“I’m seeking a professional diagnosis for lycanthropy. Any help is appreciated!”
The post was a few days old.. Shirley had abandoned hope that r/Lycanthropy would solve her nightmare, but she was not quite ready to give up. That was when she saw she had a comment. Mind racing with wild possibilities, she opened it up, eager for advice, affordable referrals, offers of money, or hell, even just some words of encouragement. This could be the end of her suffering.
“Same.”
That was all the comment said.
“I swear to God,” Shirley leant back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. It took three rings before she noticed her phone was ringing.
Glancing at the phone on her desk, she saw it was a call from her mom. She perked up in an instant and grabbed it. Maybe hope wasn’t lost.
“Sweetie, you’re going to hate me.”
Hope was lost.
“Let me guess, they told you the same thing they told me.” Shirley slouched in her chair, lazily holding the phone to her ear.
“More or less. They told me they could refer us to places, but they couldn’t pay for an appointment because they didn’t cover preventable, non-life threatening conditions.
“Ugh. That’s such BS. What part of terrorizing small towns in the night and eating people isn’t life-threatening?”
“I know this isn’t the news you wanted-”
“And who cares if it was preventable or whatever.” Shirley interrupted, continuing her rant. “My life’s just ruined because I made some dumb mistake anyone could make?”
“Not to take their side, but this really didn’t have to happen.”
“Mom, I don’t want to hear this right now.”
“You went home with that guy, after all.”
“I was drunk at the time besides, how was I supposed to know he was a werewolf?”
“You did mention he seemed way too enthusiastic to bite you.”
“I thought it was just a bite kink or something. I’ve done way worse.”
“Look, honey, I know you’re unhappy, but maybe things aren’t that bad.”
“Not that bad!?” Shirley sat upright in anger, grasping the phone much tighter. “I can’t go out most nights, I feel like I can’t control myself half the time, and I literally ate a child four weeks ago!”
“Look, sweetheart, I love you, but…”
Shirley didn’t need her to finish that thought.
“You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m faking it.”
“I don’t think you’re faking it, I just…” Her mother’s pause said a lot. My daughter is under a lot of stress and is imagining some things, she said. Come on, my daughter, a werewolf? It’s insane. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like you, and with you being in college, I want to make sure you don’t waste any money on this fantasy. I mean, we don’t even have a doctor who agrees with you.”
“Because I can’t get an appointment!” Shirley took a sharp, deep breath. “Look, mom. I know I’m a werewolf. I keep getting hair in weird spots, I lose consciousness whenever I see the full moon, dogs on the street have been suspiciously friendly to me lately. I just need a diagnosis, cause I can’t get the medication without it. I need that medicine, or this will just get worse.”
“Honey, I really think you just need to take a step back and-”
Shirley hung up the call. She stood up from her chair, but there was nowhere she could bring herself to go. What she wanted was to march into the clinic downtown, right into the office of the psychiatrist, and tell them all her symptoms. She wanted someone to finally listen to her, to tell her that she was a werewolf, to help her get better, but she couldn’t afford that appointment. Apparently, transforming into a furry, monstrous beast during a full moon and mauling people on the street was just a “potential sign” that she could be a werewolf. Those symptoms were nothing but quirks without that doctor’s signature.
Knock knock.
She was snapped out of her thoughts by a punctual banging on the door. Answering it was the last thing she wanted to do, but if it was who she thought it was, she had no choice.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I don’t want to hang out today.”
Shirley swung the door open and spoke before he even had a chance to realize she was there, his fist still raised in preparation to knock again.
“Come on, babe, I haven’t seen you in a week.” He protested.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but…” Shirley sighed and looked downward. “It hasn’t been a good day.”
“You keep on having bad days, babe.” Connor reached out his arms and grabbed both of Shirley’s shoulders reassuringly. She refused to look into his eyes. “You need to hang out with us. We can help you have a good day.”
“Us?”
“Oh, uh, I kinda told Diana we’re meeting her downtown in 10 minutes.” Connor removed one of his hands to awkwardly rub the back of his head.
“Connor!” Shirley glared at him. “I’m busy today! I’m nowhere close to getting that appointment, and I need-”
“Appointment?” Connor interrupted. “Don’t tell me this is about that werewolf thing?”
“I would call turning into a bloodthirsty monster more than a “thing,” but yeah, it’s about that. Everything’s about that. I can’t just stop being a werewolf, and until I get that appointment without having to pay a couple thousand dollars, I’m just gonna keep hurting people.”
“Well, I don’t know how much you’re hurting people with this werewolf nonsense, but right now you’re really hurting me by avoiding me.”
Shirley raised an eyebrow.
“So, just come along. Diana misses you. You’ll make her so happy if you do this. Besides, it’ll be good for you. It’ll be good for us.”
“I…” Shirley sighed and trailed off, staring back down at the ground for a second.
“Fine. I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
“I feel like it’s been ages, Shir,” Diana said, staring wide eyed at Shirley, a large smile plastered on her face. They were getting lunch at some cheap diner downtown, Diana seated across from Shirley and Connor in a booth and leaning on a mysteriously sticky table, not caring.
“Haha, I guess it has been a while.” Shirley awkwardly chuckled and took a sip of her water, eyes intentionally wandering away from Diana’s face.
“Yeah, thanks for hanging out with us. I know it’s been a hard couple months for you,” Connor said, putting his hand on Shirley’s shoulder. She looked towards him and saw his warm smile, but refused to look at his eyes.
“It’s been a hard couple months for all of us, so I get it.” Diana absentmindedly twirled the straw in her cola. “Midterms absolutely destroyed me.”
“It… it was a bit more than midterms for me…” Shirley muttered, the sentence fading into nothing as she said it.
“Oh?” Diana perked up. “Was it relationship trouble?”
“Ahem.” Connor glared at her.
“Oh, wait, yeah, forgot you two are dating now or whatever.”
“Don’t worry, it’s alright, I’ve just been…” Shirley trailed off once more, considering whether it was worth saying.
“I have lycanthropy.” The words stung as they came out, but they still felt like they had to be said.
“Oh, Shir.” Diana softened her glance and reached across the table, holding one of Shirley’s hands with both of hers. “I can’t imagine.”
“T-thanks,” Shirley stuttered, unable to meet Diana’s glance, but still slightly smiling and tearing up.
“It’s so brave of you to open up,” Diana continued, tightening her grip and speaking firmly. “We as a society need to learn to not be scared to talk about things like this.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Shirley turned her head towards Diana.
“I mean, we all suffer from stuff like this. It takes people like you to actually be brave enough to talk about it to help all of us.”
“We… all suffer?” Shirley had no trouble looking at Diana now, furrowing her brow. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean…” Diana’s confidence wavered. “I know I struggle with feeling a like a wearwolf, but there’s so much stigma around it I just keep quiet.”
Shirley yanked her hand out of Diana’s grasp.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“You know, it happens sometimes,” Diana explained, “Like last semester, during finals. I was feeling a little bloodthirsty, but I kept that to myself. I got over it, but it was a dark time.”
“Oh my god, you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Shirley closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Can not one person know what the hell I’m going through?”
“No, Shirley, you’re misunderstanding me.” Diana began talking quicker. “I’m saying we all feel a little lycanthropic at times. I’m not saying you’re overreacting, I’m saying that you’re brave for speaking out about those dark feelings we all have. You’re not alone, we can all relate!”
“It’s not a freaking mood swing, Diana! I have a condition! I’m ill!” Shirley yelled, forcing herself to calm down when she noticed the other restaurant patrons staring at her, tears forming in her own eyes when she saw Diana staring at her in shock.
“Calm down sweetheart, it’s all right,” Connor cooed, wrapping one of his arms around Shirley and pulling her in and against him. Shirley attempted to look Diana in the eyes but couldn’t. All she could do was cry.
“I-I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out in between her sobs. “It’s just… everyone says they understand, but no one does. No one believes I’m suffering, and no one wants to help. No one cares that I feel like a sack of shit every time I wake up.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Connor whispered softly. “We might not understand the situation to the full extent, but we want to help you. You’re our friend.”
Connor grabbed a napkin off the table and gave it to Shirley, who blew her nose in it.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Shir.” Shirley looked at Diana, who looked back kindly. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you, but let me talk this out with you and help.”
“Oh, um, alright.” Shirley blew her nose once more, before proceeding to scoot out of Connor’s grasp.
“Whenever I feel bad, I think about all the good things happening in my life,” Diana said, “So, let’s name some good things in your life.”
“Oh, uh, I don’t really know-” Shirley began.
“You’ve got awesome grades,” Diana interrupted, “you’re in, like, a gazillion clubs and rocking all of them-”
“You have an awesome, loving boyfriend.” Connor laughed as he interrupted Diana, playfully ruffling Shirley’s hair as he said it.
“Well, yeah, that’s all true-” Shirley attempted to butt in but was once again drowned out by Diana.
“Wasn’t it five months ago that you won that volunteering award for, oh, I can’t remember.” Diana’s goofy smile betrayed her lie.
“It… wasn’t for anything really.”
“For organizing an entire food drive for starving children in the area,” Connor interjected, “because she’s Shirley fucking Alcott, and she’s awesome!”
“Well, thank you guys…” Shirley trailed off, blushing slightly and smiling.
“Shirley, you’re great, and everyone around you knows it, so how about you admit it yourself.” Connor playfully punched her in the arm.
“Oh, I’m not going to…” Shirley bashfully rubbed her arm where Connor punched her.
“Come on, say it!” Diana pestered.
“Alright, I’m great!” Shirley beamed.
“Hell yeah you are!” Connor cheered and pulled her in for a hug in the booth seat. “All the werewolves I know are always slimy and creepy and lame, but you’re the most freaking awesome person on the planet.”
“I-I guess, but…” Shirley’s happiness faltered as she tried to talk, but she couldn’t compete with her friend’s boisterous attitudes.
“Yeah, Shir. Connor’s right. How can you be a werewolf if you’re this cool?”
Shirley wanted to object, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.
“Like remember Darrel Kingsley from last year?” Connor asked Shirley.
“You mean the guy who always wore the oversized jackets and never talked to anybody?”
“Yeah, that Darrel! He’s a werewolf, but you’re not a creep like him!”
“Well, don’t call him a creep. He was probably just scared and-”
“Shir, don’t tell me you’re seriously trying to defend Darrel Kingsley,” Diana laughed.
“Yeah, you’re so much better than that weirdo babe.”
“It’s just… I don’t really know what I’m trying to say.” That was a lie. Shirley knew exactly what she wanted to say about Darrel, but for some reason, the words refused to be said.
“Look, babe, you’ve just gotta shake this whole werewolf thing.”
Shirley looked at Connor with an intensity, a desire to reprimand him for his audacity.
But the words couldn’t form.
“Whenever I feel like a wearwolf, I’ve found that mindfulness and fresh air are great at home remedies,” Diana helpfully said.
“Yeah, babe, you have been a bit of a shut in. That’s been part of the problem. That’s why we’re doing this today. To help you get out and clear your head.”
“…”
“We’re not expecting you to feel better right now,” Connor said.
“And we’ll always be here to help and hear you,” Diana added.
Shirley wanted to talk, but it was like her vocal cords had gone numb, the blood rushing to her brain instead. Maybe she really was just overreacting. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding.
“We all have our down moments and those weird irrational thoughts we’re too scared to talk about. We understand. We all feel like you do,” Diana said.
Shirley couldn’t help but wonder if her friends were right. Who doesn’t feel a little loopy during a full moon? Who hasn’t had a bad day and mauled an innocent before?
“But most importantly, we see you, we hear you, and we love you.” Connor put both his hands on Shirley’s shoulders and twisted her so she was looking directly into his eyes, Shirley not strong enough to resist. “And what we see isn’t a werewolf, it’s Shirley Alcott. A Shirley who is going through a rough patch and is a little scared and confused, but is still the same smart, talented, and kind Shirley as always.”
“You know what?” Shirley finally said.
The waitress showed up at their tableside, setting down a plate in front of Shirley. It was a full steak, completely raw.
Shirley stole a glance at it. She was absolutely famished, the red juice pooling at the bottom of the plate looking so good she could drink it right there, the tendons and fats in the meat seeming to taunt her. It wasn’t even about taste, she just wanted to devour that piece of flesh like she had personally killed for it.
She looked directly into Connor’s loving eyes, and smiled.
“You’re right. I’m not a werewolf. Thanks for snapping me out of it.”
In one swift motion, she picked the steak up off the plate and shoved it into her mouth, digging her teeth into it and pulling it out viciously so that a piece tore off. She chewed and swallowed as if her life depended on it, not caring to wipe away the deep red drops of juice that ran down her chin and dripped onto the table. Heaving and taking deep breaths, she shoved the steak into her mouth and bit down again.
“Excuse me, waitress, where are our dishes?” Diana huffed.
“Your wack job friend ordered a raw steak miss. Your meals actually need to be cooked,” The waitress deadpanned and walked away.
Diana turned to Shirley and Connor and crossed her arms.
“I don’t like her attitude.”
“So, you wanna go out for dinner?” Connor asked, sitting on a couch and looking at his phone.
“Go out?” Shirley laughed, leaning forward against the backrest of a chair opposite the couch. “We just did.”
“Yeah, but I like going out with you.” Connor lazily let his phone fall onto his lap and looked over at Shirley, giving her ridiculous puppy dog eyes.
“Nice try, bud, but I have too much of a backbone for that to work.”
Shirley and Connor had gone back to Connor’s apartment after they finished up lunch with Diana. The two didn’t have any real plans, just lazing about and watching movies, not really noticing that they had nothing for dinner until it was 9 p.m.
“Well, we still gotta eat.” Connor stood up from the couch and walked over to where Shirley was standing. She turned around as he approached her from behind, the duo playfully smiling as Connor wrapped his arms around her in a hug, gently swaying with her.
“I can cook us something,” Shirley suggested. “Of course, if you actually have a single ingredient in your fridge.”
“I don’t have eggs one time,” Connor laughed.
“Eggs and bread!” Shirley giggled, the two breaking up the hug but not releasing their grip on each other’s arms.
“Thanks for earlier,” Shirley said softly as she looked into Connor’s warm eyes. “You were right. I was just all in my head and confused. The stress must have gotten to me.”
“Don’t mention it babe, we all get a little lost sometimes. I’m just glad you’re back to normal.” Connor released his grip on her and playfully rubbed the top of her head. “Now, how about you actually make something?”
It was mostly a joke earlier, but Shirley was slightly concerned that Connor would not have any actual ingredients. Thankfully, he did end up having some milk, butter, cheese, and an open box of macaroni in a random cupboard. Mac and cheese might not be the most romantic dinner, but it was still dinner.
She rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and set up a pot of water on the stove and added in the macaroni, in the meantime searching for a colander somewhere in Connor’s barebones kitchen. Thankfully, she did manage to find one in yet another random cupboard in the kitchen, although she did have to quickly rinse off the layer of dust on it.
“I’m not convinced you’ve ever actually cooked in your life,” Shirley joked as she dried off the colander and set it next to the pot.
“That makes two of us,” Connor chuckled back.
“I should probably stir this,” Shirley muttered to herself, looking down at the cooking pasta. She went over to a nearby drawer in search of a utensil, finding just what she needed in the first one she opened, a large metallic spoon sitting amidst a mess of flatware.
Reaching in to the grab the spoon, she whipped her hand back the exact second her fingers wrapped around it as the most intense pain of her life coursed through her hand. It was like every nerve in her fingers had been burnt in the sun simultaneously.
“OH FUCK!” She screamed, recoiling violently and falling backwards onto the floor, the sensation so overwhelming she could hardly think straight. All she could do was tense the rest of her body and try not to faint.
“Babe, what’s wrong!?” Connor barged into the kitchen, immediately crouching down to Shirley’s side when he saw she was writhing in pain. “What happ- oh my god.”
Shirley’s hand looked like it had a third-degree burn, her skin some awful shade of mangled red, bone just barely visible at some parts.
“Was it the stove, or did you touch something else?” Connor asked, grabbing Shirley’s injured hand by the wrist and inspecting it.
Shirley, teeth bared, barely managed to mutter her response. “The… spoon.”
Connor dropped Shirley’s hand, her moaning in agony as it hit against the cold linoleum floor of the kitchen. He stood up and looked in the open drawer.
Shirley watched in horror as Connor reached in and pulled out the spoon, holding it firmly in his hand.
“This spoon was a gift from my mother. It was a part of a utensil set she got me when I moved into this apartment.”
Connor looked down at Shirley, who briefly forgot the pain when she met his gaze.
There was no soul in his eyes.
“A silver, utensil set.”
Connor set the spoon down on the counter and stopped looking at Shirley for a moment, reaching into the drawer once more. This time, he pulled out a knife.
Shirley didn’t need him to tell her that it was from the same set.
In one clean motion, she swung her arm at Connor’s legs with as much force as she could muster. Connor, caught off guard, fell to the floor. His head slapped against it with an unholy sound as he yelled out in pain.
There was nothing but adrenaline in Shirley’s blood. Barely managing to stand up, she tried desperately to flee. She couldn’t even dodge when Connor swung the knife at her and grazed her ankle.
She howled in pain as she hobbled away from him, her ankle engulfed in the same burning sensation as earlier, rendering it effectively unusable.
“You dirty bitch!” Connor growled at her. He struggled to get off the floor himself. With the speed he hit the linoleum, he was almost certainly concussed.
Shirley didn’t have time to ask her boyfriend what the hell was going on. She shoved her unburnt hand into her mouth and bit down, trying to do anything to overcome the all-encompassing pain the knife had done to her ankle so she could keep walking. Her bite was so strong that she broke the skin, drops of blood spilling into her mouth.
She didn’t even have time to be terrified that she liked the taste.
Thankfully, Connor’s bedroom was only a few feet away. Shirley barely managed to collapse into it, kicking the door close behind her and frantically reaching up to lock it.
It was only a few seconds later that the entire door shook, Shirley sitting on the ground and leaning against it.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Connor yelled.
“Connor, what the hell is going on!?” Shirley screamed, taking deep and heavy breaths. Instinctively, she shoved all her body weight forward and fell into a heap a few feet in front of the door. From the corner of her eye, she could see the glint of metal as the knife was thrust under the door.
“You are a fucking werewolf!” Connor barked through the door. It buckled again a few seconds later.
“I literally told you!” Shirley screamed back, wincing as her ankle brushed against the floor. “You’re the one who told me I wasn’t!”
“You’re the one who listened! Why’d you go around thinking you weren’t you asshole!”
The door was hit again. It bent slightly this time.
“Do you know how shit it’s all been for me?!” Shirley protested. “Nobody believed me! You told me all those nice things after I’d spent months thinking I was worthless! I guess you made me believe everyone was right about me faking it! I wanted to believe I wasn’t a werewolf!”
“Well obviously everyone was wrong!”
“But why do you want to kill me?!” Shirley wailed, choking on the last few words as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m just a werewolf?!”
“I know your kind.” Connor’s voice was calmer, but more authoritative. He became silent for a second, before the door buckled more severely. “You want to ruin me! You want to kill me! I’m not going to be the guy who dated a werewolf!”
“What are you talking about!?” Shirley coughed roughly, watching as drops of blood sputtered out of her throat and onto the carpet. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
“You deserve this!” Connor growled through the door. Shirley could see the brief flash of silver as he stabbed underneath the door again. “You’re dirty! You aren’t awesome, talented, kind, or whatever BS I said to make you care! You’re just like them, but I won’t let you make me like them!”
“You’re making yourself the victim!?” Shirley yelled in disbelief. “I’m literally the werewolf! I’m the person whose life has been ruined and who everyone acts like I’m just being dramatic! I did nothing to you!”
“You lied!” A small fragment of wood tore loose from the door and fell to the carpet below. “You let me think you were someone you’re not!”
“You knew who I was from the very start!” Shirley had all but forgotten her pain, now fully enveloped by rage. “Who was it I called when I got bit?! Oh right, it was your sorry ass! I cried to you, and you let me into your arms! You made me feel like maybe someone could actually care about me like this!”
“I thought my friend was asking for my help! Not you!” The door buckled once again, a more sizable piece of wood falling off. This apartment was cheap. Putting faith in that door was not something she wanted to do.
Looking around, she noticed a dresser along the wall next to the door. Barely managing to hobble up, she jumped on one leg over to it and stood at its side. With every ounce of strength within her she threw her body weight against it. It refused to budge.
“I’m not gonna date some dirty werewolf!” Connor continued yelling. “I’m not gonna be known as the guy whose girl played him and ruined his life!”
“I never wanted to date you!” Shirley continued to protest, not even yelling, just sobbing out the words. “When you told me I was all those good things, when you made me believe I wasn’t who I knew I was…”
Shirley choked on her own air halfway through, looking in horror as she noticed a thick bush of hair forming on her arm. She grabbed her pushed up sleeve with her burnt hand, gutturally crying out but still pulling it down to cover her forearm.
“You made me feel like maybe I was still worth something like this!” Shirley continued to sob and scream. “When you asked to date me, you had me convinced that maybe that would fix it! You made me feel like I was loved, like maybe I could have someone who still wants me like this! Maybe I could get better!”
The door buckled once more, this time the upper hinge ripping off and falling to the floor with a thud. The upper part of the door was now splintered and bent, loose from the frame.
“CONNOR PLEASE!” Shirley wailed. “You don’t have to do this!”
“Oh yes I do!”
Frantically, she threw her entire body weight against the dresser once more. It still did not move, but a box on top of it fell off and broke, its contents spilling out. She looked down at the box and recognized it. It was an antique, a hollowed out music box made out of wood that was rotted and splintered. She was the one who had bought that box for Connor. Two months ago, she got it from an antique shop for their anniversary.
Next to the box were its spilled out contents. Assorted coins and dollar bills, paper clips, pins, and other small, loose objects. Right next to all of that laid a small, metallic cylinder.
A silver bullet.
Shirley stopped pushing on the dresser, she stopped paying attention to the door, she stopped caring about the searing pain in her hand and ankle.
All she did was take a step back.
In the corner of Connor’s room was a large window that had a great view of downtown, the kind of sight that could relax you after a long day. Unfortunately, the curtains were drawn close, the moonlight emanating from the edges of the frame and taunting Shirley as she used both feet to walk over. With her unburnt hand, she grabbed onto the curtain.
The streets looked absolutely beautiful tonight.
It was thirty seconds later that the door finally gave out under Connor’s weight, and it was two seconds after that when the knife was flung out of his hand, falling onto the floor behind him with a metallic ring.
Connor didn’t have time to reach for the light switch as he was knocked off his feet and pinned to the ground, but thankfully there was no need. The room was moonlit and beautiful, bathed in shadow and silver light. How fortunate that it was a full moon tonight, the pale incandescence bleeding into the room through the window seemed to fluoresce in midair.
The creature was nine feet tall, awful and jagged, like a statue crudely pieced together from shattered marble. Breaths refused to escape Connor’s lips as he stared directly up at the beast who had him trapped face to face on the ground. It was furry and monstrous, slobber escaping from its maw and falling onto his face.
There wasn’t even a chance to scream as its claws slashed into his sides and pierced his organs, no conceivable way for him to do anything but to stare into the creature’s red, beady eyes as the blood poured out from him and congealed on the carpet, what little life that was ever in his eyes fading away into nothing but a memory.
Shirley would have to bring Connor to her next meeting with the insurance company. He could definitely vouch that her condition was life-threatening. She might even finally get that appointment and get diagnosed as a werewolf.
But it was best to not get too ahead of herself.
Josh Hicks is a member of the class of 2025 at University Park and is majoring in astronomy and astrophysics. In his free time he enjoys staring into space, staring up at space, writing, writing about space and wasting absurd amounts of time on farming video games.