“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m at ___ boulevard. Only house out here. There’s someone outside my house.” I wanted to thank him for giving me the address without asking.
“Okay, how long have they been there?”
“Uh… an hour?”
I hummed, trying not to judge them for taking an hour to call someone in their situation. “I see, sir,” I replied, “where are they in relation to your house?”
“…Uh, hard to say.”
“Why’s that?”
“I can’t see them right now, but I know they’re out there. They keep moving. Damn, they are fast.”
“Okay, so, what are they-“
“Fuck me!”
“Sir? What happened?”
“Bastard just ran past the window!”
“Can you describe them?”
“Big. Real big. And hairy… not wait… shit, I think they were covered in fur.”
Probably a coat. “Can you describe the fur?”
“Like a dog or coyote or- oh. Oh shit, I know what this is.”
“What is it?”
“You aren’t going to believe me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s… like I said, you aren’t going to believe me, but it’s a werewolf.”
Oh great. Someone’s on drugs.
“You’re sure it’s a werewolf?” I said, already adding that the caller may be on a substance to the dispatch.
“Look, I know it’s hard to believe but this part of the woods… there’s an old legend, about a family of werewolves. I never believed it, but that thing was just- that was huge!”
There was silence as the man on the other end began panting. It sounded like he’d taken the phone from his ear.
“Sir?” I said, trying to get his attention. “Sir?”
There was a shuffling sound in the static and then he spoke. “I was just checking the backyard. Damn thing is out there, I can see his eyes. They’re glowing yellow in the dark. Gotta be at least eight feet off the ground, I can see the outline from here, it’s- it’s just watching me.”
“Okay, the police are on their way now, keep an eye on-“
I was cut off by an ear-piercing howl that burst through my headset. I winced, hands grabbing at my ears.
The man was yelling something. “Did you hear that?! Did you fucking hear that?”
I gulped before answering. “Uh, yes sir, I did. What… was that the-“
“No,” the man’s voice was quivering, “that thing didn’t move. Aw Christ, I think the whole family’s coming!”
“Are you saying there may be more than-“
“Whole family of werewolves, coming right at my house,” the man was muttering, “shit, shit, shit, damn it, where’s the silver?!” I could hear him rummaging. “Shit!”
“Sir, police are on their way now. Please, stay indoors and don’t go outside.”
“No shit, Sherlock, I-“
Another howl, joined by an entire chorus of them.
“Oh God, they’re here. Shit! There’s… there’s so fucking many of them! At least a dozen! They’re just busting out of the woods, like, shit, they’re huge!”
I was already adding to the dispatch that more units would be needed. I was already positive something else was going on here, most likely, a bunch of teenagers pulling a mean prank.
“Sir, get away from the window-“
“Wait, they’ve stopped. One of them’s coming closer… there’s something in its jaws- oh dear Lord have mercy.”
“Sir, what is the werewolf-“
“It’s a dress. It’s a little girl’s dress.” I could hear him shaking.
Dear God. If this was a prank it had gone way too far.
“Sir, can you describe the dress?”
The man didn’t answer.
“Sir?”
Then he began to sob. “Oh God… God have mercy, I know who’s dress that is.” His sobbing turned into anguished cries. “Oh Jesus,” he wailed, “oh sweet Jesus, I… I know who’s dress that is.”
“Who’s dress, sir?”
“She… she was a little blonde girl. Just ran out in the middle of the road, I would have used the brakes, I swear, I was… I tried to stop, I swear, I just, I didn’t mean to keep going, I-I haven’t touched anything since, not one bottle, I swear!” The man broke down. “Damn it, it was an accident, I swear!”
I’d already pieced together what he’d done. My heart felt like stone as it sunk in. I rubbed my face.
Then the man began screaming. His voice was fainter but still piercing. He’d lowered the phone again, but his voice was so loud it felt like he was right next to me.
“What do you want?! You wanna kill me?! Fine! Go ahead, get it over with, you bastards, just do it! Just kill me! I don’t care! It won’t bring her back, will it? Nothing’s gonna bring her back! God, nothing’s gonna…” Then he began to wail. “Oh God, just kill me…”
The man kept crying, even after the phone clattered to the ground alongside a loud thud. When the front door opened, I tensed, then relaxed when I heard someone declare themselves as police. That was when I hung up.
A week after, I was summoned to give testimony concerning a hit-and-run that had taken place in rural Michigan. Terry Wright confessed to police he’d been driving while intoxicated and struck a girl on some lonely backwoods, he couldn’t remember which. The only evidence they had was a white dress found in his backyard, which he swore belonged to the girl. Police searched the roads, but no body was found anywhere. Not even a trace of blood. I gave a full transcript of what had transpired, from start to finish. When I got to the part about the howls, the atmosphere in the court room changed visibly. Before, there’d been a professional air. After it, there was a sense of unease, like someone had opened a window and let in something from outside.
I thought that man would be declared insane, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was sent to a psyche ward for intensive care. It was concluded he’d suffered an intense mental breakdown and was a danger to himself. They put down what he’d seen to hallucinations brought on by his age and the trauma a perceived hit and run.
I’m not sure what Terry Wright saw the night he went mad, but honestly? Part of me does wonder about the howls I’d heard that night. Those angry, grieving howls. I wonder how they were produced. Someone had to have made them.
After another week, I was able to get my hands on the police report. What I found only deepened the mystery, for me anyway.
Terry Wright was the only person on his property when police arrived. They found him in a state, unable to say anything except how sorry he was. Nobody could trace who the dress belonged to. It had been handmade, so there were no tags to find out who had manufactured it. Testing revealed traces of human and wolf DNA. Attempts to match the human DNA have failed. Various tracks, determined to be from a large mammal, were found in his yard. In total, it was estimated there were over eight or more individuals present.
Now, you’d probably assume that I believe it was werewolves, but I’m not convinced. Until I see a werewolf for myself, I won’t believe they exist. My conclusion is simple; someone had faked all this as an elaborate ploy to break Terry Wright, for reasons I don’t understand and never will. I’ll be the first to admit there’s problems with this theory. If this was all a ploy, then someone went to a lot of trouble to make someone confess to killing a girl who, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t seem to exist.