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    Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark
    Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark
    Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark
    Ebook97 pages1 hour

    Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark

    By Anthony Masters

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    About this ebook

    Tonight is the night of the full moon.

    Eyes shine in the darkness. The howling begins. Once human, now beast, the werewolf stalks his prey. And in the heart of the forest there are stories to be told…
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBloomsbury Publishing
    Release dateOct 1, 2013
    ISBN9781448213740
    Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark
    Author

    Anthony Masters

    Anthony Masters was renowned as an adult novelist, short story writer and biographer, but was best known for his fiction for young people. Many of his novels carry deep insights into social problems, which he experienced over four decades by helping the socially excluded. He ran soup kitchens for drug addicts and campaigned for the civic rights of gypsies and other ethnic minorities. Masters is also known for his eclectic range of non-fiction titles, ranging from the biographies of such diverse personalities as the British secret service chief immortalized by Ian Fleming in his James Bond books (The Man Who Was M: the Life of Maxwell Knight). His children's fiction included teenage novels and the ground breaking Weird World series of young adult horror, published by Bloomsbury. He also worked with children both in schools and at art festivals. Anthony Masters died in 2003.

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      Book preview

      Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark - Anthony Masters

      1

      Full Moon

      The howling began at midnight and went on without a break. The sound was terrifying and soon felt as if it was right inside the boys’ heads.

      ‘What is it?’ whispered Richard.

      ‘One of the animals in the zoo.’ Trying to block out the noise, his friend Neil buried himself deep in his sleeping bag, but it was no good. This was the first night of their camping trip and neither of them had been away from home on their own before. Neil had been feeling bad anyway, and the howling didn’t help. ‘Monkey, maybe.’

      ‘Sounds like a wolf.’

      ‘No chance.’ Neil was sure that Richard was right, but he didn’t want to think about it – not now.

      Eventually they slept, but Neil and Richard woke early, tired and irritable. A farmer had allowed them to pitch their tent on the flat part of a meadow that rose gently from a small stream. It was warm, and the early May morning was already sunlit. An ideal campsite – except for the zoo.

      From the top of the hill, the zoo looked run-down and shabby, with small enclosures and even smaller cages. A moth-eaten-looking giraffe munched at some sparse foliage, a monkey swung slowly on a metal bar and a lion paced miserably up and down.

      The zoo was almost completely silent in the morning sunshine, and as the boys cooked their breakfast Richard said, ‘That howling last night …’

      Neil’s reply was deliberately lost in the crunching of burnt toast. He didn’t want to think about last night. The noise had seemed to last for ever and he had had nightmares of being chased over the meadow by something dark and hairy. He had plunged into the deadly chill of the river to escape, but the thing had come after him, swimming strongly, teeth bared in the light of the full moon. Rapids took them, and Neil and the wolf were swept over into a foaming abyss. He had woken up as the creature landed on him in shallow water, ripping at his sodden clothes, its teeth digging deep into his shoulder.

      ‘Did you have a nightmare?’ asked Richard. ‘You woke me up. It sounded as if you were hurting somewhere. What were you dreaming about?’

      ‘Don’t remember.’ Neil wasn’t going to tell him because he was afraid the dream might become fixed in his mind and return that night. Then he had an idea. Suppose they went into the zoo and saw the animals close up. Maybe that would help to stop the dream coming back. ‘There’s nothing like a dose of reality to wash away those night fears’ – he could distinctly remember his mother saying that when he was smaller. The trouble was – he didn’t know whether to believe her or not.

      ‘Why don’t we go and have a look at that zoo this morning?’ he suggested tentatively.

      ‘It’s shut.’

      Neil suddenly realized that Richard was as scared as he was; he even seemed to be afraid of the place in broad daylight. They had to go in now, Neil reckoned; it would spoil everything if they were frightened off.

      ‘Let’s give it a try, Rick,’ he said.

      ‘All right then.’

      They grinned at each other rather warily. Richard and Neil were in the same football team and they had grown to rely on each other in emergencies.

      ‘That’ll be two pounds each,’ said the hard-faced woman behind the smeared glass window of the ticket desk. ARMSTRONG’S WILD ANIMAL EXPERIENCE, read the sign. THE ZOO THAT CARES.

      There were no admission prices on the board and Richard wondered if they were being conned.

      ‘That’s a lot,’ said Neil.

      The woman pursed her lips. ‘I’m charging you out of season prices.’

      ‘OK.’ Richard gave her the money unwillingly.

      ‘Welcome to Armstrong’s,’ said the woman automatically, her flat voice in keeping with her depressing surroundings.

      There were no other customers in the zoo. Tepid sunlight filtered the cages and enclosures, making them look even more squalid than before. The hyenas crept around the cage smaller than Neil’s front room, the apes were so short of space they had to huddle dejectedly together and the roof of the aviary leaked. The polar bears swam in a pool that was full of bobbing rubbish and the aquarium stank of neglect. But worse was to come. The mountain wolf was almost motionless, slumped dejectedly against one wall of his cage; it had a low roof, rusty bars and was incredibly cramped. The wolf gazed at his visitors in mute appeal.

      ‘He looks really miserable,’ said Neil.

      ‘Not for much longer,’ said a voice behind them.

      The man was young, with ginger hair and a pipe. He looked comfortable, caring and sensible. ‘I’m Fergus Armstrong, the new owner. The zoo used to be run by my uncle, but he let it go downhill – as you can see. I’m just waiting for the builders to come. We’re going to have new cages, new enclosures, new landscapes – the lot – so don’t be put off.’

      Hard not to be, thought Richard, gazing round in disgust. He suddenly noticed that the wolf seemed to be looking at Fergus Armstrong with venom in its eyes. Then he dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

      ‘When are they going to start?’ Neil was asking.

      ‘Couple of weeks. When you come back, you won’t recognize the place.’ He shook both their hands with a strong grip and walked briskly away.

      The zoo was so depressing that the boys soon decided to leave. Like the howling, Neil thought, it gets to you inside.

      ‘Enjoyed yourselves?’ asked the hard-faced woman as they passed her on the way to the exit, but, like the wolf’s, her eyes suddenly seemed venomous.

      ‘We met Mr Armstrong,’ said Richard. ‘He said the builders were coming in a couple of weeks – and all the animals were going to be rehoused.’

      ‘They certainly need it,’ put in Neil.

      ‘You’re right.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘But he’s been talking about improvements for years.’

      ‘He said he’d just taken the zoo over from his uncle.’

      ‘That was six years ago,’ she snapped indignantly.

      ‘Aren’t there inspections?’ asked Richard.

      ‘Yes, there’ve been several. But he keeps telling the inspectors the builders are coming in a couple of weeks.’

      ‘But why?’ Neil was horrified. ‘He won’t keep on getting away with it, will he?’

      ‘He has so far.’ She sounded resigned. ‘There’s only one thing that interests Fergus Armstrong: money coming in – not money going out. Anyway, I mustn’t go on like this. If I could find another job I would – but …’ She slammed shut her window.

      The boys walked back to the tent in silence. Richard was wishing they had never visited the zoo; he couldn’t forget the venomous look

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