Chereads / Full Moon Night: The Werewolf Legend / Chapter 3 - The Origin of the Legend

Chapter 3 - The Origin of the Legend

The wolf's howl sliced through Alger's thoughts like a bolt of lightning. It was deep and distant, as if it came from the far-off mountains, cutting through the air and striking deep into his soul. Alger involuntarily took a step back, a torrent of questions flooding his mind. That sound... it was so real, as if it was echoing right by his ear, yet it felt like it came from the depths of ancient memories. At that moment, Alger's heart raced, and he could almost feel an indescribable fear creeping over his entire body.

He turned around and quickly walked toward his cottage. His footsteps echoed sharply in the quiet night, each step seeming to pound against his fragile nerves. The howl kept reverberating in his mind, mingling with the old legends of the village. Those ancient stories, which he had once thought to be mere superstitions, were now beginning to shake his convictions. They had been tales meant to frighten children, stories the villagers told to scare them into obedience. Yet, now, at this moment, his inner peace wavered.

"On the night of the full moon, the wolf's shadow returns." He remembered Mary mentioning this phrase during one of their walks. Her words had been light, but they carried an unmistakable warning. The older villagers often spoke of how, on full moon nights, strange noises could be heard deep within the forest, as though a pack of wolves was on the prowl. At these times, some families would shut their doors and windows tightly, not daring to let their children play outside.

Alger furrowed his brow, filled with confusion and conflict. Science could not explain such mysterious phenomena, and as a doctor, he was expected to remain calm and rational, to dismiss these superstitions and rumors. Yet tonight's howl made him question whether there was some force we could not understand, lurking deep in the forest, waiting for the right moment to strike.

He suddenly stopped, turning to look at the distant forest. Moonlight bathed it in a silver glow, making it appear both mysterious and desolate. The trees stood like massive sculptures, silently awaiting something.

"What's really going on?" Alger murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the dark woods. Ever since he arrived in Filda Village, he had begun to notice odd occurrences. The older villagers, every full moon night, would quietly talk in the dim light of the streetlamps, their words laced with a fear and vigilance that couldn't be hidden. They never explicitly mentioned werewolves or curses, but the look in their eyes, the tone in their voices, always unsettled him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

Thinking back to when he first heard the wolf's howl, he had assumed it was just the sound of wild beasts in the mountains. But tonight, as the howl echoed again, he felt something different. That sense of unreality, that feeling that defied logic, made the whole village feel as though it had suddenly frozen, and the world around him had become blurry.

For some reason, Alger suddenly felt a strange connection to this land, something unspeakable, an unexplainable bond. Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence. Maybe these ancient legends weren't without basis. Maybe, without realizing it, everything had already begun to unfold.

Suddenly, Alger's thoughts were interrupted. He snapped back to reality and found himself standing on the edge of the forest, not far from the village. Moonlight pierced through the leaves, casting dancing light spots on the ground, as though some secret were hidden there. Alger felt a chill run down his spine, realizing he had wandered much too close.

"I should go," he muttered to himself, trying to turn back. Yet, an inexplicable pull kept him rooted to the spot. It was as though something was calling to him, forcing him to stop, unable to move.

Just then, a low growl echoed from the woods, the sound growing louder, as though some massive beast was drawing near. Alger's heart skipped a beat, and sweat broke out across his forehead. Without further hesitation, he spun around and sprinted back toward his cottage. The faster he ran, the faster his heart beat, as if the entire world were running alongside him.