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Searching for Madge

Drained from carrying the dead wolf home, you sit down with a cold beverage. You still can't completely shake the feeling that the wolf spoke to you, but as your drink begins to take effect, you stop worrying about it so much. You look at the clock. It's late, and nothing is stopping you from going to bed. Nothing except the wolf, that is. What does one do with a dead wolf in civilization?

Everything should be clear in the morning, you rationalize. Hey, maybe this is all a dream! Even if it isn't, you should be able to get a second opinion in the morning. You smile and head upstairs, turning out all the lights as you go.

You duck in the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, and so forth. As you wash your hands, though, something feels remarkably strange. Looking down, you notice that your hands have dander all over them. Water doesn't get rid of it, and you slowly realize why: it's growing on you. Everywhere that you touched the wolf, you have fur covering your skin. Whereas the wolf had black fur, however, yours is reddish. It clashes with your complexion.


Written by Joey Liverwurst (edited by wanderer)

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