I’m Sorry, Mr. West


Mr. West, you’re going to kill me. I know it. Wait a minute; let me tell you what happened.

I was on Mills Road , getting ready to cross over on the bridge. I had the headlights on. I saw something flash past me where the side of the road meets the woods.

You know, I thought it was a dog. I saw feral eyes, reflecting the light. I had the windows up; I shouldn’t have been able to hear a thing. But I swore I did hear it.

A growl.


I sped up a little bit as I entered the bridge.

Well, that there is when it happened.

The inside of that tunnel was dark, and tonight, even the headlights seemed not to cut through it.

I felt the impact…the windshield cracked but did not break. That scream, I’ll remember for the rest of my life. I have never heard nothing like it..

I realize it was wrong to keep going. I stopped once I cleared the bridge and had gone down the road a piece. I had to get somewhere I could see.

I got out my flashlight and a blanket my wife keeps in the trunk. And I took my gun. I’m not sure why, but in these parts a man is going to reckon he’ll need a gun more often than not.

I saw him, just before I got to the bridge.

It was your son Johnny, Mr. West.

All bloody he was, and naked as the day he was born. I thanked god I had that blanket, the boy was shivering so. It struck me as odd he’d be naked, but he was hurt bad.

So I put that blanket over him. I wanted to move him, but I was afraid that it might make things worse. They tell you if someone has broken bones you can hurt ‘em bad if you twist them, pull them the wrong way. I figured I’d done enough damage already.

And then I remembered. I left that damn cell phone in the car.

I just stood there, starting to lose it. Could I risk going back to the car? What if somebody hit him? It’s a lonely road, but you never know. One of the Remus brothers might come rolling through, drunk as hell, and hit poor Johnny.

You and I both know, Mr. West, a drunk Remus ain’t stopping for nobody.

I was just trying to get this figured out when it happened.

Sweet Jesus, the boy was screaming, and now he was trembling. And right before my very eyes, he started to change. His limbs were getting… longer. His body was darkening with hair…. I saw his face change, change into something not human. It was something with teeth. Something with claws…

He stood, and when he did, he was a good two feet above me. You know, I ain’t no little man. And I have never had to look up at something like that before.

He growled again, this time loud enough to almost burst my eardrum.


I swear, Mr. West, I have been a hunter all my life, from the time I was knee high to my daddy’s riffle. I pulled the gun out and I shot him.

He kept coming at me, I kept shooting him.

Now, I apologize for them silver bullets, Mr. West. That’s my wife Louise’s fault. She heard all the stories about us having Wolves around here, I had no idea she’d changed out my regular shells for silver bullets.

I understand if it had been regular bullets it would put him down for a bit and

he’d have healed up just fine by morning. I swear I’m sorry about Johnny, I didn’t mean to harm your boy, he was a good kid.”

“You said it,” the werewolf groaned. “Johnny was a good boy. Don’t fret, my other sons aren’t home yet. I ’m not greedy” the werewolf said, slavering. “We believe in sharing.”


Copyright 2008, Lori Titus


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