The Lycanthrope Club Vignettes - Coming Clean (Patreon)

Melinda Cooper's ears twitched as she picked up the dull muted rumble of the garage door. She glanced over her shoulder from her desk in the direction of the sound. There was silence. A few seconds later, she heard a car door open and slam shut, soon followed by the noise of the garage door closing. A faint stench of car exhaust reached her preternaturally sensitive nose. Her lips tightened. She started to rise but then stopped. She sat there for a time, hands clutching the armrests as though she were just about to stand. Then, she sat back with a sigh.

Maybe she should give it another day or two. Maybe a week? It wasn't as though there was a deadline or time limit. Or maybe, despite what Yvette had claimed, they were better off not knowing. Melinda didn't know Yvette's parents well, but she knew hers.

"No," whispered Melinda, pushing these thoughts aside.

She took a deep breath, stood, turned and stepped out of her room.

She felt a little lightheaded as she walked. Even after everything she had gone through over the last half year she couldn't remember ever feeling this scared. It wasn't an ordinary kind of fear, either. It lacked the heart-pounding rush of imminent danger and shock of terror; it manifested as a pervasive, creeping sense of doom and foreboding. Logically, she knew it wouldn't be the end of the world. From a strictly pragmatic point of view, chances were good it wouldn't change much. Why then, was she shaking?

Melinda gripped the wooden banister tightly as she descended the staircase. Below, her mother was in the kitchen with her father. The latter had just finished work and was describing his day while the former was listening as she waited for the oven to heat. Both looked up and smiled as their daughter approached.

"Hiya sport," said her father brightly.

Her mother gave her father a look, which he noticed.

"Er, sorry," he said, grinning foolishly. "I said I'd stop calling you that."

Somehow, that last remark almost made Melinda call the whole thing off. Her hands briefly clenched into fists.

"Is...everything alright?" inquired her mother, noticing her distress.

Marshaling every last ounce of her nerve, Melinda spoke.

"Mom, dad," she said stiffly. "Can we...I need to talk to you about something. It's important." She gestured behind her. "Can we go to the living room?"

Her mother's expression turned as grave as Melinda's. Her father appeared more confused than worried.

"Hey, come on, give me a break!" he said, somewhat indignantly. "I've been calling you sport since you were three. It just slipped out."

"Dear, I think this is about..." her mother trailed off. She nodded her head from side to side with a queer look.

"Oh, um..." said her father, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

Bewildered but determined to see this through, Melinda beckoned for them to follow.

"Alright," said Melinda's mother.

The three of them left the kitchen, walked through the foyer and entered a white carpeted room with a set of plush furniture, a black piano and a low yet heavy-looking laminated wooden table. It was very quiet.

As her parents sat on the sofa Melinda walked over to the window and shut the curtains.

"Er, I don't think that's necessary, dear," said her mother.

Melinda didn't reply. She turned the lights on and sat on a nearby smaller but identically upholstered couch facing her parents. She avoided their gaze for a few seconds, trying to organize her thoughts. Her father cleared his throat. Melinda looked up. The two of them were sitting there, waiting patiently. She realized she had no idea where to start.

"So, is everything okay?" asked her father.

"It's...about what happened when we went camping," began Melinda uneasily. "I, uh, guess it all started there."

Her parents looked nonplussed.

"Is it still bothering you, dear?" said her mother.

"Uh...."

"It's okay. You can tell us," said her mother earnestly. "If you're having...nightmares about what happened out there, we can help."

"What? No, no," said Melinda quickly, shaking her head.

"Are you sure?" asked her mother.

"Positive," said Melinda firmly. Then, she hesitated, realizing that wasn't quite true. "I'm not saying it was fun or that I'm completely over it, but it didn't, like, psychologically scar me," she said, shrugging diffidently.

"All right," said her mother nodding.

"So, if it's not that, then it's the, uh..." said her father, wiggling his hand.

"Sorry, but what exactly do you think this is about?" asked Melinda. She knew she was just delaying but was also genuinely curious.

Both her parents frowned. Her father put his hand over her mother's hand.

"We have noticed you've been spending a lot of time with your friends from lacrosse and the cheerleading squad," began her mother in an odd voice. "We were so happy when you started socializing more. But we were surprised by...how close you've come to them."

"Uh...okay."

"Look," said her father, sighing. "Let's cut to the chase. A couple weeks back we were up a little later than usual. We heard a noise outside and saw you in the backyard." He grimaced uncomfortably before continuing. "Naked. With a girl."

Absolute silence followed. Melinda stared at her parents. She felt as though her mind had short-circuited. Every time she tried to form a coherent thought it immediately dissipated like dust in a windstorm. Her mouth opened and shut several times.

"We want you to know we aren't angry," said her mother slowly, though there was a slight crack in her voice. "We accept you the way you are-"

"No!" shouted Melinda more loudly than she had intended. Her parents almost leapt in their seats. "I'm not..." she shook her head "I have a boyfriend, remember? Phillip?"

Her mother and father looked at each other.

"We... were wondering about that," said her mother uneasily. "We, uh, thought you might...might..."

"I'm not bi either, mom," sighed Melinda. "It's good to hear you'd be fine with me being gay or bi, but I only like guys, okay?"

"Oh, good," exclaimed her father, relieved.

Melinda shot him a shocked glance.

"Not-that-it's-wrong-or-anything," he blurted, raising his hands defensively.

"Of course not," added her mother, just as quickly.

Melinda groaned inwardly. She'd long suspected Heidi harbored some same-sex tendencies but she'd never shown overt interest in any of the girls in their little coterie, Melinda included. She wasn't sure about any of the new recruits but time would tell.

"So...why were you in the backyard without your clothes?" inquired her mother curiously, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Melinda winced.

"It's...complicated, but it is related to what I want to talk to you about," said Melinda. The confusion over her sexual preference, awkward as it had been, had relieved some of the tension. She finally felt ready to reveal her secret.

"Well?" said her father.

Melinda took a deep breath.

"When we went camping...the thing that bit me wasn't just some animal," she said slowly. "It was..." she hesitated and then shook her head "Look, I think it'd be better if I just showed you first."

"Showed us what?"

Melinda looked cautiously around the room. The curtains on the exterior window behind her were fully closed and the only other window in the living room looked out into the backyard. Someone would have to be standing in their yard directly in front of the window to see her from where she was sitting. Still, the possibility bothered her. Unfortunately, the window in question had no curtains or blinds. Melinda reluctantly rolled back the sleeves on her right arm. She gazed down at her pale yet sinewy flesh. As skilled as she was getting at this, there were still times it simply overwhelmed her, especially when she was nervous or angry. Like now. She glanced up at her parents. They were waiting patiently for her to do whatever she was about to, albeit with increasingly concerned expressions.

"Just...don't freak out or anything," said Melinda.

She concentrated. An all-too familiar warmth soon enveloped her hand. It began running up her shoulder but then she relaxed the rest of her body, isolating it. She felt her pulse quicken but kept her attention locked on her hand. It reddened noticeably and then her fingers began to swell as though inflamed. Melinda heard her mother gasp but did not let this distract her. Controlling the transformation like this demanded absolute focus yet absolute relaxation. It made tightrope walking seem like child's play.

Her hand's skin darkened and turned...rougher, almost leathery. Coarse black hair sprouted across the back of her hand and rapidly spread down her fingers - which had lengthened as well as widened. Then, sharp, curved claws jutted from her fingertips.

"Jesus Christ!" shrieked Melinda's father.

His panicked scream almost broke her concentration. Her entire body throbbed and the transformation briefly extended along the rest of her arm, but through sheer force of will Melinda managed to push it back down. She exhaled as though exhausted, which wasn't too far removed from the truth.

"Okay, that's enough," she breathed, flexing her transformed hand. It now very much resembled a monstrous paw several sizes bigger than her other, still human hand. She looked up at her parents and saw that her father had scrambled to his feet and was standing a foot or two away from her, eyes wide as dinner plates. Her mother was still on the sofa but had scooted away and was leaning against the backrest, her eyes as wide as her father's. Both of them reeked of fear.

Melinda briefly focused on her hand again and it quickly shrank back down to its original form.

"The thing that bit me was a werewolf," said Melinda bluntly. "I'm a werewolf. I'm been a werewolf ever since. This isn't a trick. It's real."

Her parents were silent for a good ten seconds. Their soft, rapid breaths hung in the air. Eventually, her father swallowed, then cautiously edged around the sofa and sat down. Her mother didn't move; she seemed paralyzed. Her expression was unreadable to Melinda, even with her supernaturally acute empathy.

"It's not what you think," continued Melinda. "I don't go crazy when I change. I'm still me. I can even control the transformation." She waved the hand she had changed. "Except when there's a full moon. No choice, then."

"Is that why you...shit, Melinda, is that why you were out that night?" said her father hoarsely.

"Uh, yeah," said Melinda, slightly surprised he had figured it out so quickly. "I usually go out into the wildlife preserve since it's so close. Spend the night there with friends and come back late in the evening or morning."

"Friends?" croaked her mother.

Melinda winced.

"Yeah, friends," she said. "All the other girls - they're werewolves too."

Her mother made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Melinda felt an icy-cold pang grip her stomach. She hated seeing her like this.

"W-W...Why didn't you tell us?" said her father, sounding more sad than angry.

Melinda had been expecting this question but still didn't have an answer. Not an answer she was satisfied with, at least.

"I...don't know, really," said Melinda miserably. "At first it was, like, kind of my special secret. Something that just belonged to me and I wanted to keep it that way. Then, as time passed I...I just didn't want to make things more complicated than they already were."

"Complicated? Complicated?" growled her father, throwing out his arms. "Melinda I...for something like this you...you can't hide something like this from your parents!"

"I know," said Melinda, shutting her eyes. "I should have told you sooner. A lot sooner."

"Damn right you should have!" he shouted.

"Easy, dear," said Melinda's mother, at last stirring from the sofa.

"Wha-...come on, you can't seriously sit there an-"

"It's not exactly an easy subject to broach," she her mother. Though not crying, her eyes were puffy, red, and moist.

Her father opened his mouth, and slowly shut it. He slumped back in the sofa, gaze downcast. He resembled a deflated balloon.

There was yet another long silence. The three Coopers sat there for a time, their gazes drifting here and there without meeting. Then, her mother sat up in her seat and leaned forward.

"Why don't you start from the beginning, dear?" she said solemnly, addressing Melinda. "And I mean the very beginning - right after the...incident at the park?"

Melinda looked up and nodded curtly.

* * *

"A curfew?" repeated Melinda in disbelief.

"I think it's perfectly reasonable, Melinda," said her mom as-matter-of-factly. "Especially on school nights."

"Mom I...I've been doing this for over half a year and it hasn't impacted my schoolwork at all." said Melinda.

"I beg to differ. This explains all those mornings where you looked like you were about to fall asleep despite supposedly getting a full night's rest."

"But I need to go out on full moon nights," whined Melinda. "Emphasis on the need part. It's...like baked in to me now. I'll go nuts if I don't have a good run out in the forest with the gals."

"I'm not saying you can't go," said her mother. "I don't like the fact you're trespassing, but I trust you when you say it's something you have to do. But you still need to be back in the house by the hour we set."

"But it's soooo early! I'm not even sure I'll be able to change back by then."

"Then you can stay in your room as a werewolf until morning," said her father, almost smugly. He chuckled. "God, I can't believe I just said that!" He laughed.

"Just...give me another hour!" pleaded Melinda.

"No."

"Please!"

"No!"

"Pleasssse?"

Her mother sighed.

"Another hour - IF it's not a school night," she said, raising a finger. "And that's final."

"Oh, one more thing. If you're going to go hunting deer, you're buying a license," said her father firmly.

"What?" said Melinda.

"What?" said her mother.

"Those license exist for a reason, Melinda," said her father, folding his arms. "You shouldn't even be hunting on a preserve - that's whole point - but if you're going to do it, you should at least try to follow the rules of hunting."

There was a pause.

"Isn't that going a bit far, dear?" said Melinda's mother, who looked as though she were about to break out laughing.

"Nope. First thing tomorrow we're going down to the Sport and Fishing Pro and picking up a license." He grinned. "I'm actually kind of looking forward to it - never thought she'd be into hunting!"

"For the love of-...fine, fine," said Melinda rolling her eyes.

"We'll talk more about this soon, dear," said Melinda's mother, rising from the sofa. She checked her watch. "Goodness it's late! And I haven't even started making dinner yet."

"I'll order a pizza," said Melinda father, reaching for his phone. He paused, and then grinned at Melinda. "Lemme guess, a carnivore special for you spor-...Melinda?"

"Ugh, dad!" groaned Melinda.

"So, yes?"

"Yeah, whatever," sighed Melinda. "I'm...I gotta go decompress after all this. I'll be in my room."

"No howling at the moon while you're there."

"Da-ad!"

"Just having a little fun."

With one final harrumph, Melinda stomped down the hall. Melinda's mother and father watched her go.

"Well, she's still a teenager," said her mother.

"Yup," said her father.

"...Do you think she might actually howl at the moon?" said her mother after a moment's pause.

"Is it full tonight?"

"Not sure."