there's a man in the woods

It all started out relatively harmlessly. Moving into the old little cottage, the one your grandmother had held so dearly to her chest. Memories etched into the very foundations - every nail and four-by-four laid on its soil echoed with ghosts of all that were and once was. You could remember running down the hallway, giggling like every happy child should. Those were better times, before you grew up and realized how things really were. But they were happier times, and you held onto them tightly.

-

There was a neighbor, just a few miles down. His name was Remus John Lupin, but he preferred to just be called by his name. He was no older than thirty-five and very polite, if a bit skittish and reserved. He wasn't what would be considered the end-all be-all of beauty, but he had his own charm. His eyes always crinkled when he smiled and there was an undeniable warmth to him. He only ever faltered when someone looked at the three scars that ran from above his brow to just below his cheek. He never did like when someone asked about those.

But Remus was polite - sweet, even - and you deeply enjoyed any conversations with him, no matter how fleeting. He had recently gotten a job as a professor to some fancy private school, or so you'd picked up through the odd ramble here or there. You were excited for him, and he was all but overjoyed for himself. You liked Remus, wanted good things for him. He was a good neighbor and a better man, even if he did have a temper. It was always around the full moon - he'd get snappy and irritable and always ashamed when he'd get too loud with you. Looking back, you feel stupid not connecting the dots quicker.

-

He'd been the first to warn you that the highlands held their own secrets, often quite closely guarded. To watch your step and always keep your wits about you, lest you end up hurt - or worse. Remus had lived here perhaps longer than you'd been alive, so it was natural you'd heed his warning. "Please" he'd said softly, welsh accent offering a lilt to his tone, "stay out of the woods. Awful things dwell there, and it wouldn't do well for you to venture far and get hurt."

You'd smiled and nodded, gently patting his hand as he held your own - your palm clasped firmly between both of his as tired hazel eyes looked deeply into your own. "I'll mind my step, don't worry. You best worry about yourself, Mr. Lupin. You look awful pale today - you sure you're alright?" you'd asked, in that same gentle tone you'd learned worked best when you wanted a real answer from him.

He'd given his own smile - one that didn't make his eyes crinkle, and his hands gently squeezed yours before he let go - and he nodded. "I'll be alright, don't fret. Just a good sleep and some tea should have me right as rain, as you americans say." And for that comment, he got a good-natured roll of the eyes and fondly-concerned glance. This time, the smile did reach his eyes - and you could content yourself with that.

-

The closer you look at the creature, the more you realize... this isn't a man. It's a goddamn werewolf. Yellow predatory eyes observe your every move, down to the mist filling the air as your warm breath is exhaled into the frosty night. Gray ears are perked and head tilted as it (he) stands up, up, up on back legs. The movement looks too human to be any sort of canine. It's hands could only be called hands, there was no mistaking them for paws. Long, elongated fingers and lanky limbs - like someone had taken a regular, albeit hairless, dog and stretched it to be human proportion.

There was no tail from what you could see, but it was thin - borderline skeletal. Thin lips curled back to reveal wickedly sharp teeth and it gives a howl. A sound of desperation, fear, anger. There was no hiding, perhaps even no running. As it dropped down to all fours, you take in the details of it's face - it's all you can do. And as those yellow eyes study you right back - an undeniable intelligence shining within them - you recognize familiar scars. Just like Remus, this long, distorted beast had three scars from the top of its brow to under its jaw. It couldn't be - but it made sense.

It- he clacks his jaws together, ears pinned back and lips still curled as a rumble bubbles up deeply within its chest. He was angry, and you could feel the malice radiating from him, like he couldn't wait to sink his teeth in and tear. But there was something else, maybe a hint of the human trapped within the beast. He hesitates, paw raised and the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the dirt. That hesitance is all you need - clicking off your flashlight and bolting for your back door, throwing it open and slipping inside. It slammed shut behind you with a bang, a sharp 'thwump!' echoing.

He was outside, and he was waiting. But you could be patient too. Locking every door and closing every blind, tying shut every curtain. Yellow eyes seem to glow in the darkness as he faded back into the treeline. But you knew. You knew. There was a man in the woods.

-

The next time you saw Remus, there was a guilt that clearly weighed heavy on his shoulders. He didn't need either of you to speak, he knew. Those yellow eyes you could still feel in the back of your mind, replaced by the soft and gentle hazel. Canine teeth begotten by something far more human. Grey, furless skin nowhere in sight - he was sun-kissed and freckled and peppered in faded, familiar scars.

"Remus, did you know?" you say softly, that same tone you'd always used when you wanted an answer from him. "There's a man, in the woods."