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She grabs the knob, but she finds herself hesitating.
Stan has gone deathly quiet. Not a single sound has come out of his room for the past hour. And it’s getting pretty creepy being in the darkness of the Mystery Shack by herself.
She frowns, placing her head against the door.
“Grunkle Stan? Are you feeling better? You don’t have to hide.”
“You don’t want to see me...” his breathing heavy, his voice has a slight growl.
“I’ve seen you before no need to get shy!”
“No…No, your Grunkle Stan needs to be alone in the dark.”
“You’ve been doing that for an hour; you’re just scared and moody again.”
The man does not respond.
Mabel sighs to herself, entering the room rather quietly.
The elderly man remains covered by the shadows. He heaves and steps away, the floor creaking under his weight.
A deep growl rumbles within the room.
“Grunkle Stan?”
“Get out…go.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m safe right?”
The figure waits a bit before responding.
“Maybe, I think I almost lost it during the-”
“But you didn’t, so as long as you don’t freak, you’re ok.”
The man shifts from his place by a few inches, giving an animalistic grunt.
From what could be made from the shadows, his posture is slightly hunched, and his legs look off. Another feature sways behind him, almost touching the floor.
“Mabel, give me a bit. I can’t snap again.”
“I know you’re scared but I rather be with you than stay alone while the others are out there.”
“I’m sure Ford got them covered.”
“It’s not the right them I’m talking about.”
A howl echoes from the woods and the man turns his head towards it. A snarl comes out of his lips, and he crouches low to the floor like an animal.
He turns his attention back to his great-niece, and he rises up slowly.
He quietly looks around, giving a grunt, and places his understanding eyes back on her.
“I get your point. Be-be careful then, I’ll try to keep myself like this.”
Mabel can sense the shame coming from her Grunkle.
She nods, smiling warmly, approaching the large figure carefully.
“You can handle it.”
“I…I look like how those wolfmen looked when I was a kid. All rabid and messed up, except there’s no foam.”
“I don’t think that.”
She reaches for his hand, his old large wrinkled hands revealing its new appearance in the moonlight.
Now having long, huge claws and much more gray hair, the sleeve around it torn up like confetti, his hands appearing more like that of a paw.
The beastly hand draws away, shaking.
She clasps his oversized hand, and the paw gently curls its fingers.
A bit of his eye is revealed in the moonlight, brown and glowing, bestial but yet human at the same time.
The silhouette of his head no longer resembles its human shape.
The softest whine breaks her heart.
“Sweetheart…”
The burly arms wrap around her carefully and lift her from the floor, now seeing that his suit is a mess with fur pouring out from it.
He lowers his head, rubbing his snout against her. Mabel strokes his furry face.
“I not gonna leave alone with those mangy jerks. You’re safe pumpkin.”