Familiar: A Werewolf by Night Story

Shadow Running

The sky grew dark as Sabina hurried home between the mismatched streets of Salem, running between the craggy shadows of houses as old as the witch trials and the smoother modern shapes of contemporary businesses crammed between the historic buildings. A few blocks too far from the historic park, she realized that she had left work while still wearing the complete uniform of a working Englishwoman in the 1600s. Pausing on a street corner, Sabina pondered for a moment if she should turn back.

But then she heard the yells. Monster hunters. It sounded to her as if they were chanting some of their cursed creeds – or maybe just drinking songs – and slowly moving through the streets behind her. Gaining. Sabina's heart thudded anew with fear, and she decided that she could just bring everything back with her to work tomorrow and concentrate on the more terrifying facts at hand. She still had a good fifteen blocks to get to her lonely apartment, for example. Hiking up her heavy woolen petticoats with one hand, Sabina let some of her fear channel into her feet and took off at a nimble sprint for her home.

Salem was strange that night, she thought. Something about it was pitched high and off, like the energy she had sensed beyond the hedges of the historic zone earlier. The streets in front of her grew emptier as the sun disappeared beneath a bloodred sunset.

There were just a few other walkers out for an evening stroll or a last-minute run to the corner grocery store. These were all people friendly to Sabina who just shook their heads bemusedly as she bolted past in her historic gown and coif. They were no threat to her.

As Sabina ran, she could also sense things in the contorted shadows of the crowded city, things with tentacle arms, furry faces, and fangs. These, also, recognized her, and knew she meant them no harm. Though she could not afford to stop in her own dash to safety, Sabina indicated to these neighbors that they should be on their guard tonight. The things in the shadows shrank back into their small corners or clambered up to the safety of rooftops with a grateful wave or growl. Knowing that at least a greater percentage of Salem's supernatural population was in a more secure place for the night and out of the hands of monster hunters, Sabina trained her eyes on her path ahead and kept a ruthless watch for any more friends – or foes – which would intercept her path.

She first spotted trouble in the usual shape: a mob. A larger-than-usual gang of men and women clustered around a corner by the church only a few blocks from Sabina's home. As she drew closer, she could see flashes of that deadly purple sash amidst the crowd and realized that not only her fellow locals but also a good number of monster hunters were milling about. Though the church was a popular stop on ghost and historic tours of the area, things didn't look that way. She wondered what so many of them could be doing with so many locals. Something in the air, again, felt...heated. Frantic. Wrong.

Sabina's gut told her to take a wide loop around the mob and avoid the situation entirely. Just before she peeled off to take the alternate route, she heard someone calling her name. On reflex, Sabina's feet froze. Within a heartbeat she could pinpoint who had summoned her; an older local couple who were regulars at the historic village. Her chest squeezed at the sight of such unassuming people mixed in with the hateful rest of the monster hunters. They blithely waved at her, and she paused long enough to give a small wave back.

Somehow this motion attracted more faces to turn towards her from the crowd. Some – maybe some who couldn't see her face well at half a block's distance – pointed wildly at her brown dress and other old-timey dress items with cries of fascination or...something else. As Sabina listened, the friendly yells that recognized her were rapidly drowned out by yells of another kind.

"Is that a ghost?"

"There's a..."

"She's right there!"