We're Weres

Were creatures are cursed people, that change on a full moon to the Were creature that they are. The most commonly known of Were creatures are Werewolves, there are also Werebears and Werefoxes and many other were creatures.Were creatures include many species that are either half human-animals monsters from mythology and folklore, borrowing traits from both side, or shapeshifters who are able to go from one realm to another.

This is just one rule about the moon, but you can spin your own creation.

1. Enter a newly written flash fiction horror piece between 300 up to a maximum of 500 words following the given prompt by the 10th of the month.

2. 3000 gift points will be given to the best flash piece after the 15th of the month. 1000 gps for runner up. Prizes given on the condition 2 Knights enter.

3. You'll have to the end of the month WDC time to enter an extended version of your story.

4. Give me your best effort. Grammar won't be a big issue with the flash fiction, but must be corrected with the longer version.

5. Any Rating will be accepted.

6. All stories must be posted in Bitem format.

7. 3000 gp's will be awarded for the Knight that goes head to head with me. If you slaughter this Dark Knight, I'll increase the reward to 6000 gp's and either a horror merit badge or black ribbon or both, I'll decide. Prizes will be given by the 5th of the following month.

8. I reserve the right to award more than one author provided I feel the stories merited additional winners. All decisions are final.

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We're Weres

By Indelibleink

"Janie...How are we doing today? How's my Mommy?" Paul Wilkins smiled at the nurse and pulled a chair over to his mother's bed, swung it around backwards, and sat down, resting his chin on the back of the chair. His mom was dozing.  "You know, the last two days she's been rambling on and on about something, but I haven't been able to figure out what she's been trying to say. I told Dr. Rice last week that her morphine drip might need adjustment - I think she's losing touch..."

Nurse Janie walked over to the bed with Karen Wilkins's chart.

"Dr. Rice did reduce the morphine by one-third - he said your mom is pretty stable right now. And, FYI, your mom never talks to the nurses - only to you."

Paul leaned back in his chair and briefly feigned a heart attack.

"That's hilarious. When she was healthy, she never had the time of day for me. Now, she's just about ready to check-out, and suddenly she wants some 'quality time'. Go figure..."

At that moment Paul felt his mother's gnarled right hand grab his forearm and pull him close to her. Her voice was barely audible, but she appeared quite lucid.

"Paulie...We're..." Her voice trailed off to less than a whisper, and Paul waved with his free hand and got Janie's attention. Paul whispered to Janie, "I'm going to try to get her to say it again...Try to see if you can understand what she is saying." Janie nodded in agreement, and drew her head down within inches of Karen's mouth. "Mom...tell me again...I can't understand you..."

The old woman's eyes remained closed, yet she nodded as if she understood her son completely. "It's okay, Paulie. Don't fear...death. We're weres...We're weres..." Again her voice drifted to inaudible, and this time her head fell to the side as if the sentence had taken everything out of her. She was clearly out for a while this time.

"I just don't get it. We are 'weres'? What kind of friggin' English is that?"

Janie shook her head. "No. I know how it sounded to you, but the inflections in her voice tell me that 'weres' - whatever that is - is a noun. And I don't think she was saying 'we're' as a contraction for 'we are'. She's not saying it like a contraction. It's something else..."

Paul stood up. "I'm going out to get some coffee. Be right back."

At the end of the hallway, Paul deposited his coins in the java bandit, and turned his attention to a grieving family that had walked by. Almost out of earshot, the apparent widow, being consoled by a man who Paul assumed to be her son, said, "I just wish I had understood what Vincent meant when he kept repeating 'We're weres". If only I had understood him..."

Paul dropped the freshly brewed bean to the floor and took off down the hall in pursuit of the grievers.

And some answers.

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Word count: 500