My Father the Werewolf
My father has four daughters and I am the youngest. I have known for
some time now that he is a Werewolf. One day, he told my sisters and me
that he would be gone for days on end in the forest chopping wood. He
asks if we would take turns bringing him food. We did not have anything
better to do so we all agreed. My oldest sister was the first to take
dinner to our father. When she did not return we figured that she
decided to stay and to help with the wood. My second to the oldest
sister left out early the next morning to take food for our father and
my oldest sister. However, come lunch time she had not returned either.
My other sister and I just assumed the same and that they were both
helping our father. So, my sister that was barely a year older than me
headed out with enough food for my father, her self, and my other two
sisters. Dinner came up fast and I had everything ready to go. I was
starting to become skeptical though of my sisters not returning.
Once I arrived at the camp site where my father was staying I was able
to quickly find him and ask him about my sisters. He told me that they
were down a ways moving some wood for him. Then he offered to take me
to them. I agreed, and proceeded with caution shortly behind him. The
next thing I knew, I was standing over a deep hole with my sisters all
lying dead in the bottom. My father proceeded to tell me that I had to
die like my sisters. I had to think fast, so I ask him to turn away so
that I could remove my clothes and then he could do as he wishes.
As soon as he turned around I was able to get a good fifteen to twenty
yards away before he heard me step on a stick. He instantly became
angry and started to chase after me. I first seen him and he looked
normal. Then when I turned around again to see how far away he was he
was a Werewolf. I panicked and dropped my handkerchief and he stopped
and ripped it to shreds. I figured losing my clothes one piece at a
time was the only way I would be able to survive. I did not get to
finish this thought before I felt his hot breath on my backside. Chills
went down my spine and I quickly removed a piece of clothing and he
stopped and ripped it to shreds.
This continued, each time with him getting so close that I could see
the sweat beading up on his skin. He had long claws that looked as if
they could decapitate you with one good blow. My heart was pounding, my
feet were hurting, and I could fell the cold chill of the air upon my
skin. I was down to only a few garments when I removed them all at once
to try and get to a hiding spot.
I was lucky because I came out onto a field with hundreds of piles of
hay. I found the smallest one and hid in it. I could here him ripping
through the piles and then it stopped. He was exhausted and went back
into the woods. I stayed there for a few hours until a King found me.
He was so polite and brought me to his castle with me still setting in
the hay.
The King was kind, and took me in and gave me a place to live. The
Queen was unable to have children and they were glad to have me. That
was ten years ago, and today I am the Queen.
Authors Notes
I changed the story up quite a bit. I chose to tell the story from the
Werewolves youngest daughters’ point of view. The next thing I did is I
went with only four sisters instead of nine. I figured this would make
it easier to stay under the thousand word minimum. The next thing was
that I changed the part about what happened between the youngest
daughter and the King. The original story tells about how they were
married and they had two children. However, I felt that she was
probably pretty young if she was the youngest of nine and thought that
it sounded better with the King taking her in.
Link to Homepage: Homepage
Link to Cover Page: Cover Page
Link to First Story: King Lycaons Sons
Link to Second Story: The Werewolf Strap
Link to Third Story: December 26th
Image (Werewolf)
Artist: Clyde Caldwell
Bibliography:
Original Story: The Werewolf's
Daughter
Sabine Baring-Gould,
The Book of Werewolves: Being an Account of a Terrible Superstition
(London: Smith, Elder, and Company, 1865), pp. 124-128.
