Secret Life

Paul is the most important person in my life. My lover, my best friend, and as of yesterday my fiancé. I met him five years ago in college and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

We both got a job in New York City after college, me in finance and Paul in the travel industry. Paul’s job has him traveling all over the world, but when he’s in New York City we spend as much time as possible together.

I love him more than life itself. He is the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person I have ever met. He said he loved me too, but whenever the subject of marriage would come up, he would say he’s not the marrying kind.

After five years I couldn’t take it any more, and although I knew it would break my heart, I told him with tears in my eyes that I was leaving him.

He got down on one knee, right there and then, pulled a ring out of his pocket and proposed, telling me that he couldn’t live without me, and if marriage was that important to me, then he would happily marry me. I cried some more, this time in joy, and said yes, hugging and kissing him like we would never see each other again.

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I was having trouble concentrating at work, thinking about how wonderful yesterday had been, replaying Paul’s proposal over and over in my mind. I had to work late because it was tax season and by the time I got out of work it was getting dark. Me and Paul weren’t getting together tonight, but I couldn’t wait to see him again, so I decided to just go over to his place and surprise him.

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It was dark when I arrived at his place, the moon just coming up over the horizon. Paul lived in a two-story townhouse in the West Village, and when I knocked on his door and rang the bell there was no answer. I was just about to leave when I heard a crash of something hitting the floor inside.

“Paul…. Paul…. are you okay?” I yelled through the door. There was no answer and I became concerned, so I used the key he had given me and opened the door. I heard movement upstairs and called out.

“Paul, it’s me Sara, are you alright?”

Still no answer, so I went up the stairs and opened the bedroom door. There was Paul by the window, bent over as if in pain, the moonlight streaming into the room illuminating it.

“Paul?”

He turned toward me, pain and sadness in his eyes. When he saw me, his expression turned to panic and fear, and in a strangled voice he cried out to me.

“RUN SARA!”

Then he doubled over in pain again and let out a tortured cry, and his body began to change. His hands and arms elongating, claws emerging and growing. His body and legs stretching and growing as well, massive muscle groups stretching his clothes to the limit, the shirt ripping off of him and his pants tearing in places. Dark brown fur growing rapidly all over his body. I could see Paul’s face from the side elongating into a snout and fangs growing, fur starting to cover his face as well. I stood there in shock not believing what I was seeing.

Then he turned and looked at me, and Paul was not there anymore. The eyes were red and feral, drool dripping from the beasts fangs, a primal hunger evident on it’s monstrous face.

I turned and ran down the stairs, out of the house and into the street. I heard a bloodcurdling howl and the crash of shattered glass as the werewolf leapt out the second story window, landing on all fours on the sidewalk to my right.

There was a couple walking there with their young daughter. The wife screamed, the werewolf slashing out at the husband, it’s claws ripping open his throat, blood spraying everywhere. Then with the return stroke of it’s forelimb, striking the wife in the chest, throwing her twenty feet through the air. She landed unconscious, the werewolf prowling toward her to finish the job.

The daughter, who was around ten, stood there in shock, unable to move. I ran over to her, grabbing her by the arm.

“We have to go,” I screamed at her, yanking her out of her trance.

We ran across the street and into Luigi’s Italian Restaurant. I slammed the door and locked it, pulling down the shades.

“What’s are you doing,” cried the hostess.

“BE QUIET!” I demanded, “and turn out the lights. There’s a…. murderer outside whose just killed two people!”

The hostess face turned white and the patrons dining in the restaurant became quiet, eyes wide with shock and fear. The hostess turned out the lights, the patrons hiding under their tables or quietly crawling back toward the kitchen.

I handed the girl off to the hostess who was crouched down in a corner near the front of the restaurant.

“Watch her and call 911,” I said quietly. She nodded and took the girl in her arms.

I inched toward the front door and gently pulled back the shade just enough so I could see outside. Nothing was moving, no sign of the werewolf anywhere. Across the street on the sidewalk, the crumpled body of the husband lay in a pool of blood. I scanned the area of grass behind him, but the body of the wife was nowhere to be seen.

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A few minutes later, sirens could be heard approaching and the police arrived. They cordoned off the area, questioning everyone at the scene, and a nice woman from child protective services took the girl into custody until relatives could be found.

She was still a mess, her eyes glazed over, not speaking to anyone. I assured her that she would be safe with them until her relatives were found.

Since I was a direct witness to the murder, they asked me to come downtown for an interview.

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I was sitting in a small room with a table and a couple of chairs. A plain clothes detective came into the room and sat down in the chair on the other side of the table from me.

“Miss Hanson…. Sara Hanson?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Detective O’Reilly. I understand that you were a witness to the murder?”

“Yes, I was there when it happened,” my voice shaking a little as I spoke.

“Could you describe to me exactly what you saw?”

“Well, I was crossing the street when I saw a man confront a couple walking with their daughter. He had a knife or something and attacked the husband.” Tears started flowing down my cheeks and I got choked up, unable to continue.

“Take your time Miss Hanson, I know this is difficult, but it’s important that you recall everything you can.”

“Okay, sorry….. Then the wife screamed and the man attacked her, but she managed to back away from him, and as he was pursuing her, I grabbed the young girl and we ran across the street and into Luigi’s Italian Restaurant. We stayed there until the police arrived.”

“Can you describe the man to me?”

“He was tall, well over six feet, and large, broad at the shoulders. He was wearing tennis shoes, jeans and a brown sweatshirt.”

“Did you get a look at his face or his hair?”

“No, he was wearing a mask or head covering of some sort, dark brown.”

We talked for another two hours as Detective O’Reilly pressed me for details on every moment from that evening. When he was finally satisfied, I left the police station and went home, mentally and physically exhausted.

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As I was falling asleep, all I could think about was the horrifying image of Paul turning into that creature. He was not the man I thought he was, he was a terrifying murdering beast…. a werewolf.

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The next morning I got up and went to work, not knowing what else to do. I was still shell-shocked and numb, unable to concentrate on anything. Then at lunchtime, I got a phone call from Paul. I stared at my phone in horror. It rang and it rang, and for some unknown reason, I answered it.

“Hello,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Sara, it’s me Paul, please don’t hang up,” he pleaded. I stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

“I’m glad to hear your voice and that you’re all right” he began. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I…. I thought I had it under control, that the transformations had stopped” he added quickly.

“Paul, you killed two people,” I cried.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” said Paul almost weeping. “I don’t remember anything after I transform, and then I just wake up the next morning somewhere, wondering what horrible things I had done.”

“Paul, how long have you been like this, were you transforming into this…. this creature when we met in college?”

“No…. of course not. I’ve been taking this potion that a biochemist friend of mine developed that suppresses the transformation. It’s been over ten years since the last time I changed.”

“Then what happened,” sobbed Sara, “I saw you turn into a werewolf last night and kill those people.”

“I know,” said Paul utterly defeated, “my friend said that my body might build up a resistance to the potion over time and it might stop working. But it had been ten years! Ten years! I was beginning to believe it was permanent and I could live a normal life.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Sara.

“I have to go see my friend,” said Paul, and hope he can modify the formula so that it works again.”

“I’m going to go with you,” Sara blurted out.

“NO…. you can’t,” insisted Paul. It’s much to dangerous for you to be around me now, and besides, my biochemist friend is in Romania.”

“Romania! You’re leaving and going to Romania. When will you be back?”

“I…. I don’t know. It may take some time to develop the new formula.”

We both were silent for a while as the weight of our current situation sunk in.

“Paul!” I gasped suddenly, “there’s another full moon tonight!”

“Yes, I know,” said Paul. “If I can just get through tonight without hurting anyone else, I can leave for Romania tomorrow.”

“How? What will you do?”

“I have an idea, but I need your help. Can you meet me later this afternoon?”

“Of course Paul.”

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We drove into Nissequogue River State Park in Long Island and parked the car. It was late afternoon and the sun was just starting to dip behind the trees throwing long eerie shadows throughout the park grounds. The abandoned Kings Park Psychiatric Center Building 93 loomed tall and imposing like a haunted mansion, doors and windows boarded up.

We circled the building finding some loose boards on a window where we could gain access, probably used by teenagers and drug addicts in the area. We searched throughout the building and on a lower level we found a reinforced room with no windows. The door had a heavy duty deadbolt and sturdy brackets on both sides of the door frame where a metal bar could be dropped in place.

“This should hold me when I transform tonight,” said Paul. We searched the floors and found a heavy metal bar that would fit in the brackets. It was getting near dusk as we finished our preparations.

“Sara, after you secure the door, I want you to go home and get some sleep. I’ll be secure here tonight and in the morning you can come back and let me out.”

“I’m scared Paul. What if it doesn’t hold you?”

“It will,” Paul said forcefully. I hugged and kissed him and we held on to each other for a few more minutes.

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Paul entered the room and I closed the heavy metal door, securing the deadbolt and dropping the metal bar in place. I then left the building the way we had come in and got in the car.

I drove to the edge of the park and parked on one of the residential streets of Kings Park hamlet where I could see Building 93. I was too nervous to go home and sleep and decided to just hang out here and keep an eye on things.

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It was well after dark, the moon had risen, and everything was quiet in the neighborhood and in the park. The dark silhouette of Building 93 casting ominous shadows in the moonlight. I was dozing off when I thought I saw movement near the edge of the building. Nothing, and then I saw five or six figures moving around to the back of the building. Oh my god! If they opened the door to the room Paul was in.

I got out of the car and frantically ran toward the building. I circled to the back and the loose board over the window was on the ground. I went inside and made my way to the lower level where Paul was. When I arrived, the door was still secure and no one was is sight. I sat down against the wall opposite the door to keep watch.

A little while later I heard voices and a group of teenagers rounded the corner.

“Hey guys, look at the door, it’s bolted and barred. I wonder what’s behind it?”

“Get out of here now you punks, or I’m calling the police,” I yelled. I startled them for a moment and they stepped back. One of them shone a flashlight on me.

“Hey lady,” said one of the larger boys, “maybe you’re the one who should leave.”

Just then, there was a loud crashing sound, wood splintering, metal screeching, as the door hinges bent outward. Then another thundering crash, the deadbolt and bar brackets coming out of the wall.

“RUN!” I shrieked.

The teens didn’t any more encouragement. They bolted back around the corner and I took off in the opposite direction down the hall. With the next deafening crash the door flew open and the werewolf emerged, a loud piercing howl echoing throughout the building.

I ran, not looking back, up the stairs and around to the open window I had come in. I climbed out the window, the teens already sprinting across the park to the neighborhood beyond. A squad car patrolling the area noticed the commotion, several people running from the off limits Psychiatric Center Building 93 and drove into the park with their spotlight on to investigate.

“Stop right there,” ordered one of the officers over the PA system as the spotlight fell on me. I stopped in my tracks. The squad car halted and the officers emerged from the vehicle.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of sound behind me, wood splintering, board and window frame pieces flying everywhere as the werewolf burst forth from the building. The police shone the spotlight at the building and onto a seven foot tall heavily muscled massive werewolf.

I took off running for my car, the officers drawing their weapons, clearly distressed.

“Stop right there,” one of them cried out. The werewolf bellowed a thunderous cry in challenge, bared it’s fangs, and charged them. The policemen opened fire striking the werewolf several times, but still it came on. They instinctively got behind the squad car and kept firing, the bullets not even slowing it down.

The massive werewolf hit the squad car at full speed, smashing in the side of the vehicle, the force throwing the officers ten feet through the air. They landed on the ground stunned. The werewolf stalked around the demolished squad car toward the downed officers.

Suddenly, a loud car alarm started going off down the block and the werewolf’s monstrous head turned in that direction, and then, it charged off toward the sound.

The policemen shakily started getting to their feet, one of them calling for backup on his handheld radio. Last thing I wanted was to be involved in a violent incident two nights in a row, so I got in my car and drove off quietly with my lights off.

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I hardly slept that night, worrying about Paul, having horrible nightmares about what he was doing as a werewolf. Finally morning arrived, and after breakfast I texted and tried calling Paul on the phone several times. He didn’t answer the phone, or return any of my texts, so I decided to go over to his place.

When I arrived at his townhouse he wasn’t there, and there was no sign that he’d been back since last night. I was really starting to worry about Paul, but there was nothing else I could do, so I went to work.

More phone calls and text messages went unanswered and then midday I got a text message from Paul.

‘Sara, I woke up in a park this morning. The beast in me broke free somehow, and I can only image the horrible things I did last night. Right now, I am on my way to Romania to see my friend for help. I didn’t return your calls or texts, because I knew I couldn’t refuse to see you, if I heard your voice. God, I love you so much, and this hurts so bad, but it’s the only way. I love you too much to ever put you in danger again by being around me. I hope you understand and that someday you will forgive me. Love you always. Paul.’

I started crying and couldn’t stop. I loved Paul with all my heart. He was the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person I have ever met, but he was also a monstrous murderous werewolf. I only hoped that someday he would find peace.

‘Love you always too Paul.’