H Werewolf for Hire

Editor’s Foreword

Even monsters need work.

It was after sunset and the unemployment office was still open. A tall young man with long brown hair walked in. He went up to an empty window where on the other side an unemployment clerk stood, looking bored. The clerk looked up when he heard the footsteps stop and smiled automatically.

“How may I help you?”

“I need a job,” the young man said.

“Well, that’s what we’re here for. Your qualifications?”

“Well... I’m five-hundred years old. I like to howl at the full moon, eat little children–they’re sweeter-tasting than adults–dance in graveyards, and, in general... be the werewolf I am!”

“Yeah-right! Sir, your teeth look a little sharp. I really think you need to see a dentist.”

“Oh, for those good old days! That’s when I used to go to parties at the mausoleum, dance with other werewolves and she-ghouls, and have a howling good time.”

“Sir, you seem to be getting hairy. I think you need a shave.”

The young man sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I really need a job. It’s hard to be scary these days. It used to be that I would just howl, and people would get the shivers. But nowadays if I howl all I ever get is an old shoe thrown at me.”

“Sir, you’re getting a tail–I think.”

“I’m a has-been, a–”

“I do believe I see a full moon rising,” the clerk broke in with a frown etched on his face, “and by my watch it’s also time to close. Let me get another appointment for you.”

The loup-garou, whose shape seemed to be changing, and long silky hair sprouting over his face and body, stared out a nearby window. The sky had deepen into shadows of the night, an unrelenting shade of black. The only light that bathed the scene came from the round yellow moon that had risen high in the sky. The shape shifter’s face longitudinally metamorphosed into a wolfish snout. He turned back to the clerk writing on an appointment card and who seem unaware of what was transpiring.

“Sir, I think it’s time for you to leave, but here’s an appointment time for you to come–”



* * *

The unemployment clerk patted his bulging belly and picked his teeth with a toothpick. He completely changed into a large black wolf that loped away, leaving the building. The doors closed shut behind him, locking securely for the night.


About the Author

Pamela K. Kinney had always made up stories, whether in lieu of an assignment for class or during playtime on the playground. She  loved to scare other kids into believing that the shed next door to the schoolyard actually had a ghost haunting it, or convinced her nephews that a dragon really lived in her closet. She never felt alone as her imagination kept her entertained.


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