*The Werewolf**

*

This story happened to me in July 2006. My mother and I went to visit relatives in the Czech town of Olomouc—we have a country house there. After dinner, I went for a walk with my two local friends, Janek and Tomas. Olomouc is situated among forested hills, and we climbed one of them. On the way, Tomas started trying to scare me with stories about a werewolf living there. I was skeptical of his tales, as I didn’t believe in anything supernatural.

When we came across some tracks on the ground, it was already getting dark, and it was impossible to examine them closely. Tomas made an old record-like sound, pretending it was the werewolf’s tracks. On the way back home, Tomas walked behind Janek and me, constantly trying to scare us by acting out all sorts of nonsense. Suddenly, he screamed sharply and dashed past us at incredible speed. We hesitated but stayed put, thinking it was just another prank. But then Janek looked back and immediately ran after him. I didn’t want to be alone in the forest, so I also ran as fast as I could, without looking back, eventually catching up with the guys.

When we reached the yard, we caught our breath. Tomas started laughing, claiming he had tricked us again. But the fear in his eyes—genuine fear that I saw—made me uneasy. We said goodbye and went to our respective homes.

In our yard, there are two kennels housing two Leonberger guard dogs—Jack and Rex. Feeling uneasy after the strange behavior of the boys and Tomas’s stories, I brought the dogs inside. I went up to the second floor, took an axe from the storage room, and went to sleep holding it.

I woke up at night with the feeling that something was wrong. I got up from the bed and listened—something was rumbling downstairs. I grabbed the axe and a flashlight, wearing only my underwear and slippers, and went down the stairs.

As I descended, I saw the dogs. They were pressed against the stairs and growling in a suppressed, tense manner; their fur was bristled. They looked frightened—two huge dogs! I felt shivers run through my body. Reminding myself that I had the axe, I shakily descended further and stood behind the dogs. Our kitchen was on the balcony, behind a glass door—and there was someone inside. I barely shone the flashlight there and almost screamed before quickly switching it off.

Through the glass, I saw a silhouette: a thin, tall figure with short fur, unnaturally long limbs, long sharp ears, and a muzzle—not elongated, but protruding forward. I dropped the flashlight and clutched Jack’s scruff. In my panic, I forgot about the axe. Frozen, I watched as this creature tore through my kitchen. It moved extremely fast, constantly growling, then leaped out the window, shattering it, and vanished into the darkness.

My cousin later described what she saw a minute later:

*"I woke up and went to the bathroom, but as I came down the stairs, I saw you. You were standing with an axe in your hand, holding onto Jack. Rex was also sitting nearby. You all looked strange… When I came closer and touched you, you just fell as if you were made of wood. I screamed. Our parents ran in, turned on the lights, and tried to revive you with smelling salts, taking the axe from you first. When you came to, you couldn’t say anything except 'there,' pointing toward the kitchen. We went there and saw total chaos—the kitchen was wrecked, dishes and furniture on the floor, overturned and broken, scratches from large claws everywhere, and dirty footprints. The food left on the table was half eaten, half scattered across the floor. The tracks led to the broken window."*

I still don’t know what it was, but I lean toward the opinion that Tomas’s stories and the strange behavior of the boys on the hill were significant. I involuntarily began to believe in such things. And I still fear walking up that hill—even with dogs.