Fur-Face Fawkes

"Ladies and germs, this is Howlin' Chris Harrison, bringing you the oldies from way back on this, the night of all nights for you spookers and spookettes out there in San Diegooo!! Comin' up right here and now, we got ourselves a little classic I'm sure will have a lot of toes tappin' in their coffins! Sit back and... enjoy!"

I tossed my empty coffee cup at the dashboard, watching with disinterest as it bounced off the plastic and careened towards the floor at my feet. I laid my head back against the headrest as an appropriately spooky song began playing over the radio.

"I was working in my lab, late one night
When my eyes beheld a eerie sight..."

Hobbes chewed on his toothpick and muttered, changing the next line of the song to, "A quicksilver mad Fawkes looking for a shot."

"That doesn't even fit," I grumbled, looking out the window.

"Gotta keep ourselves entertained, Fawkes. The Official puts us on stakeout, we go where he points to. No questions."

"C'mon, Hobbes! It's Halloween! Don't you think we should be having... I don't know... fun?!"

Hobbes drummed his fingers on the dashboard. "You think I didn't think of having fun tonight, Fawkes? I got partnered with a friggin' invisible man! I've been planning this night since August! I'm as bummed as you are, my friend!"

I smiled. "Oh, yeah? What kinda plans did you have?"

Hobbes shrugged, leaning against his door. "Let's just say it involved a rubber chicken, tomatoes and China."

"The country or the dishes?"

"The dishes," Hobbes said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "'Course, I woulda had to involve The Keeper. It woulda taken a *lot* of quicksilver."

"C'mon, c'mon, spill, man! What were you planning?"

Hobbes suddenly sat up straight, looking ahead at the building we had been staring at for the past two hours. "We got movement, Fawkes... eleven o'clock..."

I looked at my watch. "No, it's past midnight."

Hobbes glared at me. "That joke is so tired..."

"Sure, sure, not as tired as I am... whaddaya say we bag this guy and go home? To sleep. Ah, to sleep..."

"Sounds good to me." Hobbes popped open his door as quietly as possible and dropped to the gravel, making his way towards the chain link fence a few yards up.

Towering over us was a giant anamatronic chicken, it's head illuminated by countless spotlights. Underneath the monstrous chicken were the words "ARKOFF EGGS! That's All Yolks!" in bright, cartoon-ish letters.

As I slipped under the fence, I thought back to the Official's office... thinking about being assigned this on the spookiest day of the year...

*~*~*

I dropped into my chair, crossing one leg over the other as Eberts moved slowly behind the Official's chair. The windows were darkened by the ever-present rainclouds, the panes attacked by falling raindrops. As Hobbes entered the room, a flash of lightning exploded, illuminating the room for a brief moment. The lettering on the brown Department of Fish and Game sign jumped with the bolt. Eberts jumped as well, holding a file folder to his chest like a talisman as he eyed the windows. The Official was, as usual, stoic.

Hobbes walked to the window and leaned against the pane. "Aw, chief! Look at this! The perfect Halloween night!" He walked over to my chair, pointing in my general direction. "And I got me an honest-to-goodness, real life ghost here!"

The Official raised his hand and Hobbes immediately shut up. "Gentlemen, I called you here for a reason..."

I melodramatically said, "One of you here... is the killer!"

The Official glared at me. "This isn't one of your cheesy movies, Fawkes. An old friend has asked me to do him a favor. I naturally agreed."

Hobbes and I both said, "Naturally."

Eberts glanced nervously at the window as he placed the file folder on the desk in front of the Official. "Mr. David Arkoff, founder and president of Arkoff Eggs, has asked that we look into a chicken thief."

"Chicken thief, chief?" Hobbes asked.

The Official nodded. "Arkoff has one of the largest supplies of fertile chickens in California. Someone has been sneaking into his facility at night and kidnapping several chickens at a time. Their carcasses are usually found a few miles away, buried in a makeshift grave. All have been mutilated."

Eberts picked something up from the file. "We have photographs of recovered chickens."

I winced. "Ew... no, thanks. I'd never be able to eat KFC again." I snapped my fingers. "The colonel! Have you checked him out?"

"He has an alibi," Hobbes said.

"What's that?"

"An alibi?" Hobbes said. "It's an excuse for why he didn't do the murder."

"I know what an alibi is, what is Colonel Sanders' alibi?"

"He's dead."

I looked at the Official. "Helluvan alibi..."

Eberts handed Hobbes a map. "This is the location of Arkoff's main chicken ranch. You are to stake it out and report any findings."

I flicked the paper. "Right. We'll get right on this tomorrow night."

"Ah, ah," The Official said. "You're heading out now."

"Now? C'mon, man, it's raining! And it's Halloween."

"Now," the Official grimaced.

I sighed. "What about my quicksilver? I'm already six segments..."

The door at the back of the office was flung open suddenly and Claire stepped in, needle in hand. She was wearing the typical long white lab coat and one of those round mirrors on her forehead. Lighting flashed, flickering off the tip of the needle as she struck a pose. I raised an eyebrow.

Hobbes blinked. "Whoa... enter the mad scientist."

The Keeper smiled. "Stop it. I was called in from a costume party. Now... someone here is in need of a fix?"

*~*~*

Under the piercing glare of Arkoff's neon chicken, Hobbes and I slipped onto the property. The building that housed the majority of the chickens stood about fifty yards away across an empty parking lot. Hobbes and I were watching the far corner, the only area not lit by security lights. A small, shadowy figure was making it's way across the lot. It kept mostly to the shadows, but I could tell that it was about four feet tall and hunched over.

"Hobbesy, that's gotta be a kid... look how small it is!"

"Shh," Hobbes hissed. "Kid or no, he's trespassin' on private property."

"Need I remind you... so are we?"

"Shh!"

The kid moved across the shadowy parking lot, looking over his shoulder every few steps. Hobbes reached back and patted my arm. "Looks like it's time for the see-through stuff," he suggested.

I nodded and moved towards the moving shadow of the kid. As I moved, I covered my body with the chilled essence of quicksilver. I approached the kid as stealthily as I could, pausing every now and then to mask the sound of my footsteps. I finally came up directly behind the kid.

Suddenly, he turned and took a swipe at me, his fingers narrowly brushing my nose. I fell back, holding in a gasp of surprise. The kid stopped, scanning the parking lot for his attacker. The fact that I was nowhere to be seen must have thrown him for a loop, no matter how good his hearing was.

He straightened slightly. He was still smaller than me; about four, four and a half feet. He clenched his fists and sniffed the air. Before I could figure out what he was doing, he launched himself at me. Small though he was, the muscle behind his jump was enough to topple me. I landed with a thud on the asphalt, knocking the air from my lungs and the quicksilver from my body.

The kid looked at me, shock and wonder passing over his face in quick succession. Finally, he growled and snapped at me, his teeth nipping my neck. He hissed in Hobbes' direction and pulled himself off of me. He dashed across the parking lot in the direction he had come. I sat up, watching him go. Hobbes burst out of the shadows, brandishing his gun. "Freeze! Hold it right there, kid! Stop!!"

The kid was gone in no time. Hobbes holstered his weapon and moved over to me. "You okay, Fawkes? How'd he know you were there?"

I shook my head. "Kid couldn't have been more than twelve... right? He was... he was around twelve..."

"I didn't get a good look," Hobbes admitted. "Why? What's the big deal? So he's twelve."

I blinked, shaking my head. "He had facial hair, Hobbes. That kid had a full beard!"

"Are you kiddin', Fawkes?"

I didn't answer, instead pulling myself up and running in the direction the hairy kid had disappeared in. In the shadows ahead, I could hear the sound of running footsteps that matched mine. I called to Hobbes over my shoulder, "Do you have a flashlight?"

A beam shot out almost immediately, scanning the shadows ahead. Frustrated at chasing darkness, I quicksilvered my eyes and immediately saw in a different spectrum. Ahead, I could see the small, running shape. I smiled and said, "Got him, Hobbesy!"

I took off again, wiggling under the chain link fence and finding myself in heavy woods. The kid was scrambling up the hill a few yards away. "Hey, kid! I don't want to hurt you! I just want to talk!" I followed him up the hill, eager to get my hands on the fleeing child.

The hill evened out and the kid was once again on foot. After he took a few running steps, he dropped to all fours and began running like a wild dog. Suddenly, to my left, I spotted someone else making their way through the shrubbery towards us... and this one had a gun. Looking at the retreating wolf-like kid, I turned and began running towards the gunman. "Hey! Hey, who's there?"

The gun was brought up, leveled at me. I blinked the quicksilver off of my eyes and found myself in all-consuming darkness. A flashlight beam hit me in the face. "FBI. Who're you and what are you doing here?"

Hobbes suddenly appeared at my side, out of breath. "Federal agents. Department of Fish and Game."

The FBI agent lowered his light. "F&G? You gotta be kidding me."

Hobbes hooded his eyes, squinting into the flashlight beam. "Jonesy? Is that you?"

The agent shined the light on his own face. "Special Agent Fox Mulder."

I smiled. "Get outta here, your name is Fawkes, too?"

Hobbes flashed his badge and ID. "Agents Hobbes and Fawkes... We're out here investigating the theft of several chickens from Arkoff Eggs. You know anything about that?"

"No," Mulder admitted, "but I do know what's stealing the chickens."

"Oh?" Hobbes said. "What?"

"A werewolf."

Hobbes scoffed, turning around and taking a few steps. "You've gotta be kiddin' me. You sure you're FBI?"

Mulder glared at Hobbes. "You sure you're Department of Fish and Game? Look, I'm one of the agents assigned to the X-files to investigate strange or paranormal activity."

Hobbes laughed. "X-files?! Geez, Jonesy and I use to joke about... wait... Spooky Mulder?!"

Mulder rolled his eyes and sighed, looking over his shoulder.

"Why do they call you Spooky?"

"Cause I am," he said. "I investigate UFOs, alien lifeforms and the like. But what I'm out here looking for is evidence of a half-man, half-wolf creature who was spotted in a barn a few miles away trying to make off with a couple of cows."

"Wait, I think I saw that thing. Looked like a kid with a full-beard."

"A kid?" Mulder asked. "You mean... the earlier accounts were of a full-grown creature. If it's procreated, there would have to be a mother and father. A family of werewolves..."

I sighed. "Peachy." I rubbed my neck where the dog-boy had bitten me. Suddenly, I realized. "Uh... you said... it was a werewolf?"

"Right," Mulder nodded.

"We may have a problem..."



---

I lay on my regular slab in the Keeper's Keep, my feet propped up on the end of the chair. I rubbed my face absently, noticing that I had grown a healthy beard. "This, uh... this is normal, right?" I asked.

Mulder had returned to the Agency with us, bringing along his attractive partner Dana Scully. They were examining some of Claire's animals as Hobbes milled around aimlessly. Mulder sighed. "It depends on the type of werewolf you're dealing with. I mean, some display symptoms of being a lycanthrope once a month, hence the urban legend about full moons and the like. Some display rapid hair growth, while others actually become completely wolf-like with four paws, snout and tails. It's hardly the Lon Chaney picture."

Hobbes muttered, "Don Chaney."

"Pardon me?" Mulder said.

"Don Chaney. The actor who played the wolfman was Don Chaney."

Mulder frowned. "Pretty sure it was Lon..."

Hobbes rolled his eyes. "Whatever, boss."

The door opened and Claire finally arrived. "Okay, I've abandoned my party twice tonight. What is so bloody important that... oh, my God, Darien! What happened?"

I picked up an empty instrument tray and looked at myself. My hair had grown a little, the ends drooping to frame my face. My cheeks and chin were covered with a thick blanket of coarse, brown hair. "I got bit, Keep."

"A bite would hardly cause this amount of hair growth," she said, casting a confused glance at Mulder and Scully.

"Oh, really? I happen to remember one bite causing some problems for me a few weeks back. Or did I just get really old because of an allergic reaction."

Hobbes cleared his throat, subtly pointing at the FBI agents. "Nee' t' know," Hobbes coughed.

I rolled my eyes. "Can you help me out here, Keep?"

"I'm not sure," she said, preparing a syringe. "I'll need a blood sample to determine what caused this. I may not have an answer for you until tomorrow morning."

"Great. So until then, I'm playin' the part of Scooby-Doo here."

The doors to the Keep slid open once more, depositing Eberts and the Official. Even in my dire condition, I had to supress a smile at the sight. Eberts was dressed in an immaculate suit, complete with vest and bowler cap. His face and hands were painted white to emulate a black-and-white TV show or movie. The Official was wearing the same kind of outfit, except he had a small black mustache painted over his upper lip.

Hobbes snickered, "What're you two suppose to be?"

Eberts adjusted his jacket. "I am portraying the legendary screen actor Stan Laurel. The Official has agreed to be my faithful sidekick Oliver Hardy."

Claire smirked. "Very nice, boys."

"Now," The Official said. "What's the prognosis on Agent Fawkes?"

Mulder stepped forward. "I believe your Agent Fawkes, was attacked by a lycanthrope or, in layman's terms, a werewolf. In accordance to myth and legend, he himself is becoming a werewolf."

The Official smirked, "The, ah, howling at the moon version?"

"Well, just because someone has the physical attributes of a wolf doesn't mean they actually pick up the characteristics of a wolf."

I glanced at Mulder's partner, a pretty redhead in a business suit. She seemed more interested in Claire's snake, Lucinda, than what we were talking about. "You seem awfully quiet, Agent Scully."

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just refuse to believe that there are people out there running around acting like wolves."

Mulder pointed at me. "How do you explain that, Scully? The man is becoming a wolf before your very eyes! How do you explain that?"

She shrugged. "I knew a boy in high school who could grow a mustache overnight..."

Mulder rolled his eyes.

Claire muttered, "What? That can't be right..."

I turned to her, giving her my full attention. "What? What is it?"

She looked at me, then at Mulder and Scully. "Could we, ah, have a little privacy, please?"

"Something wrong?"

"No, not at all... just sensitive case matters, is all."

Hobbes took Mulder by the arm and said, "Let's go, pal. I'll give you the grand tour of the Agency."

"Sounds like fun," Mulder murmured, glancing at Scully as they were ushered out.

Once the Keep doors shut once more, I turned to Claire and immediately asked, "Is something wrong with the gland?"

"I'm not sure, but..." She lifted my arm and showed me my monitor. "Aw, crap." The snake was almost entirely filled; only two green segments remained. As she prepared my shot, I looked at the monitor. "How could it be so full? I didn't use that much quicksilver..." I quickly thought back over my invisibility that night. I had turned invisible to chase the wolf kid, used it on my eyes to track him... for all intents and purposes, I should've only had two *red* segments. "I only turned invisible once! Not counting my eyes..."

"Well, it got used up somehow... and this facial hair thing could also be a reaction to an overactive gland."

"What? This... this hair growth thing is related to the gland?"

"It could be," she muttered, filling a syringe with counteragent. "The bite may have caused an adverse reaction... And there have been reports of rapid hair growth in relation to the gland."

"Really?" I frowned. "When?"

"Never mind," she said. She turned and prepared a vein on my arm. As she slipped the needle into my arm, I hissed and looked away.

Suddenly, Hobbes burst back into the room with Mulder and Scully in tow. "Chief! We got confirmation of another break-in at Arkoff Eggs. The perp has been trapped inside. What're your orders?"

The Official nodded, "Hobbes, I want you..."

"Ahem," Eberts said.

"What?" the Official sighed.

Eberts adjusted his tie. "I believe we had an arrangement tonight, *Ollie.* Stan was the boss of Laurel and Hardy, so..."

The Official rolled his eyes. "This isn't some stupid Halloween party, Eberts!"

"Now, now," Eberts snapped. "I'll give the reprimands around here." The Official turned and made a throttling motion with his hands. Eberts ignored it and turned to Hobbes. "Robert, you and Fawkes accompany the FBI to Arkoff Eggs and apprehend the wolf-boy. Bring him back here and we will detain him in the basement."

Hobbes nodded. "Let's go, Fawkes!"

I slipped off the bed and glanced at Claire. "How long until I need another shot?"

She checked her watch. "You only turned invisible once and it's only been three and a half hours since your last shot... I'd be careful if I were you."

From the hall, I heard, "FAWKES!"

I shrugged into my jacket and backed out of the room. "Happy Halloween, Keep. Try not to get too scared..."

---

Arkoff Eggs still had the flourescent chicken rotating on the roof, still had the insanely easy-to-penetrate chain link fence around it. Nothing was different. If not for the phone call alerting us to the criminal, we would never have known the building was under a lock-down. A guard let us in the main gate, a nice diversion from crawling underneath the fence to gain access.

We parked the van next to a security car and climbed out, our faces illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights. The security chief approached us, looking warily at the hair growing on my hands and face. "What's the story with the hairball?"

I sighed. "Forget about me... where's the kid?"

The chief motioned at the building behind him. "Somewhere inside. He got away from the section where we were holding him, but he hasn't left the building. He's probably found some kind of hidey-hole to crawl into."

Hobbes nodded. "We'll sniff him out. Let's go, folks."

As we approached the door, Mulder said, "Okay, Agent Hobbes and Fawkes, take the west side of the building. Scully and I..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Hobbes said. "Who put you in charge here? I believe that *my* agency gave *you* the tip on where this little bugger could be found. If anyone is in charge, it's me!"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Okay. What's your plan?"

Hobbes chewed his lip for a moment. "You go on the west side, Fawkes and I will take the east. We'll work our way to the middle."

Mulder smiled a fake smile. "Genius plan. Lead the way."

Scully rolled her eyes and followed us inside.

---

Hobbes and I split up almost immediately after entering the building. I went up a service ladder and pulled myself up onto a catwalk. As I started down the shaky platform, I pulled down my watch and checked my wrist. Five segments already filled. "What?! Aw, crap..." As I watched, a sixth segment filled. I turned, heading back to the ladder. I was either going to need a vial of counteragent or I was going to be locked in the padded room. Either way, I was not going to be looking for a wolf boy.

As I neared the ladder, I heard a low growling behind me. I turned in time to see a small form launch out of the shadows toward me. It hit me in the middle of the chest, knocking me against the railing. Sharp teeth nipped at my wrist as the kid growled and barked like a miniature schnauzer. I pushed the dog-wolf-boy off and managed to free myself from his snapping jaws. I turned and heaved myself over the railing, dropping to the floor about ten feet below and rolling. I heard the wolf boy chasing after me and did the only thing I could. I went see-through.

As soon as the chilly substance covered me, I felt an aching at the back of my neck. Whatever that kid had done to me, I had the feeling it was doing a real number on my poor gland. Putting aside all thoughts of going mad, I managed to pull myself to my feet and stumbled to my left. The wolf boy was slowly searching the area where I had landed, pausing every now and then to sniff the air. I winced, feeling pain shooting down my spine from the gland, mingling with the pain emanating from my shoulder due to the fall.

The kid turned, looking straight at me. He growled again and pounced. I stepped out of the way, side-stepping his attack. He got a mouthful of plaster for his troubles. As he was regrouping, I turned and dashed down the small corridor I suddenly found myself in. I shoved open a heavy metal door and found myself confronted with a roomful of flying white feathers. Thousands of chickens greeted me by pronouncing "Bawkbawk bawk BAWK!"

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw little Eddie Munster running after me and realized I had no choice. I dashed into the 'birthing' room where a multitude of chickens were either laying eggs or preparing to. I tried not to think about the fact that one day, thousands of people would sit down to breakfast made possible by these very eggs. I knelt and grabbed a handful, careful not to break the shells.

I turned and saw wolfie lurching through the flying feathers. I heaved a handful of eggs at him. The shells shattered, covering his face with yolk. The kid yelped, pausing and trying to uncover his eyes. I tried to take advantage of his distraction, but it was too late. A spike of pain shot from the back of my skull to the frontal lobe of my brain. I dropped to my knees, gasping as the quicksilver poison in my system began to reach fatal levels... madness levels.

---

Hobbes kicked open the fourth and final locker, only to find it empty as well. He sighed and lowered his gun. "Friggin' wolf kids." He sighed and turned, ready to meet up with Fawkes again. Suddenly, two object smacked against the windows high on the wall of the building. Hobbes pulled his gun and scanned the ceiling. Two sets of pounding footsteps hurried along the roof of the building and directly over Hobbes' location. Realization suddenly dawned on him; if the werewolf they had trapped was just a kid...

He swallowed and said, "Mom and Pop just showed up for their little boy. Aw, crap."

---

The quicksilver flaked off of me as soon as the pangs of madness began to course through my body. The egg-faced wolf crept up behind me, growling low in his throat. I spun around, straightening as I turned. The kid stopped, surprised by this bold move. My eyes were burning a bright red. I grinned an evil grin and said, "Happy Halloween, wolfenstein." I grabbed a handful of the wolf-kid's hair and hurled him backwards. He landed with a thud on the floor, about ten feet away from the door.

"Tables have turned. Prey becomes predator, predator becomes prey. Gotta love it..."

The kid scrambled to his feet and made a break for the door. I took off after him. Arkoff Eggs had a very screwed-up interior designer, I soon realized. The east side was devoted to about a dozen 'egg chambers,' which is where the chickens actually laid their eggs. The wolf kid, realizing he had stumbled onto a worthy adversary, was interested only in escape.

I, on the other hand, was focused on bringing this little snot down. I wanted blood and I wanted it *now*! The kid bobbed and weaved, dashing through egg chamber after egg chamber, trying to lose me in the cloud of feathers that hung over our heads. Luckily, I was better than he gave me credit for.

As we broke through the final egg chamber, I spotted Hobbes standing on the opposite end with his gun ready. "Hobbesy," I laughed. "Hey, Hobbes, here comes the kid! Right towards you!"

Hobbes searched the feathers, spotting movement among the mass. He moved into firing position, then called out, "Freeze, kid! We know you're in there!"

The door behind me opened and Mulder and Scully entered, also with their guns prepared. The kid stopped between us and the entire room acquired a very eerie feel.

In the center of the room, a hair-covered quicksilver mad agent and a hairy child.

On one side, there were two FBI agents with guns drawn, their aim focused on the child in the center of the room.

On the other, Hobbes had noticed the amber tint to my eyes and had trained his weapon on me. I didn't have a weapon, so I lashed out and grabbed the kid, holding him against my chest. I looked back and forth between the three federal agents who had their guns on me. I chuckled. "Now *this* is a cliche... Who's gonna shoot first? Huh?"

My question would go unanswered.

The skylight above us suddenly shattered, raining down shards of glass and wood from the windowframe. I ducked out of the way of the sharp-edged rain, losing my grip on the wolf kid as I fled. The kid dashed forward, trying to hide himself among the chickens. Mulder and Scully both adjusted their aim, locking onto the two large objects tumbling through the destroyed skylight. Hobbes, on the other hand, rushed to my side and slipped a small tranquilizer gun from his boot. I looked at the red tip of the dart and said, "Where'd that come from, Hobbesy?"

"Be prepared, my friend." He jabbed me in the neck with the dart, knocking me cold until I could get some counteragent. As my vision faded, I saw the two intruders land on all fours a few feet ahead of me. They had hands and feet like humans, but their faces were distinctly canine and their bodies covered with fur. One of them turned and looked at me as I passed out.

---

Around ten am, I finally came to in the Keep. Claire had her back to me, performing some experiment. I groaned and said, "How long was I out?"

She turned, smiling. "Almost seven hours. How're you feeling?"

"Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer used my head as a punching bag... ugh... what happened?" I rubbed my forehead and noticed that it and my hand were both devoid of hair. Well... devoid of *excess* hair, I should say. "Keep? You cured me?"

"Not hardly," she smiled, slipping onto a stool next to my chair. "Would you like to hear the full story or the Reader's Digest version?"

"Um... Digest, please."

"Okay... the mum and pop wolf showed up last night and interrupted what I am told was a very heated chase. They were interested only in saving their child, but Agent Mulder convinced them to revert to human form so they could talk."

"Wow... he must be some negotiator."

"I believe he was rather persuasive... he held the child wolf until they agreed. Anyway, he asked if there was a way your condition could be revered. The mum wolf claimed that transformation would not have been so pronounced this early unless there was an unknown catalyst at work."

"The gland."

"Precisely! So, the mum and pop nipped you again and gave you some sort of wolf hormone to reverse the process."

"So... I'm not hairy anymore?"

"Nope."

"What about Arkoff Eggs? Are the wolf-people in custody?"

"They agreed to go back to Washington with Mulder and Scully, but..."

"But?"

She sighed. "They managed to escape in Kansas. Mulder believes they won't cause any problems for fear of being caught and, on our side, Arkoff Eggs is no longer going to be robbed of it's chickens." She shrugged. "I suppose you could say... we won."

I looked at my arm. "The, uh... gland? It's okay, right?"

"I've been monitoring your condition. The gland appears to have returned to normal. You won't need another shot for a few days, at least."

I sighed. "Well... I guess you couldn't ask for a more appropriate Halloween case, huh, Keep?"

"You could," she shrugged. "But I don't think you'd enjoy the consequences."

I slipped off of the chair and walked out of the Keep. The funny thing about it is that when we were kids, Kevin always wanted to trick-or-treat as the wolfman. Me? I usually went for the obvious. I was usually a ghost.

End

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