Free Night of the Werecat by R.L. Stine

sense the mice scurrying in the bushes . . . .
    No! she ordered herself. Stop thinking like that. It’s over! She sat back at her desk and finished her homework.
    Finally Wendy shut the book. She yawned and stretched. These last few days had been exhausting. She would go to bed early tonight.
    She put on her nightgown, then opened the window to let in the fresh night air. Then she lay down and was soon fast asleep.
    It seemed like only moments later that Wendy awoke. The full moon was high in the sky. Its light streamed in, illuminating the room almost like daylight.
    Why is it so bright? Wendy wondered. She remembered how bright the moon seemed when she had been a werecat. Panic rose in her chest.
    It’s just because the moon is full, she told herself. You aren’t wearing the charm. You won’t transform again.
    She punched her pillow and cradled her head in it. She turned and twisted, trying to find a comfortable position. She couldn’t relax.
    Why am I so restless? Her whole body felt tense, alert. Her arms and legs tingled.
    â€œNo,” she whispered. “It can’t be.”
    Her teeth and hands began to ache. Her skin started to itch.
    â€œNo,” she moaned. “I’m imagining it.”
    She sat up in bed. “I’m not . . .” she whimpered. “I can’t . . . ”
    Shuddering, she stared down at her hands.
    Her fingernails looked unusually long. And curved.
    Wendy couldn’t tear her eyes away. She watched the tawny hair sprout from her hands.
    She wasn’t imagining things.
    And it wasn’t over.
    She was turning into a werecat again.

18

    â€œN o!” Wendy cried “I won’t let it happen!”
    But the thick fur kept growing.
    I’m dreaming! she thought desperately. I must be. The charm is gone. I’m a normal human girl.
    She leaped off the bed and rushed to the mirror.
    Her eyes turned green. Her ears moved to the top of her head.
    She backed away from the mirror, then raced to the window. She slammed it shut. It’s the moon, she thought. I have to hide from the moonlight. She ducked into her closet, pulling it closed behind her.
    In the tiny space her harsh breathing sounded loud and ragged. She felt her heart hammering. And she felt the transformation taking place.
    There was no way to stop it.
    A moment later Wendy bounded out of the closet. As a werecat.
    She leaped up onto her dresser. Trembling with fear, she once again faced her reflection in the mirror.
    A fierce animal gazed back. A tawny-colored cat with a white star on its forehead.
    NO! NO! NO! screamed in her brain. It wasn’t the charm, Wendy realized. It was her. She was truly a werecat.
    She was terrified of what might happen. What she might do as a werecat. She had so little control. She had destroyed Tina’s couch. She got Shalimar in trouble. She hurt Nancy. She hurt herself.
    And she knew that the black werecat was out there.
    Waiting for her.
    Then I won’t go out! Wendy decided. I will fight my werecat instincts. I will stay safe inside.
    She glanced at the window. It was shut tight. Good, she thought with satisfaction. There was no way she could get out.
    Wendy jumped off the dresser and leaped onto her bed. She curled into a ball on the pillow. She was determined to go to sleep. When I wake up, I’ll be a normal girl again, she told herself. Human.
    But as hard as Wendy tried to keep her eyes shut, she couldn’t. The pull to go out was too strong. Images filled her mind, insects and animals, wonderful scents and places to explore.
    Fight it, she commanded silently.
    She had never felt so restless in her life. Her body actually began to twitch.
    She rose from the pillow and paced the room. She jumped to the floor, up to the dresser, back to the floor. Over and over.
    And with every step the desire to go outside became stronger.
    I’ll just peek out, she thought. That will be enough. I just want to