03 Jan

Werewolves on the Bayou Part Two

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part FivePart Six, Part SevenPart Eight

It was an alligator. The thing was quick too because it snapped up at me and I barely got my leg out of the way in time. I almost took my axe and swung it down at it but in reality it was a just a creature trying to live its life.

The alligator kept hissing at me and slowly stalked toward me. I could see behind the motel there was a swamp and I assumed that is where it came from. I couldn’t just let it wander around the town and attack anyone. As it snapped at me again I jumped out of the way and grabbed it by the tail. I dragged it back to the swamp and threw it in. Why couldn’t I have ended up in the town 50 miles back? It was so much nicer and alligator free, I think.

I ventured back towards what I would call the center of the town and thought about what I was going to do. I had nowhere to spend the night and I was going to have to stay in the town to see if there was a werewolf. There wasn’t enough time for me to go looking for a place because it was only a few hours until dark and the closest town was too far to get back in time. It didn’t matter, though. I was going to make sure that the werewolf would be dead by the end of the night.

There was a store that looked like it acted as a restaurant as well so I decided to venture in and see if I could get something to eat. I had to hope that the whole town wasn’t credit card free.

When I walked through the door my attention was immediately drawn to the man behind the counter. He looked completely out of place. He wore a nice collared, button-up shirt with clean jeans and his hair looked like it had gel or something. The man clearly took care of himself and he had a full set of teeth. What I found most interesting about him was that when he noticed me he seemed thoroughly surprised. I’m sure he was just as shocked to see a normal person as I was.

I walked up to the counter.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi,” he replied with a smile. He didn’t have a southern accent. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for something to eat.”

“Try the tuna sandwich. It’s good.”

“Do you take card?”


“Alright. I’ll take one of those.”

“Be right up.”

He walked away to start making my much-needed sandwich.

“So what brings you down here?” he asked me.

“Traveling,” I told him.

“Kind of far off your way?”

“Not really. I’m just passing through.”

He laughed. “No one ever comes through here. Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere really. Just kind of traveling around the country.”

“You coming from the east coast?”

“Yeah.” He sure did have a lot of questions but I’m sure he wasn’t used to seeing too many strange faces.

“I’m from the east coast myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

He handed me my finished sandwich.

“What do you do for a living?” he asked me.

I didn’t want to tell him the whole truth but I figured I could give him half. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

He didn’t seem intimated nor was he skeptical. “A little young for that aren’t we?”

“I’m old enough.”

“How do your parents feel about that?” It almost seemed like that was meant to hurt me.

The bell on the door rang as someone entered. It looked like the Sherriff and a deputy. I could only guess that they were here for me.

They both walked right up to me.

“I hear you were out by the hotel earlier?” the sheriff asked me.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“You aware it’s illegal to throw gators?”

I turned to face him. “You’re kidding me, right?” I didn’t realize anyone was watching me. Oops.

“’Fraid not, city boy.” They loved to call me that. I’m not even from a city.

“My mistake then.”

“I’m ‘fraid yer comin’ wit me.”

This is not how I wanted this trip to go…

Werewolves on the Bayou: Part Two

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Posted by on January 3, 2014 in Werewolves on the Bayou


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