Tuesday, July 29, 2014



Title: No Longer A Victim.
By Ryan N. Nolte

I swore to myself that I would never let the nightmarish experience of that night happen again.  The next day I stole the sharpest knife I could find in the kitchen and hid it under my pillow.  The night he came back, it was his blood and not mine that stained the sheets in the dead of night.

Saturday, February 22, 2014



Song: Bad Moon Rising 

Artist: Creedence Clearwater Revival

Bad Moon Rising
By Ryan N. Nolte

“Gunny get your team ready.”  Crackled out of the intercom speaker positioned in the ceiling of the trailer.  The trailer occupants shook as the eighteen wheeler hit a pot hole as it sped north, up interstate seventy-nine.

The four people sitting on the benches lining the walls of the trailer were decked out in black tactical gear.  The leader reached above his head to activate the intercom.

“Roger, switching to radio comms.”  Gunny replied.

“Two minutes. Check your gear. Condition One the minute you’re out the door.  Any questions?” Gunny asked.

“How many Gunny?” asked Abel.

“Intel said just one mutt.” replied Gunny.

“Not a full blood one?”  Abel asked.

“They implied it was freshly turned.” said Gunny.

“We putting the Rook on point for her first mission?” Bravo sniggered.

Abel snorted. “She’d probably do better than you fuck face.” 

The eighteen wheeler slowed down on a curved embankment leaving the interstate. Not long after there was a jolt. The brakes hissed and squeaked bringing the trailer to a halt.

“You ready Rook?” asked Gunny.

The pale blonde girl nodded. “Yes Gunny.”

Something creepy about this chick.”  thought Gunny.  “Whatever.  Everyone in this biz has a few screws loose.”

“Dibs on the teeth.” Abel said yanking back on the bolt of his AA-12.

The others followed suit.  Gunny walked to the back of the trailer and hauled open the heavy bolt sealing the doors.

“Bravo on point, Rook, then me.  Abel on rearguard.”  Gunny shoved the heavy doors open. He jumped to the pavement and the others followed.  They quickly sorted themselves into a tactical formation.

“Head for that bridge up the road.  Intel says its in the farmhouse on the other side of the creek.”  Gunny told Bravo.

A muddy yellow hunter’s moon was high in the sky illuminating the country highway. In the distance, the team could make out a small bridge that crossed a creek that ran parallel to the highway.  A lone orange porch light marked the farm house that was their target.

“We gonna try to sneak up on it? Or should I just take us straight across the bridge?”  Bravo asked over the radio.

“Right across the bridge.  We’re going to make this quick.  It doesn’t know what it is.  So it won’t realize there are people like us... to take care of it.”  Gunny replied.

They could smell the rot coming from the house halfway across the bridge.  Window shutters hung crookedly from broken hinges.  The grass around the house was knee high and doing its best to encroach upon the road.

The rotten stairs of the wooden porch creaked as the team crept up them.  The summer air was humid. Mosquitoes and moths buzzed around the cracked porch light.

The team stacked up against the wall to the left side of the door.  Next to him, Gunny realized that Rook was shaking.

“Easy Rook, take a deep breath.”  Gunny whispered.

Rook nodded and took a deep breath.  Seeing her visibly relax, Gunny nodded to Abel motioning for him to get into position to blast the door lock. 

“Weapons free. Time to hunt.” Gunny whispered to the team.

Abel positioned his shotgun on the plate just above the door knob.  Abel pulled the trigger and the lock disintegrated.  Abel followed with a swift kick, blasting the door inward.  The team dashed into the living room looking for movement.

“Clear” Bravo said.

Gunny gave the hand signals for Abel and Bravo to check the upstairs and then motioned for Rook to follow him to clear the rest of the ground floor.  Rook was breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush.

The house smelled of mildew and was in desperate need of a heavy bleaching.  The disgusting nature of the house didn’t really bother Gunny.  What really bothered him was the smell coming from what looked like the kitchen.

The smell of rotting corpses was always a bad sign.  The kitchen door was one of those that didn’t have a door jam but had a spring setup up that returned it to a closed position.  Using his left hand Gunny pushed open the door.

What was left of a man and a woman were splattered across the tiled floor.

Furniture crashed on the second floor.  The roar of an AA-12 emptying its drum quickly followed.  Gunny and Rook rushed towards the stairs.

There was a snarl and the gun fire stopped.

“Abel? Bravo? Answer me damn it!” Gunny called over the radio.

Gunny reached the foot of the stairwell as something black and furry leapt down the stairs driving him into the ground.  Gunny desperately grabbed the thing by the throat to keep its snapping teeth from ripping his face off.  It slashed with its claws tearing the flesh on his arms and chest. Blood splattered the cheap floral wall paper.

“ROOK! Shoot the fucking thing! Rook!”  Gunny screamed.

Gunny screamed in agony as the thing shook free of his grip and sank its fangs into his forearm.

Gunny’s scream of agony had startled Rook into action.  She shouldered her shotgun and held the trigger down sending a stream of heavy silver slugs into the werewolf.  The impacts from the multiple slugs sent it crashing into the wall.

“FUCK.  Took you long enough Rook.”  Gunny panted.

Rook was staring at the bite marks on Gunny’s arm.

The color drained from Gunny’s face when he realized where she was looking. Panic crept into his voice.

“Now hold on Rook... I probably won’t turn!  Let get me back to the trailer and talk to command.  I’m sure they got something...”  Gunny started to edge himself towards his fallen shotgun.

Rook blasted two silver slugs into his chest cavity near his heart. Putting a stop to his desperate crawl.

“Sorry Gunny, you know the rules.”  Rook said as she leaned down and closed Gunny’s eyes.  

Rook keyed her radio. “Requesting a cleaner team.  Werewolf threat removed.”

The radio crackled “Roger, return to transport.”