WOLF BOY

Missing necklace

Callahan fought for air, grabbing at his throat where one of the wolves had violently clawed at him. His once smooth face was grotesquely disfigured by horrific claw marks, and the flesh was ripped and shredded. A precious heirloom necklace he wore had fallen undone during the battle and was now lying in the mud. Callahan gasped for air, his lips full of blood.

But, just as his eyes began to droop and blur into darkness, they reopened without warning, shining yellow with a mysterious radiance similar to the wolves.

Callahan let out a deep growl as shaggy mutton chops grew out of his bloody face. The wolves shook in terror and amazement at this abrupt shift, trapped between terror and amazement.

A shimmering, silvery mask began to materialize on Callahan's face, spiralling and intertwining with his features. It was as if an ancient and mysterious force had taken hold of him, replacing his humanity with a wild and uncontrollable strength.

Feral and uncontrollable, Callahan Roared!

The sound resonated throughout the woodland. The wolves cowered in fright as they were taken aback by the ferocity and intensity radiating from Callahan's altered form.

With a roar, he lunged forward, his fingers wrapping around one of the Wolves neck. Surprisingly strong, he flung the wolf away, causing it to tumble through the undergrowth, its howls piercing the night air.

But the second wolf remained undeterred, circling him with bared teeth and a snarl, a fierce determination evident in its eyes. Callahan's heart raced as he prepared for round two, taking a deep breath before launching himself forward and delivering a powerful punch that reverberated through his entire body.

Watching in shock and awe, Callahan observed as the wolf was sent flying, colliding with and breaking through vines before bouncing off the ground. Panting and gasping for breath, he stood there, the adrenaline of battle dissipating as quickly as it had come.

"Run away, Wolfie," he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. The wolves cowered before him, retreating into the shadows.

As Callahan brushed away the dirt and leaves from his clothes, he was taken aback to discover that his wounds were healing before his very eyes. The pain in his neck and back diminished, the flesh knitting back together until no traces of injury remained. His appearance had returned to normal.

Bewildered, he took off running, his feet pounding against the forest floor. With his heart racing, he felt a surge of energy coursing through him, propelling him forward with vigour.

Finally coming to a halt as he emerged from the trees into a moonlit clearing, Callahan stood gasping for breath. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Was he invincible? He struggled to comprehend the events he had just experienced, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed answers. He had to understand how all of this was possible.

Walking through the glade, the darkness surrounding him like a shroud, his mind dwelled on the recent events. Part of him couldn't shake the feeling that it had all been nothing more than a disturbing dream, but the torn remnants of his clothes and the tender spots on his neck and back argued otherwise. Rubbing his hands over the unblemished skin, he felt relief and unease that refused to dissipate.

Suddenly, he jolted, his fingers gripping his neck for a necklace. Panic seized him as he realized it was gone, and fear mingled with shame as he pictured the disapproving look his mother would give him when he told her.

"The necklace," he whispered breathlessly into the darkness.

Disappointment wracked his body like a tempestuous wave, assaulting him with a force he couldn't fight back. He struggled to keep the recent events from slipping from his mind as he contemplated the difficult conversation that awaited him with his mother.

She had been a nagging presence in his life, often reminding him to never take the pendant off his neck. Her words had been like a drumbeat in his mind, reminding him of his duty to keep the pendant safe.

He remembered the days when, for reasons he couldn't quite grasp, he had taken off the pendant, inciting his mother's fear and frustration. It had become a point of contention in their relationship, leaving him both afraid and curious about its significance.

He had tried asking her what it meant, but she had dodged his questions with practiced ease. It left him wondering—always wondering—about the true meaning behind the necklace.

Despite his curiosity, he never dared remove the necklace, not wanting to incur his mother's wrath. But now, as he traversed the familiar path back to home, he was faced with an even more daunting task.

He had lost the necklace.

The air was thick with the weight of his mistake as he stood outside his mother's house. The humidity seemed to wrap around him like a shroud, nearly suffocating him. Sweat poured down his face as he tightened his grip on the brass knocker, his knuckles turning white. He knew that his mother's disappointment and anger would be unbearable.

"I can't let her find out," he whispered to himself, struggling to hear his own words over the thumping of his heart.

A memory flashed through his mind, causing a mischievous grin to spread across his face. He recalled the time he had crafted an identical locket to the one his mother had given him years ago. He had worn it without her knowledge until she eventually discovered the prank, leading to a heap of trouble. But now, that old trick could be his salvation.

"It will only be for one night," he mused quietly, promising himself that he would return to the woods the next day to retrieve the genuine locket.

Entering the house, familiar scents of home enveloped him. He treaded lightly, praying his mother wouldn't detect the sound of his footsteps.

Navigating the creaking wooden floorboards, he tiptoed to his room. The soft swish of fabric filled the air as he rummaged through his closet, desperately searching for the wooden box he had stashed away. The cool touch of the box beneath his fingers provided a soothing sensation, prompting a quiet sigh of relief before he lifted the lid.

Inside the box was the imitation locket. Its smooth silver surface glistened in the dim light. His heart throbbed with a mix of excitement and apprehension as he swiftly fastened the necklace around his neck, feeling the chilly metal against his skin.

Discarding his worn-out clothes, he admired the crisp fabric of his new attire. Adjusting his jacket and collar, he made certain every detail was impeccable. His pulse raced as he confronted his reflection, scrutinizing himself from every angle. Perfection was imperative if he hoped to deceive his mother.

BEDTIME