to shout down her owner. 'If you weren’t so dull, Nightring, you would have married long ago.'

'No, thanks,' I grinned, slowly descending the stairs. My leg had already been bent, and I could move fast enough — for my age and size, of course — but I still didn't want to take risks on the stairs. Catherine knew that and patiently waited below. Only after I had overcome the last step, she threw herself at me and held her arms around me. She pressed her lips against my neck, her arms wrapped around my back. I simply had no choice — I drowned in her arms and for a few seconds completely fell out of the real world. It was Catherine's enchanting power, or at least that was the effect she had on me. And of course, as soon as my eyes closed, the cane fell down on the floor, my hands closed around Catherine's waist, and then I heard a dull crack followed by a shrill bark of the dog.

'Move aside,' I managed to shout, freeing myself from her embrace and putting on my glasses. I saw a creature three feet taller than me standing in the middle of my living room. Covered in thick hair, stinking like a dog, with barely discernible scraps of clothing sticking out here and there. The elongated wolf face was, for some reason, lifted towards the ceiling. The creature sniffed, bared its teeth, but didn’t seem to notice Catherine and me. Even my shouting didn’t attract the creature’s attention.

'Damn it,' Catherine swore, stepping aside. Her dog, without stopping to bark frantically, backed away following her owner. 'They can’t get into our homes, those are the rules.'

'I don’t think they really care about the rules.'

I took a step forward, and then Catherine picked up the cane and handed it to me. Not that I was good at it, but I had no choice. Without any hope to defeat the monster, I was going to try to at least drive it away. The cane wasn’t the worst weapon, either. Even though the heavy steel knob I had cast in the basement last week hadn’t been finished yet. I never engraved the necessary symbols on it — I kept putting it off for later. I thought that, since the monsters got quiet, as they often do in winter, we could relax a little. As always, I was wrong.

Suddenly, the werewolf smelled something. It jerked its whole body and turned its ugly face to Catherine. Only then did I notice that the creature’s eyes were completely covered with a milky-white veil of blindness. The monster carefully and hesitantly took a step towards Catherine. The damned dog started barking even louder, and the monster took the next step much more confident. I didn't have much time.

'Hey, freak,' I shouted. The creature seemed deaf — it did not immediately react to my shouting, but only shuddered and again turned its face towards me. It was then that I hit. The heavy steel knob crunched the creature's face, crushing the fragile nasal bone. The monster leapt to the side with a squeal, breaking down the coffee table and the bowl of dog food with its back. I rushed forward, lowering my cane again, this time on the monster's back. The creature rushed to the door, but as it was blind, it ran into the doorframe. I didn’t want to provoke the creature even more or corner it, so I decided against striking the third blow — which was most likely a bad idea. As I already said, almost all the decisions I made that night, just as all the nights before that, were wrong and did not lead to anything good.

The monster, however managed to burst out into the street and immediately turned around, looking back at the house. The wound on its face was healing rapidly, and the whitish veil lifted from its eyes. The monster threw up its head to the sky and howled. I stood in the doorway, trying to catch my breath. Wolf howls were heard all over the neighborhood — more and more creatures responded to the werewolf. Catherine silently came up from behind. She put her hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t move, looking into the eyes of the werewolf standing in front of me.

‘You think we’ve got a problem?' Catherine asked, moving a little closer and also standing in the doorway.

‘Oh yes, a big one. Something tells me this is not a coincidence.'

'What’s not a coincidence, Nightring?' Catherine smiled the way she had always smiled when she was guilty of something serious, but instead of remorse she felt only thrill of joy and excitement.

'That the werewolf followed you. That it broke into my home even though they never do that. And that it’s not leaving, but calling its friends instead,' I spoke calmly and softly, not letting my anger to take over. Catherine was the last person in the world I would want to take it out on. Shaking her head, she took out a small steel medallion from her purse. Its shape resembled an uneven semicircle with lot of symbols and signs on it that I did not yet know.

'Perhaps it has come for this,' Catherine replied calmly, and smiled again so that the last remnants of anger left me. 'But you can handle it, sweetie.'

'I'm not sure,' I replied wearily. The werewolf standing in front of my porch howled with a grin.

**Chapter 2**