Estimated reading time: 13 minutes, 8 seconds.
The Werewolf: I was a newly minted nurse at the St. Agnes Hospital about five years ago. I had been trained extensively in taking care of patients of varying illnesses and conditions. I had hoped to be assigned to the pediatrics ward since I was more proficient in looking after children. Instead, I was assigned to the infectious ward. It wasn’t all that bad, really. The only drawback was I would work the night shift. This was something I wasn’t comfortable with, but eventually I got used to it. And this is where my story starts.
Before I start, let me tell you first about St. Agnes Hospital. It was the same hospital that my older brother was assigned to on his first day as a doctor. Like most new doctors, he was assigned to the emergency room and on his breaks, he would hear very interesting and otherwise scary stories that abound the hospital. There was a story about the ghost of a nun who would visit the rooms of patients, who would die the next day.
There was also the story about a nurse who supposedly disappeared during the war and even ghost children are said to play around the hallways. I must admit they are scary stories, but as a nurse, I had to prioritize the health and well-being of the patients. So as much as possible, I didn’t think much on it.
I started my shift like so. I would clock in at exactly 8pm, go to the nurse’s station and pick up the patient files for the night and go about my rounds. I would visit the usual patients such as Mr. Knox and old Mrs. Smith before heading back to nurse’s station and writing up my round notes. Sometimes we would get buzzes from the patient’s room; asking us if they could have a glass of water or someone to talk to. I didn’t mind those really. It was the least we could do to make their stay a little bit comfortable.
Often times, these patients’ conditions would improve and they’d be transferred to regular rooms and then there were those who stayed until they were discharged or passed on. Thankfully, I haven’t had any patient pass away on my shift at all. Sometimes, we’d get a late admission and we’d be assigned to watch over them until our shift ended.
On one particular night shift, I was clocking in as usual when my superior told me that we had a late admission and that I would be taking care of him for the next three days. I took the patient’s chart, smoothed out my uniform and walked to his room to greet him. I knocked on the door and walked in. “Hello, good evening.” I said. I stared at the patient as he sat upright on the bed, looking out at the window.
He looked to be in his early 40s, but he was already graying in the hair. He had very deep set eyes and he was always looking to his side, as if he was checking to see where he was or who was with him. He had somewhat disheveled hair and on his arms were multiple deep cuts. I wonder where he got those cuts. I looked at his medical chart for a name. Avery Shand.” How are we feeling, Mr. Shand?” I politely asked.
Mr. Shand didn’t respond. I cautiously walked over to him and said. “I’ll be taking your vitals if that’s alright.” This time, Mr. Shand looked at me and then gave me a nod as if allowing me to do so. I went to check his pulse and his heartbeat. So far, they were normal. I checked his temperature and his body reflexes. Normal. I observed his breath and overall demeanor. It was normal. I then asked again.
“So, how are you feeling? Do you feel any pain? Are your wounds hurting?” Mr. Shand didn’t reply and just remained silent. How this guy could be in the infectious ward if I didn’t know what was ailing him. There were patients who wouldn’t tell us their problem and it would irritate us so much to figure it out.
Still, I kept a cool head and said. “Is there anything you need that we can get you?”
Mr. Shand looked at me and said in a hoarse voice. “Water…”
Okay, so at least he’s hydrating himself. Of sorts. I walked to the door and as soon as I held the door knob, I heard Mr. Shand speak to me. “When is the next full moon?” What a very odd question. I looked over my shoulder and replied. “Probably three days from now.”
Mr. Shand settled back into his bed and looked at the window. I then walked out of the room and made my way back to the nurse’s station to get him his glass of water. “So, what does the patient want?” one of the nurses asked.
“Just a glass of water.” I replied as I filled up a mug with cold water. “I can’t seem to get him to tell me what’s wrong with him. I don’t even think he’s ill. Who admitted him?”
“No idea.” Another nurse replied. “But he just walked up to the station and said he was admitting himself.”
“I wonder where he got those cuts.” I asked, thinking about the cuts. “You don’t suppose…”
“You know what I think?” my supervisor said. “I think he self mutilates. That’s probably why he’s here. You have to keep an eye on him if he tries cutting himself.”
I nodded and carried the mug with water back to Mr. Shand’s room. As I watched him empty the mug, I couldn’t help but think of several possible reasons why he was admitted. Either way, I couldn’t shake the notion that he would look at me from time to time with a very fixated look.
I continued watching Mr. Shand for the rest of the night, taking note of his vitals and how he behaved himself. I looked at how he would look out at the window. I then asked. “You seem to like looking outside the window. Is there anything you like to look at?”
“The night sky.” He replied in the same hoarse voice. “It is very calming.”
“I agree.” I said. Then taking a deep breath, I asked him. “Mr. Shand, what happened to your arm? Where did you get those cuts?”
Suddenly, Mr Shand quickly covered his wounded arm with his free hand and glared at me. “It is none of your business. I want to rest. Please leave.” He laid back on the bed and turned his back to me. Not wanting to irritate and make him uncomfortable, I complied with his wish and left the room. I sighed and walked back to the nurses’ station and began to work on my reports.
Two hours passed and some of us were feeling hungry. So we agreed that one of us would stay in the station while the others went out to buy food at the nearby convenience store. I volunteered to stay behind and asked them to buy me some microwaved food. I sat in the station and began to write my report. It was an odd feeling to be all by myself, but I kept telling myself that it was just me being hungry and I had nothing to be afraid of. I reached for a packet of crackers in my drawer and ate some while I wrote my report.
While I was writing, I heard a strange noise coming from outside. It sounded like a pack of dogs barking and howling. I wondered if there were any dogs nearby or something. I brushed it off, thinking that if there were any dogs around, they were probably in heat or were a chasing a cat or something. Again, I told myself. There was nothing to be afraid of. I busied myself with writing the report when I heard a patient’s room buzz. I looked at the control pad and saw that it was Mr. Shand’s room. I got up and walked to his room.
“Hello Mr Shand.” I said as I walked inside. “Is there anything you need?”
Mr. Shand was still staring at the window with his back turned at me. I walked closer and asked again. This time, he looked over his shoulder and said. “Do you have a dog?”
I blinked as I looked at him. What an extremely odd question. I replied. “No. I don’t have a dog.”
Mr Shand then went back to staring at the window and said. “You can go now.”
I left his room and made my way back to the nurses’ station where the other nurses had just arrived with dinner for me. As I ate the takeout they had gotten me, I told them about how Mr. Shand called me just to ask if I had a dog. I told them how odd it was and they told me that I would encounter really odd patients in the long run and I just had to get used to it. I took their advice to heart and I went through the night shift completely calm.
For the next two days since being admitted, Mr. Shand continued to baffle most of the nurses. He wouldn’t tell us exactly what his ailment was, he wouldn’t take his medications and he would call us at the station only to ask us strange, unrelated questions like “What is your favorite animal?” or “What time is it?” I would do my rounds and visit Mr. Shand and every now and then, I would notice that he would not touch his food. I would then ask him.
“Mr. Shand, why didn’t you eat your meal?”
Mr. Shand looked at me and said with a low growl. “I only eat meat.” He pointed at the fish and vegetables with disgust.
“Mr. Shand, this meal is specifically made for you.” I said as I looked at his chart. Mr. Shand’s chart, based on the lab work conducted, showed that he had a large amount of iron in his body. Which meant that his body was lacking the other essential nutrients. “You need to have your vegetables and your fish…”
“I only eat meat.” He repeated, before turning his back on me. I then took the unfinished meal away and left the room still confused as ever. In fact, Mr. Shand was a very curious and almost strange patient. He wouldn’t eat anything unless it had meat, he would always ask what day it was and much more. More importantly, the more I visited his room, the more I felt uneasy being around Mr. Shand. He would look at me with that same fixed focus and would let out occasional low growls. And he would always ask me when the next full moon would be. I didn’t understand why he seemed to want to know when the next full moon was.
On the third night, I clocked in as usual and went about doing my rounds. I passed by a window and saw that it was a full moon. Maybe Mr. Shand will be happy to know tonight is a full moon.” I thought to myself as I walked to his room. “Mr. Shand?” I said knocking on the door. “It’s a full moon tonight.” When I didn’t hear anything on the other side, I knocked again and went inside his room.
I stumbled back in complete horror as I stood in his room. The room looked as if somebody had ransacked it. The lights were flickering and I could see a few of them had broken light bulbs. The cabinets had large scratches on them and one door had been pulled off from its hinges. The bed had been turned over completely and its mattress had been ripped apart in various places. Even the bedding and the curtains were torn to shreds.
I looked around for Mr. Shand. What happened, I started to ask myself. Suddenly, I heard a familiar growl. I looked and saw a shape crouched in the corner of the room. “Mr. Shand?” I said walking towards the shape. “Mr. Shand, are you alright? Did you fall off the-“I stopped midsentence as I saw the shape slowly get up. I stared at the shape and I slowly made out its peculiar features.
The shape was a creature and was at least 6 feet tall. It had dark grey hair all over its body and its legs, if they were even legs, were long and bent like a dog’s hind legs. Its arms were long and its hands had long fingers with equally long and sharp claws. Its head terrified me the most was the creature’s head. It had a long snout with hair all over and large ears that pointed up. It had bright yellow eyes and a jaw that showed long sharp fangs. It was a wolf’s head.
I stumbled back in fear yet again and I noticed that the creature was wearing the same hospital gown that Mr. Shand was wearing. It even had the same wounds on its arm as Mr. Shand. Then, it dawned on me. And to be honest, I didn’t even want to consider it at first. “Mr.…Mr. Shand. Is that you?” I cautiously asked.
The creature began to snarl at me and then it started to growl and walk towards me menacingly. I tripped and fell to the ground and slowly began to stagger away as the creature hissed and growled, its mouth gaping open with saliva dripping down. I started to tremble in fear and then, as if something primeval inside me had stirred, I raised the clipboard I held in my hands and swung it across the creature’s face, striking it with a force so strong that I could hear it grunt in pain.
It looked at me with an angry look and growled once more. It raised its hand as if to strike back. I raised my arms, attempting to shield myself and closed my eyes, waiting for it to happen. There was a profound silence; why wasn’t the creature attacking? I opened my eyes to look. The creature’s face was just a few inches away from mine. I quickly covered my mouth, trying my best not to scream or do anything. Then the creature lifted its head and let out an unearthly howl and ran towards the window and jumped out.
I was silent for a moment and then, after realizing what had happened, I got up and ran to the window to see where the creature had gone. I looked out and saw nothing. I quickly ran back to the nurses’ station and told the rest of the nurses what had happened. At first, they didn’t believe a word I said, so we went to the room. Upon seeing the ransacked room, they began to look around and then they asked me where Mr. Shand had gone.
To be honest I have no idea where he was. And quite frankly, I don’t even think Mr. Shand was human to begin with.
I still work at St. Agnes’ Hospital, but this time in the pediatric ward. However, that night in the infectious ward would go on to be one of those unexplained stories that continue to baffle and terrify everyone assigned to the ward. Especially me. I can’t help but think of where Mr. Shand was or what that creature was. And whenever I go home, I always have this weird and uneasy feeling that someone or something was watching me in the dark. This usually happens whenever I go home at night….during a full moon…
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