THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN, WEREWOLF SLAYER Vol 1; THE WEREWOLF STORM RISING

By ew fowler & Samuel Clemens Scene: The Mississippi Valley, Time: Around 1834. CHAPTER I. YOU don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched and hid, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly--Tom's Aunt Polly, she isand Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers and some hidders, as I said before. Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars apiece--all gold. It was an awful sight of money when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round --more than a body could tell what to do with. What you ain't heard is that the biggest of the hidders, is how I come to be a werewolf slayer, cause in that cave, we found one of our friends, Tolly Sanders, what we growed up with, and he was all torn to pieces. We heard Injun Joe talkin about a boy come lookin for us, when we was missin and afore we was "dead", and that he was set on by a werewolf inside the cave one evenin, and kilt by it. Joe kilt the thing when it was finishing with Tolly and buried it in the woods. He left Tolly there as a warnin to others that might of found the cave. Me and Tom was powerful sad cause Tolly died on account of us and our foolin everybody to thinkin we was dead. We growed up and played with Tolly, who was a dang good friend, and purty good whitewasher to boot, and his death hit us real hard. This is the rest of the story that Mr Twain aint told you about. He held it back with good reason, which you will see further on in the book, but now, me and Tom has decided that it can be told. You is gonna be the first to hear about it. We knew we aint gonna rest till we got vengeance for Tolly, like in the Bible, and by and by we heard about injuns that's been fightin some strange critters out west of here. The stories sounded lots like what we heard about the creature that killed Tolly, so we scouted em out and got the lowdown on the story about the werewolfs, or toothy critters as we come to call em. We offered to pay them injuns good, if they would help us make amends for Tolly. They allowed that they would show us how to kill them critters, but they was leaving this place soon and we would have to take care of Tolly's revenge ourselves. That suited us ok, so we struck a fair bargain. We needed an excuse to spend time with the injuns so Tom and I allowed what we was going to visit his Aunt Sally down the river, and since it was his Aunt Polly's sister, she wrote to see if it were ok to do. Tom, being the upstandin young man he is, allowed as he would post the letters for her, then took em and threw em in a steamer trunk in the attic. He give enough time for a letter to come back answering hers, then usin a old one from Aunt Sally, forged the bestest letter you ever seen, sayin how wonderful it would be to see Tom

and his friend Huck, and how as they was goin on a revival trip and it would take several weeks to be done, the boys could go along. She told too how there werent no need to write during that time, as they wouldnt be home to get no letters for several weeks. This being resolved, we took a steamer headin south, and ditched that thing at the first town it docked down river. We lived, ate and trained with them injuns for nigh on ten weeks and aint never seen a finer bunch of uncivilized folk in this whole dang world. They learned us as how them beasts change from human to animal on the night of the first full moon after they is infected or bitten, and then says they can change ever night iffn they wants, but they has to change every full moon, with no way out. We learned that scratches dont make no never mind as far as an infection goes, but them claws can kill you all the same. Only bitin from their teeth changes a body from you, to them, on the next full moon. Apparently, it hurts like the dickens too, which is maybe why they is so dang mean and out of sorts all the time, that and bein a truly vicious killin beast by nature. They aint like no regular wolf, what just kills for food, and fights his own over territory and mates and such. No, these critters is all together different and is bound to go after people because of a blood lust and feedin need once they changes. Them injuns was powerful certain too that the critters is not gonna die lest they is got their head cut off or is kilt regular like, with knives, bullets or swords and such, made of silver. The weapon has got to be silver, and good silver at that. Nothing else will do. Once we learnt all that, we was turned over to a Dakota injun called Hanwi Wicasa or Moon Man, to learn about the ways to move and use weapons proper, how to find food and shelter and read signs, and to act purt much like a injun. We was told Hanwi Wicasa had kilted over a hundred toothy critters in his day. He peered to be about thirty five or so years old, which I hears is gettin on late prime for an injun. By the time we left the tribe, Tom and me had lost a bit of weight, from eatin the proper foods and the right amounts they said, and we was stronger, faster and smarter than we imagined we was able to be in that amount of time. We could track, hide, listen and fight with all the injuns our age, and some of the older ones too. We was learned all this by the best werewolf killer the injuns ever seen. Them Dakota was gettin ready to move west, back toward their peoples, but was certain helpful and kind to us as any person ever on earth when we was with them. Toothy critters it peers, used to stay away from men, except to kill for food occasional, but now was gettin bolder and a comin into places men was headin to in purt big numbers. Now the injuns was tryin to pass on alls they could so the white brother could defend himself, as they was heading back west where they come from in the first place. They wasnt runnin from the critters, cause they held their own against em mostly, they was just pressed by the white man and felt movin to the old home was better than fightin, least ways for the place they was livin now. They couldnt allow as to why the critters was changin their ways, or why so many, or why in groups stead of single like, they just knowed it was happening. They also told us one more real important thing to remember--NEVER tell nobody, no how about the toothy critters zistance. If folks knew, and the critters knew folks knew, there would be some sort of uprising that could likely start a war the likes of which, aint nobody

seed in these United States. We thought at first that the injuns was daft, but the more we figgered on it, the more sense it come to make. When the fear takes folks, then the kind of suspicion it could breed would have neighbor on neighbor and brother on brother. We decided that unless we seen most people need to know, we would do like the injuns asked and keep mum about it all. We'd know if the time was right and there was cause to lay it out to general folk, and hope they could handle it by then. We was able to pick men, or boys in our case, that was likely to understand the goins on, and bring them into our confidence, that is, train em and set em up to help in the fightin to come. They too made us understand that findin Tolly's killer was likely not gonna happen, but we could avenge him by rootin out and killin as many toothy critters as was possible. We thought on this a long while and decided they was likely right again and we sure got a load of respect for them people in the bargain. We hunted with the injuns and kilt more than a few of them critters ourselves, and took a couple scars in the bargain. It was time to go back to St Petersburg, so we had the injuns cut ten weeks of head hair offn us, got our civil clothes back on and after givin them money for what they needed, mostly some nice blankets and such, hit our way back to town and the widows and aunts. When we got back the Widow Douglas she took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the widow was in all her ways, so, I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied, planning to track and kill from the woods, but Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going to start a band of werewolf killers, and I might join if I would go back to the widow and be respectable, sos it all looked normal and we could kill as we wanted to. So I went back. The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time. When you got to the table you couldn't go right to eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the victuals, though there werent really anything the matter with them,--that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things go better. After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in dead people. Ain't one dead person has helped me kill the varmints what been feeding on the good folk, and bad for that matter, round this ol river for longer years than there has been settlements on the river. Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must try to not do it anymore. That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it, and it ain't near the worst thing that could happen to a body. Here she was a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.

Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewhere; all I wanted was a change and to get findin and killin them dang creatures I knew was out there. She said it was wicked to say what I said about the bad place; said she wouldn't say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it would only make more trouble, and wouldn't do no good. Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. By and by the fetched the slaves in and had prayers, and then everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it werent no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods. Then came a ever so mournful howling off in the distance; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was gonna be dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me and then boilin blood run thru me, just like when Tom and me was a slayin them toothy critters with the injuns. Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. Regular folk caint understand that ghost, but me and ol Tom can. I got so down-hearted and I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it was all shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck. I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. Alls I had now was my considerable skills, learned from the best werewolf slayer whatever lived, and my brains, to fend off the evil. But I never did hear that was enough way to keep off bad luck when you'd killed a spider. Some folks called this silliness, but them folks ain't never lived and trained with Injuns. Injuns knew real from unreal and what civilized folk called superstition. Superstition I found out aint nothin cept the in between real and not real that them civilized bunch cant explain out. It can kill you, just like a knife or gun can, but in some real worse ways. I set down again, thinkin about real and superstition, and got out my pipe for a smoke; tobacco weren't what I needed, but some of the stuff them happy injuns on the river smoked. I pulled some of that weed out of my special deerskin pouch, loaded the pipe and took some long drags, feeling a calmness come over me in soft waves. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go boom--boom--boom--twelve licks; and all still again--stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees --something was a stirring. I set still and listened. If it was them damned toothy critters, I had to get out of the house quick, so's nobody else gets in danger if we took to fightin.

Directly I could just barely hear a "me-yow! me-yow!" down there. That was good! Says I, "me-yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.