Page 10
Story: When Storms Awaken
“I know what you mean,” Tess started, “Something is off, I can feel it too.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God Tess didn’t think I was crazy. I wasn’t alone in this, at least.
First, we see this giant wolf with human-like eyes. Then we hear that there was a wolf attack right in town. We have a new kid at school in themiddleof the semester, Ms. Finch is acting entirely strange, and now I am breaking glass with my screams and having panic attacks out of nowhere. Not to mention I’ve been tired all the time, my dreams constantly plagued by these nightmares.
But I feel this weird pent-up energy inside me, too. I feel like I’m being tugged in two different directions. I’m dreaming of a place I’ve never been, with a white wolf that has a red sigil that I’ve never seen. And thisnew kidhappens to draw thisexactplace during art class? Weird didn’t even begin to cover it. Was any of this a coincidence?
“Listen, my mom isn’t home yet. I am going to head to the library before I clean this mess up, can you meet me?” I asked.
“No can do, comrade. The parentals have me on strict lock down. I got a C- on my history paper and I will probably have to study for the next month straight to make up for it.”
“Dammit.”
I ran my nails up and down my jeans as I thought about what to do next. I had to do some research, there had to be something in the newspaper archives at the library that would give me some clues as to what was going on in this town. Maybe I had missed something when I had searched on my computer the other day. Maybe this was all a coincidence, and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. I also wanted to do a background check on Nik, see if there was anything useful about him from his last school. It was awfully suspicious that everything turned crazy right after he came to town.
“I am going to head there anyway, I’ll let you know what I find.”
I stood up brushing off the back of my jeans and tossing the mess of auburn curls over my shoulder and out of my face.
“Ok, babe, let me know what you find. Everything’s going to go back to normal, Diana,” Tess reassured me.
“I hope so, Tess.” I let out a humorless laugh.
“I know. Stay strong.”
Tess hung up with a click.
The library was only about a ten-minute drive from home. I pulled onto Herring Street and parked in the first spot I could find out front. I made my way to the computer lab in the back room of the downstairs wing and settled myself into a computer chair.
I pulled up the newspaper archive directory and searched “wolf attack.” When the results popped up, there were four matches. The first result was for a wolf attack back in the seventies from the Silver Oaks Local Newspaper where a woman was attacked near the town hall. It said that she was playing with her dogs in her backyard when a wolf attacked her, killing one of her dogs and wounding her. Her husband shot the wolf and upon later inspection it was determined the wolf had rabies. This one didn’t fit the bill.
The next article was from the Clear Creek County Times from the nineties. A woman was riding her horse on a trail that led through the center of town when she crossed paths with a wolf. The wolf became aggressive, but the horse stood its ground, and the wolf ran off. That same wolf was later shot and killed while attacking a farm in Lawson.
The third story was from the Silver Oaks Academy School Newspaper. A man was attacked on Beacham Street while out for a walk. A witness claims to have seen an incredibly large wolf grab the man and drag him into the woods. His body was never found, and nobody was ever reported missing. A chill ran down my spine as I stared at the computer monitor. Beacham Street was right at the intersection of the long road that led to the mountain landing. It was onlyminutesaway from my house.
The wolf was never found, and neither was the body. The article stated that the witness claimed the wolf was larger than a normal wolf, even bigger than a bear. The writer of the article made sure to point out witness testimony was not always reliable, likely trying to explain away the witness statement as an over exaggeration.
This could easily have been the same wolf that Tess and I had seen last weekend, the same wolf that had attacked Mrs. Madden in town. I checked the date of the article, and it was dated only a year ago. How had I never heard about this before? I didn’t always read the school newspaper, but an attack happening this close to home would surely have been the talk of the town. Wouldn’t this have been included in the local newspaper as well? Since the body was never found, was the investigation still open?
I hit the print button and folded the piece of paper, sliding it into the pocket of my coat. I checked the last article, which was from the Clear Creek County Times. This one was an attack right outside of Empire. No humans were hurt, and the wolf attacked a flock of sheep before being shot and killed by the farmer. Only four reports of wolf sightings in the surrounding towns in the last fifty or so years, and only one that fit the description of what Tess and I had seen in the woods.
I returned to the computer and opened a new window, searching ‘giant wolf, human eyes.’ The search returned no results of any worth, only fan art and poorly done Photoshop images.
Last, I opened a new tab and searched ‘Nikolai Dragovya, Colorado.’ No results returned.Noresults? Surely there had to be something on here, everybody left a digital footprint of some kind. He didn’t have any social media? No records of him having been on a sports team at his old school? I tried typing only his name, and still no search results. No school records? Voting records? This was odd. I wish I knew what the name of the school was that he had attended before ours.
At least I had found one article of worth in the archives. Patting my jacket pocket to ensure it was safely tucked away, I shut off the computer with a tired sigh and made my way back to the Subaru.
By the time I got home, a blanket of darkness covered the town. The clouds were dark and thick, appearing as if they could swallow our little grey house whole. I had forgotten to turn the front lights on before I left, but every light inside was turned on now. I guess Mom had come home early and found out about the back door...
I parked the Subaru in the driveway and cautiously made my way to the front door. The light of the moon did little to guide me over the stone pathway. The thunderstorm had melted some of the snow but it had left behind a thick layer of black ice once the sun had set and temperatures had plummeted.
I paused at the front door, my hand on the knob. What was I going to say to her? How could I explain this? I didn’t have an explanation. EvenIdidn’t know what had actually happened.
I turned the knob, and the door groaned as it swung open. There, in the living room, stood my exceptionally angry mother with her arms folded. My brother lounged on the recliner with his feet up and a smug expression plastered across his face. She turned to me, her face a mask of fury.
“I was just telling Mom how I came home from lacrosse practice and found the sliding door shattered, along with every single light in the room. Did you throw aparty?” He laughed clutching his stomach. “This place was trashed!”
“No, Jake,” I started in an angry, clipped tone. “Who would have a party in the middle of the afternoon?” I turned from him to my mom whose expression was none too forgiving.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10 (Reading here)
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76