Adventures of a Wimpy Werewolf: Hairy But Not Scary Read online

  I could hear Ryan stomping back down the corridor. Oh God, what was he going to bring? A knife? A gun? A chainsaw?

  Ryan walked in carrying a mirror. Except it couldn’t have been a mirror, because when he held it up to my face, I saw a large ginger dog. Except that wasn’t quite right either. It wasn’t a dog at all. It was a wolf.

  A few minutes later, I felt myself shrink down again and my howl turned back into a scream. This turned into confused sobbing as I tried to make sense of what had happened.

  It must have been an hour before I could speak again. The first question I asked Ryan was how he’d known. Instead of replying, he rolled his hands into fists and looked up at the ceiling with intense concentration until the veins on his neck bulged into thick tubes and a pelt of ginger fur burst out of his skin. He roared until his jaw jutted forward into a muzzle. Then he spread out his hands and howled as his ribcage wrenched itself apart. His legs hunched and twisted beneath his jogging bottoms and his feet arched into paws.

  He leaned over me and snarled, leaving a trail of slobber dangling in my face. I burst into tears again and begged him not to eat me.

  I’m a werewolf. A wolfman. A lycanthrope. A shape-shifter. No matter how I put it, it doesn’t make sense. But I can hardly deny it now, can I?

  After Ryan turned human again, he undid my shackles and patiently answered my questions about the condition. It was a bit like that time Mr Landis outlined my duties as a prefect. Except that it involved transforming into a bloodthirsty supernatural beast rather than reporting people for running in the corridors.

  It turns out that Ryan is actually twenty-five years old. He looks younger because you age much slower when you’re a wolfman. He says that most werewolves live until over 150, which is a bonus. I wonder if I’ll live to see those hovering skateboards out of Back to the Future 2.

  The only things that might prevent you living so long are silver bullets, which are fatal, and a flower called wolfsbane, which can paralyse you long enough for someone to chop you up. But an enemy would have to know you were a werewolf to use either of these, so you’re safe as long as you keep a low profile.

  I don’t suppose that growing a tail in a science lesson counts as keeping a low profile, though I doubt any of my classmates want to be werewolf slayers. I certainly can’t remember anyone mentioning it that time the careers guidance officer visited.

  Ryan said he was transformed into a wolf when he was bitten at the age of thirteen. He says that most wolves are transformed by bites, although it’s possible you can inherit the condition if both your parents have it.

  I told him about the night I was bitten and he said it was probably one of the wolves from his pack. Although he does his best to keep them under control during full moons, there are occasions when a wolf strays and bites someone. I thought he might apologize for this oversight, but he didn’t. I think he sees the condition as a privilege rather than a curse anyway.

  Then I told him about the night I trashed my room and he said this was typical of a first transformation. It often throws your mind into such a state of confusion that you can’t remember anything afterwards. Most wolfpeople get better at remembering their lupine state as time goes on, though some never manage it.

  Since my first transformation, I’ve been experiencing involuntary partial changes brought about by excitement or panic. Ryan said he was sorry he had to frighten me to bring on another full change, but it was the only way he could show me the truth.

  I then asked him why I didn’t have to wait until the full moon to transform, like the werewolves you see on TV. And here’s the cool bit. Apparently, most werewolves only transform on the three nights around the full moon, but there is a much rarer type called ‘alpha wolves’, who can transform at any time, and I’m one of those. Ryan is also one, which is why he is pack leader.

  Although I don’t have control over my changes yet, I’ll be able to turn them on and off as I get used to them. Ryan then offered to mentor me in wolf skills, and I thanked him, but said that I should wait until after my GCSEs so I can focus on it properly.

  In the meantime, I’ve agreed to join Ryan’s pack, which is called the Lunar Wood Pack. Apparently, it’s one of the oldest in the country, and draws wolves from as far afield as Burnton and Stockfield every full moon.

  I can’t believe I’m going to meet them all the week after next. Ryan reckons they’ll be overjoyed about getting a new alpha wolf. Although that’s exactly how Mr Landis said the school would feel about getting a new prefect, and that turned out to be a big fat lie.

  I hope this doesn’t mean I can’t become a politician now. I don’t see why it should. As long as election night doesn’t fall on a full moon, I should be able to balance wolf life with a political career. Having said that, the tabloids would have a field day if I ate someone live on Question Time. You’d need a good PR guy to put a positive spin on that.

  Monday 30TH April

  Part of me thinks I should forget my exams and go back to Ryan’s house for training this week, but they’re so close now I really want to get them out of the way first. It’s much easier to get things done if you focus on them one at a time. Memorize the periodic table today; master shape-shifting tomorrow. That kind of thing.

  Anyway, I’m sure I’ll be able to control my body a lot easier now I know more about my condition. Ryan said that stress and panic are the things that make me transform, so as long as I keep calm, I should be able to make it through the day without supernatural incident.

  Today was a lot better. I started to get nervous in History when Mr Jordan went through all the topics that might come up on the exam, and I spotted thick ginger hairs pushing up through my skin again. But then I took deep breaths until my hand went back to normal. It wasn’t so difficult. If Luke Skywalker can defeat the Galactic Empire and restore freedom to the galaxy, I’m sure I can stop a few silly hairs from growing. Although I must admit I identify more with Chewbacca than my namesake these days.

  Tuesday 1ST May

  Okay, perhaps I was a little premature when I said I had full control over my body. We got our exam papers back in Science today and I got an E. How can I have dropped from an A star to an E since Christmas? Surely no one in the history of GCSEs has ever descended from genius to dunce so quickly.

  I saw the wolf hairs coming through on my hands again and tried to take deep breaths, but this time it didn’t work. I just kept thinking about the humiliation of opening my exam results and seeing the letter ‘E’ next to every subject. The best job you can get with qualifications like that is asking people if you can return their shopping trolleys and keep the pound deposit.

  I felt the vertebrae on my back popping up one by one and realized the whole wolf thing was going to happen, and the best course of action open to me now was to hide.

  I padded into the corridor and made for the cleaners’ supply cupboard. I threw myself in and slammed the door shut. After a few seconds of the familiar stretching pain, I was in wolf form again. My head was almost touching the ceiling of the tiny room, and my tail was knocking bottles of floor cleaner off the shelves as it wagged behind me.

  Now I was in full wolf form, I didn’t want to hide at all. I wanted to leap out into the playground and chomp some throat.

  I can’t believe I wanted to commit brutal murder! I had a sleepless night with guilt that time I sneaked onto the train without buying a ticket! Yet now I was ravenous for an unlimited buffet of Year Seven pupils. What have I become?

  Luckily, I was too stupid to work out how to open the door when I was in wolf form. I flailed around at the handle for ages, but with an IQ in single figures and no opposable thumbs it was too much for me.

  It’s weird how stupid I get when I switch into wolf form. I might try it next time Mum makes me sit through her Mamma Mia! DVD.

  As soon as I was human again, I did my best to put all the cleaning bottles back on the shelves and skulked off down the corridor.

  I passed Mr Landi
s as I was leaving the building, and he tutted at me. He said that I was trying so hard to be one of the tough kids I’d even adopted the ‘bad boy limp’, which is this walk Tyson’s gang do when they drag one of their legs behind them. I looked down and saw that one of my legs was still in wolf form.

  I’ve just downloaded a relaxation course to my iPod. If I feel another transformation coming on, I can just pop my headphones on and calm down again.

  Wednesday 2ND May

  I stopped off at Tesco this morning to get another meat bag. There wasn’t any meat in the reduced section so I had to make do with value sausages. I used to get squeamish about eating cheap sausages because every time I chewed a hard bit, I’d imagine it was a lip or an eyelid, but it doesn’t bother me any more. Once you’ve experienced an overwhelming hunger to chew out an Adam’s apple, eating a pig’s eyelid is no big deal.

  I was just about to sneak behind the wheelie bins and eat them when I was hit full in the face by a football.

  I turned round, expecting someone to apologize, but instead I saw Tyson and his friends laughing. He said he’d been expecting me to catch it in my mouth and drop it off at his feet.

  I tried to ignore him, but it didn’t work. I could feel my nails sharpening as my feet morphed into paws. I flung myself behind the bins and frantically rooted around for my iPod.

  I grabbed it from the bottom of my bag, glad that I’d spent the extra £2.99 on a screen protector now that I was handling it with sharp, lupine claws. I stuck the earbuds in and clicked on my relaxation course, even as my fingers were shrinking into stubs.

  I could hear whale song and an American woman telling me I was walking through a forest to a beautiful waterfall. Unfortunately, this was all I heard. My headphones popped out onto the floor as my ears migrated to the top of my head. It was too late. I was no longer the species MP3 players are designed for.

  I threw myself down to the ground, hoping that the wheelie bins would shield me from sight. The last thing I wanted was for all the pupils to notice that there was a werewolf in the school grounds. They were excited enough that time a dog ran in.

  I think I must have stayed in wolf form for three or four minutes. I can remember my wolf mode much more clearly now. My stomach aches with hunger and my thoughts become sluggish and confused like that New Year’s Eve when I tried some of Mum’s Baileys. Smell becomes more important than sight and I’m instantly aware of hundreds of pungent aroma trails.

  The part of my brain that was still human told me to stay behind the bins and keep out of sight before someone called the silver bullet division of Rentokil. But the wolf part of my brain just wanted to get out there and feed. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was a bit like that time I ate that whole packet of Jaffa Cakes I was meant to be emptying into the biscuit tin.

  Just as I was about to pounce out, I shrank back into human form. I wiped the dust from my tracksuit, and stepped back into the playground. A Year Nine boy ran past shouting, ‘Freckle head!’ He’d probably have kept quiet if he’d known just how close he came to being lunch.

  This urge I have to eat humans is wrong. In fact, it’s pretty much the definition of ‘wrong’. There are lots of impulsive urges that people will be happy to help you overcome, but hunger for human flesh isn’t one of them. I’m pretty sure the school counselor doesn’t have a leaflet called ‘So you’re thinking about cannibalism?’

  Thursday 3RD May

  We break up for study leave tomorrow, so we’re having a school trip to Alton Towers today as a treat. Last time we went there, I spent most of the day wandering around the gardens because I was too frightened to go on the rides. But this year I’m going to give them a go. They can hardly be any more scary than turning into a throat-munching beast, can they?

  On second thoughts, going to a theme park in my present condition wasn’t such a smart idea.

  I was having a very enjoyable day at first. I resisted sticking my head out of the coach window on the way there, even though I reckoned the wind would feel good on my face. I’m also pleased to say I resisted joining in when Tyson flicked the Vs at a passing coach of old people. He threatened anyone who didn’t join in with a dead arm, but I ignored him. I already have my insatiable desire for human flesh on my conscience. I don’t want to have upsetting elderly people on there too.

  When we got into the theme park, I followed my classmates onto the log flume and river rapids, which were enjoyable enough. But then Tyson said we should all go on Nemesis before there was a queue. Erica and Amanda opted out, which is exactly what I should have done.

  I got on the ride, pulled the safety harness down over my shoulders and strapped it to the chair. It certainly seemed secure enough.

  As soon as the ride set off I knew I’d made a mistake. The metal rails flung us around blind corners, hurtling us up to the sky one minute and down to the ground the next. I tried to calm myself down, but a speeding rollercoaster isn’t exactly the place for breathing exercises.

  On the final bend, it finally proved too much. My upper body doubled in size, ripping the safety harness off. I was flung twenty feet up in the air and splatted into a tree.

  I thudded down to the floor and got back on my feet. I was now in a quiet wooded area of the park and I’m ashamed to admit I was feeling peckish for throat again. Despite the park’s excellent range of takeaway options, I had a hunger that could only be satisfied by human prey.

  I growled at a group of passing teenagers. They didn’t seem very scared, although one of the girls said I was more convincing than the Frankenstein.

  A few minutes later, I snapped back to human form again and looked around. The area I’d been walking around was called ‘Horror Hollow’, and it featured a man dressed as Frankenstein’s monster discussing football with a man dressed as a zombie. On the bench behind them, there was a man in a werewolf costume reading a copy of the Sun. I was quite pleased I’d been able to cover for someone taking a break, although I doubt he’d have thanked me if I’d eaten those teenagers and he’d been arrested for it.

  When I found my classmates, they were surprised that I was unharmed and said I should sue the park for their faulty safety equipment. None of them mentioned anything about huge flying wolves, so I think I got away with it again.

  Friday 4TH May

  I know I shouldn’t really go back to school while I’m experiencing these violent urges, but today is the last full day of lessons before study leave, so I can’t really miss it.

  As long as I keep my head down and spend lunchtime in the library, I’m sure I can avoid getting nervous or angry and turning wolf.

  Whoops. I did a pretty good job of focusing on my work for most of the day. I even waited for everyone to leave after the final lesson. But just as I was walking out of the gates, I saw that Tyson was still hanging around outside.

  He shouted ‘Gingernut’ at me as I walked past. It wasn’t a very cutting insult, and I’ve heard it hundreds of times before, but it still managed to wind me up.

  I’m a werewolf, I thought. I have superior strength and speed, and yet this feeble human thinks he’s got the right to mock me. I tried to control myself, but it was no use. I ran back towards Tyson as my hand expanded into a paw and then I struck him on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground.

  I hid my paw behind my back as Tyson looked up at me with astonishment. I tried to pretend I’d been swatting a wasp, but it was no use. He got to his feet again and strode towards me with blood trickling down his neck.

  Anyone else would have been frightened about what he’d do to them, but I was more frightened about what I’d do to him. The coppery smell of his blood hit my nostrils and I wanted nothing more than to lap it up.

  I could feel hairs pushing through my skin and I needed to get away. I ran as fast as I could, pushing my legs forward even as they stretched into haunches.

  As soon as I was around the corner, I threw myself into the bin of school dinner scraps. Just as I’d hop
ed, the rotten smells distracted me as I transformed into full wolf form and I quickly forgot all about Tyson.

  Tyson must have run straight past, because he was gone by the time I turned human again and jumped out of the rancid vat.

  Thankfully, Mum was out when I got home, so I didn’t have to explain to her why I’d chosen to marinate myself in macaroni cheese and custard.

  Saturday 5TH May

  I just emailed Ryan to ask if he can start my training right away. I can’t wait until after my exams. My lust for human meat is now so overwhelming that there’s more than just embarrassment at stake. The last thing I want to do is freak out in my history exam and nibble the necks of everyone whose surname falls in the second half of the alphabet.

  I’m pretty sure I can balance training and revision, though. I’ll go round to Lunar Hall in the daytime for wolf lessons, revise in the evenings, then reward myself with twenty minutes of Gran Turismo before bed. Simple.

  I’ve just got back from wolf training. Ryan’s an excellent teacher, but the training was very intense. I’d planned to revise the reactivity of metals tonight, but I’m so exhausted I can hardly see my science textbook.

  I turned up at Lunar Hall just after ten, and Ryan put me straight back in the manacles. This time I was happy to let him do it, as I knew I needed to be restrained for my own safety.

  The first thing Ryan did was apologize. I asked him what for and he gave me the worst Chinese burn I’ve experienced in my life. Immediately, I felt my snout extend and my backbone wrench up.