Absolutely Nothing- A Short Story

December 1774, New England, America. I hold my lantern in the air and shout out his name over and over again. The snow this year had been completely ridiculous, and the wind sunk its sharp teeth through my clothes and into my chest.

The English had taken advantage of this beautiful land to the point where we were left with nothing. I wouldn’t have be surprised if they were to take the clothes off our backs. In the air, a whisper of revolution found its way through our small town. I couldn’t listen to that sort of talk. Christian thought revolution was exactly what we needed. I disagreed, especially with his temper.

Christian was a good husband. Hard working, fiercely loyal, incredibly brave, but he had his faults too. A terrible temper to accompany his unmatched strength. Thankfully, he had never laid a finger on me. That being said, he also hadn’t held back when expressing his dislike to people in our town. Such people included the neighbors, the store clerk, the bartender, and multiple royal guards.

In fact, his rage was the main reason I was out in the cold searching for him, my lantern and a bright full moon guiding me. If he had gotten a hold of his temper a little earlier, then he wouldn’t have stormed out a year ago. He wouldn’t have gotten drunk in the woods. He wouldn’t be –

In the distance, I hear the sound of wolves howling and a part of me wants to turn back for home. With so much snow, the wolves had been in more control of this town than the King himself. Those dastardly creatures had attacked livestock, larger animals, people…

Another howl. I took a deep breath and began marching in that direction.

I grew up in this town; Christian moved here from Scotland five years back. After my father died, I would have accepted any marriage proposal to keep me off the streets. Christian’s just so happened to be the first to reach me.

No, I didn’t marry Christian for love. I married him for security. His family was wealthy, and it seemed like I could have a comfortable life as his wife. My father use to say tragedy unfairly targets the poor. I used to think that was such a cynical way of thinking, but then I became poor and saw with clear eyes how true that statement was.

I’m ashamed to admit that now, of course. Christian’s good heart loved me from the beginning, and I only used him. He had taken care of me and protected me. We had tried for many years to have children and have always been met with disappointment. Still, he never blamed me. I suppose after all the years we had shared together, searching for him in the cold night was the least I could do.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve had to do this too. Once a month at least for the past year, I would go in search of my husband. Rain, snow or clear night, I had to reach him before someone saw… or before he saw someone.

Maybe five minutes pass before I see a corpse. It is merely a buck. His large horns had been thrown from his head, a large gash opened his middle, bite marks pierced his beautiful pelt, and his blood poured over the white, crystal ground. It took everything within me to keep my stomach from turning.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of blond hair. Quickly, I turned my head to look upon my husband standing several yards away.

Now, it was my husband, but no one but myself could tell.

I’m stunned with fear. Growing up, my father had told me stories of a moon beast. I had thought they were just that. Stories. Only a few months prior, that was my thinking. Now, I know better.

Since the incident in the woods over a year before, Christian had begun acting very strangely. He said that he had seen a beast in the woods. He had said that this beast could rip a cow in half. He had said that this beast was uncontrollable and deadly.

Never in a million years would I have believed that this beast was him.

Now as I face an eight foot tall, hunched over wolf creature head on, and the words fall from my lips,


“Angel, I know it doesn’t sound right, but I’m not having an affair,” Christian said breathily as he tried so desperately to explain where he had been all night. His hair stuck up in every direction, his clothes were haphazardly thrown on and his blue eyes looked desperate and lost. “I would never!”

Perhaps I should have been more compassionate towards him, but the last few months, I had been increasingly going to bed alone while Christian came home later and later. He seemed oddly distant. I had even found a pair of his new trousers torn in half right down the middle buried in the backyard.

“What then?” I ask him, shoving his hand away from touching a strand of my yellow hair. “Where were you last night? What aren’t you telling me?”

His shoulders tensed. His eyes nervously looked away, “If I told you,” he began in a voice softer than a whisper, “you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me.”

The creature finally turned its large head to face me. His fierce yellow eyes examined me before it gave another howl. I knew what would come next. This wasn’t the first time I had done this, but it never seemed to get easier.

Suddenly, the creature bolted on all fours, bounding towards me with teeth bared and claws out. I knew he could tear into me without a second thought. In the morning, he would be mournful, but for tonight, I am nothing but prey.

Still, I stood my ground. “Christian!” I called to him in the bravest voice my small frame could muster. “Come home!”

Almost instantaneously, he skidded along the soft, snowy ground to a stop. I could see his tangled blond hair shining red from the blood of his last victim. His large eyes gazed upon me with curiosity and familiarity. My heart beat so quickly, my hands shook in the cold, and I called out to him again.

“Christian, come home.”

In between the shadows of the thick, bare tree branches, I watch as this creature hesitantly moved towards me. The matted mane melted away, the yellow eyes became a soft blue, and just like that, Christian was in my arms. His body shook from adrenaline and the cold, biting air.

He was weak, he would be until the sun came up, but I helped him into some warm clothes.

“Thank you, my love,” he mumbled as he placed his right arm around my shoulders so that I could support him. “You could have been killed though.”

“You would never kill me,” I say with confidence, even though I don’t know that for sure. “You love me too much.”

Once back home, I place my husband under a think goose feather blanket and brushed his freshly washed hair from off his forehead. The fire which burned brightly, filled the room with a comfortable warmth. Christian was hesitant to sleep, but tomorrow, people would be asking questions. I needed him to be in top notch condition. Slowly, his eyes drooped closed, and I carefully placed a gentle kiss against his forehead.

Werewolf or not, nothing will keep me from protecting this man. Absolutely nothing.


I hope you enjoyed! The idea for this story came from this 😀 (you’ll have to scroll down a little to see what I’m talking about)

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