The Forgotten Act

"When you open your eyes, you will hear the sound of a bell. What that bell means is that the time is midnight, and you will turn into a werewolf. You will howl at the moon, and slash at a woman's throat sitting in the front row!"

I stand still, not moving, my eyes tightly shut.

"When you hear the bell again, it means you have transformed back into your mortal human self!"

I hear the snapping of fingers, and my eyes open. I am fully aware of the State Fair's audience as the hypnotist crosses my field of vision. A bell chimes. I jump to my hypnotist's side, snarling, threatening him with my outstretched claw hands. The audience laughs.

Leaping to the floor, I throw my head back into a fit of howling, which leads to a coughing fit. Damn cigarettes.

I see a woman wearing a yellow sundress. She screams while laughing as I try to claw at her throat.

A second bell chimes, but I don't hear it. It chimes on the side of my deaf ear.

Waking up in your bed covered in someone else's blood is quite a fright. I followed the trail back to the front door, which had claw marks and blood smeared handprints along the decorative glass. Was it just a dream? I remembered wandering in the house foyer in the dark, bumping into things. When I made my way to my room, I collapsed on the bed for sheer exhaustion.

I took a long, excruciatingly hot bath, scrubbing the blood, hair and gristle from my fingernails. After what seemed like hours, I drained the tub and dried myself off.

In my office, I turned on the PC and accessed the camera tape from the front door entryway. I found the moment where I entered the video.

What a horror I was, scratching at the door like a dog left out all night to do god knows what. Or a wolf.

I had pounded the glass with an open hand, and found myself shocked that it hadn't broken last night. When my elbow hit the doorbell, it was as if my entire body had seized. I stopped making those growling sounds. I stopped gnashing my teeth.

In the video, I retrieved my key and let myself in.

What a nightmare, this hypnotist's act. I wondered what bad news the day would bring, when a loud knock erupted at the front door. 

I finished drying myself with a bath towel.

"Mr. Mike Thomas. It's the police!"

I felt a dread spread from my back to my head.

"Mr. Thomas, please answer the door!"

I sat on the edge of the bed.

The doorbell rang.

I leaped, viciously, from my den.

*****

This originally appeared in a comment section of a @mindover Flash Fiction Writing Prompt Challenge.  I had a hard time finding it, and thought it would be great to keep at home here on my own blog page to share with my followers, with added imagery to spice it up! (All images from pixabay.com under  CC0 License.)

I hope that you enjoyed this short fiction! Many more stories will be on the way... follow me for future fiction -- 

@inkbit