My Lucky Day, a Werewolf story by Jennifer Weigel
What’s a werewolf to do when the moon is (or isn’t) full?…
It was my Lucky Day.
It was a full moon after all, and St. Patrick’s Day to boot, and I was off work for a change of pace. Well, it was a great night anyway – working third shift security at the junkyard gets you all mixed up on when the supposed “day” is… Nonetheless, it was day to me even if it was after 10 PM, and I’ve never been one to care about the formality of the clock anyhow. I could feel it deep within my bones, it was going to be my Lucky Day, and no one was going to convince me otherwise.
I rubbed the rabbit’s foot in my pocket as I entered the gas station convenience mart. It was busy for this time of night, but no matter. It was a great night to buy a scratchers ticket. Maybe I’d get two and double my chances. Nah, why shell out more cash for an extra when the win was already a shoe in? Though they are fun to scratch off regardless. That ticket was going to be my train outta here, far away from the city to my dream-cabin in the woods surrounded by trees and rabbits and squirrels and raccoons where I could be one with nature.
I grabbed a milk chug and the last frosted sugar cookie emblazoned with the word “Lucky” scrawled upon its glazed surface waiting just for me. Cookies were always my favorite – I don’t care what kind, crunchy or chewy, they’re all good. Anyone with any sense knows not to touch the day-old donuts sitting out until they bear a stronger resemblance to crumbly dry Styrofoam circles than to food, and the brownies are always sub-par, besides which I’m not all that into chocolate and it’s bad for you anyway. But today they still had one cookie left, even now. It was a sure thing though; after all, it was my Lucky Day.
I opened the cookie and nibbled away at the velvety pastry while standing in line. It was just the right mix of crunchy and chewy with sweet buttery overtones. I savored every delectable morsel. The clerk threw some change and a pack of cigarettes across the counter to a waitress on her way home from the diner up the street still wearing her blue checkered uniform. The aroma of cheap coffee and blueberry pie wafted through the pervasive noxious cigarette-scented cloud that followed her everywhere. The clerk was too far away to tell.
There were a handful of teens just milling about the beer cooler, nondescript in their oversized denim jackets and their I’m-too-cool-to-see sunglasses at night. They smelled like a perpetual party at the keg. Wasn’t there a curfew? As a bunch of them poured together through the front door, unsurprisingly smuggling several beers out in their baggy saggy pants pockets, one of them bumped into me. I glared at the youth and growled, “Excuse me,” but he just grumbled as he wandered towards the front with his pack. Kids nowadays. Impossible.
The clerk called after them, “Hey there, hold up!”
A straggling nondescript teen standing behind me in line pulled a gun and shouted, “Don’t anybody move!”
All I could think was how dare you…? It’s my Lucky Day! Punk kids like these are always pissing on everyone else’s lawns – this is why there should be a curfew. The waitress in front of me leapt to the floor as the youth set his sights on the gas station clerk, who had reached behind the counter to extract a shotgun.
Things were about to get stupid… or crazy… or both. No matter, it wasn’t my neck on the line for a change. I was off work for the night and this wasn’t my territory anyway. I ate another bite of the cookie as I watched the development.
The teen shouted, “Get out of the way, Santa!”
How was I supposed to know he was talking to me? Yeah, I had thick white hair and was eating a cookie, but I had never been addressed as Santa before. Sure, I’d been called dawg, cur, mongrel, and I was even once mistakenly addressed as bitch, but never Santa. But then again, I’d forgotten it was a full moon, so Santa made a little more sense in that context I suppose, though Aqualung would have probably been more fitting. At any rate, I didn’t move in time.
The clerk jerked to the side and let loose with the shotgun, destroying a cardboard display and sending cheap crappy dime store candy flying everywhere like too much tire shredder shrapnel. The teen behind me fired his gun in response. I was livid. How dare they interrupt my Lucky Day?! I stroked the rabbit’s foot again before I lunged and snapped at the teen. He gasped, eyes growing wide like saucers and pointing at me with a quivering finger as he skidded backwards, turned tail, and ran.
The clerk lurched outside after him and readied his shotgun on the trash canister just beyond the front door, letting loose another couple of rounds at the fleeing kids as they sped off in a beater Cadillac. The diner waitress darted into the bathroom in the back corner of the convenience mart, slammed the door, and bolted it from inside. I stood there watching the scene unfold as I ate another bite of my cookie. There was blood on my hand. I sniffed it; it was mine.
I hadn’t realized the gun the teen had fired had clipped my side. Good thing he wasn’t using silver bullets. The wound was mending quickly as usual, with a fine coating of fur forming over the knitting flesh before smoothing to human skin by the light of the full moon. But the shirt was ruined. Crap. I’d have to borrow another one next month. I left a wad of cash on the counter to pay for my treats. I’ve never been all that good at math but it was more than enough I’m sure.
As I wandered out the door and down the street towards the junkyard, I finished off the cookie and guzzled the milk chug in one gulp. I stroked the rabbit’s foot again and then fingered the leather collar around my neck. Burned into the leather was my name, Lucky. It was still my Lucky Day, no matter what those punk teens and the gas station clerk did. Next full moon I’d have to return and get those scratchers tickets, and another cookie if they’ve got one. Until then, it’s back to the junkyard to howl at the moon.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
Those religious icons really get around. This time it’s a journey to visit the Deep Ones. And Dracula’s Castle. Because everyone has to be a tourist now and then, and what’s the point if you don’t pick up a souvenir or two?
This was a gift for a friend for their sea life monster theme bathroom. It started as one of those old school wood plaques where the picture is waxed on. And the eyes were originally that creepy – all I did was add the tentacles. So don’t blame the overall weirdness on me, it wasn’t all my doing.
Oh, and apparently Mary wanted in on the action, so she’s gone to Dracula’s Castle for a bite. She even brought back her own religious icons souvenirs…
So this one isn’t as old, nor is it real wood. But it still totally goes with Mary’s journey. And it’s also a little blacklight reactive with the flowers.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
So I just keep on going… Here are some more repaint porcelain figurines and other madcap painting. OK maybe some of them aren’t porcelain, but still totally redone.
This Pennywise clown started as some plastic figurine from Italy. I was drawn to this because of the pretty marble base. It’s a nice touch, don’t you think? I’ve seen others in this series and honestly they’re all kind of creepy to start with, so they really lend themselves towards repaint prospects. Perhaps I’ll pick up more to redo in similar ways later on… Oh, and the eyes are blacklight sensitive, in case he wasn’t creepy enough already.
With all of the new movie hype, I couldn’t resist a throwback to the classic Beetlejuice, and this little bride figurine and teddy bear were just too perfect. Featuring more blacklight sensitive accents, like her veil flowers. And I don’t know why she only has one glove, I blame it on the 1980s… Or maybe she was just that drunk (you’d have to be for that wedding)…
So yeah, all those preppers ready for the zombie apocalypse – you know some of them are gonna get bitten. It’s in the script, what can I say? More blacklight eyes, cause why not?
I admit I haven’t seen this film, but it sure looks fun. Mathilda, eat your heart out. Literally.
OK so this isn’t a repaint. Nor is it porcelain. What is it even doing here? Well, she’s cool and ready for a party and kinda reminded me of Abigail, so she sort of just tagged along. Sexy Sadie started as an Avon perfume bottle with a fragrance I didn’t care for (I think it was called Head Over Heels). Because honestly the bottle topper was all that mattered. And now she has her own disco dancing platform. What more could a vampish vixen want?
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
I wrote this script for Beyond the Veil awhile back, exploring the bond between two twin sisters, Edith and Edna, who had lived their lives together. There was a terrible car crash and someone didn’t make it. The other is trying to contact them beyond the veil…
Beyond the Veil Setting:
Two women reach out to one another individually in a séance setting.
One sits on one side of a dining table. The other sits at the other side. Each studies a candle just beyond her reach; there is darkness between the two candles. The long table is barely hinted at in the interstice between the two but it is clearly present.
The camera is stationary showing both in profile staring through each other.
The women are both portrayed by the same actress who is also the voice of the narrator, who is unseen. All three voices are identical so that it is impossible to tell which of the two women the narrator is supposed to represent.
Both women are spliced into the same scene. They are together but apart. The two candles remain for the duration of filming so that the two halves of the film can either be overlapped (so that both women appear incorporeal) or cut and sandwiched in the middle between the candles (so both women appear physically present). It is possible to set the scene thusly using both methods in different parts of the story, with both women seemingly flickering in and out of being, both individually and apart.
Script:
I. Black, audio only.
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
My sister didn’t make it.
II. Fade in to the long table with two lit candles; flames flickering.
Two women are just sitting at either end.
They stare blankly through each other.
Call and Response
Edith: Now I’m trying to contact her…
Edna: …beyond the veil.
Simultaneous:
Edith: Edna, do you hear me?
Edna: Edith, do you hear me?
Together (In Unison):
If you hear me, knock three times.
Narrator:
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Call and Response:
Edith: I miss you terribly.
Edna: I miss you so much.
Edith: Do you remember…
Edna: … the car crash?
Edith: We rolled…
Edna: … over the median.
Edith: There was fire.
Edna: There was smoke.
Edith: I could hear the sirens.
Edna: They were coming…
Edith: … to rescue us.
Edna: But they were so far away.
Edith: So far…
Edna: … away….
Simultaneous:
Edith: Are you okay?
Edna: Are you hurt?
Together (In Unison):
Knock three times for yes. Knock once for no.
Narrator:
Knock
– pause –
Knock
– pause –
Together (Syncopated):
What’s it like, on the other side?
– long pause –
Simultaneous:
Edith: I miss you, Edna.
Edna: I miss you, Edith.
Together (Syncopated):
It’s so lonely here.
Call and Response:
Edith: There’s no one here.
Edna: I’m all alone.
Edith: Without you…
Edna: …the spark of life…
Edith: …is gone…
Edna: … so far away.
– pause –
Together (Entirely Out of Sync):
It’s so dark.
III. Fade out to black
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
I didn’t make it.
I had planned to actually turn this into the video for which it was written, but quickly discovered that my plans for recording required a space that was too drastically different from my new house (and new large gaming table) and that my vision for filming could not be well-fully executed or realized. So now it exists as a script only.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
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