Cycle of the Werewolf February By Stephen King

Cycle of the Werewolf By Stephen King In the Stinking Darkness under the barn, he raised his Shaggy head. His yellow, stupid eyes gleamed. I hunger, he whispered. Henry Ellender The Wolf   Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November, all the rest but the Second have thirty-one, Rains and snow and jolly sun, and the moon grows fat in every one Child's Rime   "Even a man, who is pure in heart and say his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolf bane blooms and the Autumn Moon is bright. Laurence Talbot-1941 The Wolf-Man   Full Snow Moon - February Since the heaviest snow usually falls during this month, native tribes of the north and east most often called February's full Moon the Full Snow Moon. Some tribes also referred to this Moon as the Full Hunger Moon, since harsh weather conditions in their areas made hunting very difficult.   Love, Stella Randolph thinks, lying in her narrow virgins bed, and through her window streams the cold blue light of a St. Valentine's Day full moon. Oh love, love, love would be like-   This year Stella Randolph, who runs the Tarkers Mill Set n Sew, has received twenty Valentines- one from Paul Newman, one from Robert Redford, one from John Travolta even one from Ace Frehley from the rock group Kiss. They stand open on the bureau across the room from her, illuminated in the moons cold blue light. She sent them all to herself, this year as every year.   Love, would be like a kiss at dawn or the last kiss, the real one, at the end of the Harlequin romance stories love would be like roses in twilight   They laugh at her in Tarkers Mills, yes, you bet. Small boys joke and snigger at her from behind their hands (and sometimes, if they are safe across the street and Constable Neary isn't around, they will chant Fatty-Fatty-Two-By-Four in their sweet, high mocking sopranos), but she knows about love, and about the moon. Her store is failing by inches, and she weights to much, but now, on this night of dreams with the moon a bitter blue flood through frost-traced windows, it seems to her that love is still a possibility, love and the scent of summer as he comes   Love would be like the rough feel of a man check, that rub and scratch- And suddenly there is a scratching at the window.   She starts up on her elbows, the coverlet falling away from her ample bosom. The moonlight has been blocked out by a dark shape-amorphous but clearly masculine, and she thinks: I am dreaming and in my dreams, I will let him come in my dreams I will let myself come. They use the word dirty, but the word is clean, the word is right; love would be like coming.   She rises, convinced that this is a dream, because there is a man crouching out there, a man she knows, a man she passes on the street nearly every day. It is-   (love, love is coming, love has come)   But as her pudgy fingers fall on the cold sash of the window she sees it is not a man at all; it is animal out there, a huge, shaggy wolf, his forepaws on the outer sill, his rear legs buried up to the haunches in the snowdrift which crouches against the west side of her house, here on the outskirts of town. But it's Valentine's Day and there will be love, she thinks; her eyes have deceived her even in her dreams. It is a man, that man, and he is so wickedly handsome.   (wickedness yes love would like wickedness)   and he has come this moon-decked night and he will take her. He will- She throws the window up and it is the blast of cold air billowing her filmy blue nightgown out behind that tells her that this is no dream. The man is gone and with a sensation like swooning she realizes he was never there. She takes a shuddering, groping step backward and she the wolf leaps smoothly into her room and shakes itself, spraying a dreamy sugar puff of snow in the darkness.   But love! Love is like is like, like a scream-   Too late she remembers Arnie Westrum, torn apart in the railroad shack to the west of town only a month before. Too late   The wolf pads toward her, yellow eyes gleaming with cool lust. Stella Randolph backs slowly towards her narrow virgins bed until the back of her pudgy knees strike the frame and she collapses upon it.   Moonlight parts the beast's shaggy fur in a silvery streak. On the bureau the Valentine cards shiver minutely in the breeze from the open window; one of them falls and seesaws lazily to the floor, cutting the air in big silent arcs.   The wolf puts its paw up on the bed, one on either side of her, and she can smell its breath hot, but somehow not unpleasant. Its yellow eyes stare into her. Lover she whispers, and closes her eyes. It falls upon her.   Love is like dying.   This Story is from the Book "Cycle of the Werewolf" by Stephen King. You can find a copy at www.Barnes&Noble.com   Carl Ray Louk "FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS" SG-1996 "LET LOVE LEAD THE WAY" SG-2000 "THE PHOENIX SHALL RISE" SD "EVEN A MAN WHO IS PURE IN HEART AND SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT, MAY BECOME A WOLF WHEN THE WOLFBANE BLOOMS AND THE AUTUMN MOON IS BRIGHT." LT-1941 "FLESH OF MY FLESH; BLOOD OF MY BLOOD; KIN OF MY KIN WHEN SAY COME TO YOU, YOU SHALL CROSS LAND OR SEA TO DO MY BIDDING!" CVTD-1895 "FROM HELL'S HEART I STAB AT THEE, FOR HATE SAKE I SPIT MY LAST BREATH AT THEE" CA-1895  "I HAVE BEEN, AND ALWAYS SHALL BE YOUR FRIEND" Spock  "TRICK OR TREAT, TRICK OR TREAT CANDY IS DANDY BUT MURDER, OH MURDER, IS SO SWEET" CRL-2003  "EYE OF NEWT, AND TOE OF FROG, WOOL OF BAT, AND TONGUE OF DOG ADDER'S FORK, BLIND-WORM'S STING, LIZARD'S LEG, AND OWLET'S WING. FOR A CHARM OF POWERFUL TROUBLE, LIKE A HELL-BROTH BOIL AND BABBLE. DOUBLE, DOUBLE, TOIL AND TROUBLE, FIRE BURN, AND CALDRON BUBBLE" WS MySpace.com: www.myspace.com/carlraylouk http://www.myspace.com/carlraylouk Yahoo Group: Yahoo! Groups : LouksHauntedGraveyardhttp://groups.yahoo.com/group/LouksHauntedGraveyard/ Yahoo Group: Yahoo! Groups : TheWorldAccordingtoCarlRayLouk http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheWorldAccordingtoCarlRayLouk/