The Big Bad Werewolf

The Big Bad Werewolf

While the Vampire has particular association with Eastern Europe, the Werewolf has often been the great menace of Northern and Western Europe. Some have speculated that the werewolf has its origins in Nordic Mythology involving Gods who transform into wolves and bears. There are even links to witchcraft and occasionally vampirism, where both creatures can take the form of wolves. It is interesting to note that descriptions of vampires do not always sound much different than werewolves. Both creatures have fangs, claws, and eyebrows that meet in the middle. Werewolves are unique in that the ring finger is as long or maybe even longer than the middle finger. While there are a few methods for identifying werewolves in their human form, the most common was based on the belief that the hair of a werewolf only retracts within the skin. A simple but painful peeling of the suspect's skin back to reveal any hair. One victim died from complications of such an investigation in 1541 (Strange Stories, Amazing Facts.)

In parts of Eastern Europe, the werewolf is know as the Vircolac. Unlike the traditional werewolf portrayed in Hollywood movies, this beast in not released by the full moon. The vircolac is often a person who fails to integrate into society. In my novel, Carpathian Nights, I particularly spend a chapter going into the characteristics of this more traditional monster. In general, the association of the werewolf to the moon is only because wolf activity is more apparent during the brighter phases of the moon.

Comments

Carpathian Nights is my first novel and a significant effort to move beyond Hollywood stories of Vampires and Werewolves to the original folklore of Romania. It is set in a Sixteenth Century village among the Carpathian Mountains. The novel spans the course of one year where each chapter centers on the folklore of each respective month.

An excerpt from Carpathian Nights:

The beautifully carved grave markers cast long moon shadows.Each was crowned by a thick layer of blue-tinted snow.The detailed woodwork and the particulars concerning the occupant lying beneath lay shrouded in the gloom of the night.None of these facts registered with Father Sovata.Instead, he focused on the silhouette of the enormous wolf rising from a nearby grave, dragging the remains of an old woman.

The whole impression was of a supernatural thing, as if the wolf were materializing through layers of casket, soil, and snow to ascend to the surface. While this was the general appearance, the priest knew or thought he knew that the image was an illusion and that the whole occurrence, though disturbing and repulsive, was a natural and understandable phenomenon. This was a season of hunger. It was only natural that wolves would grow daring in their pursuit of food. In either case, his impulse to cross himself seemed like a prudent thing.

The wolf spotted the priest at nearly the same moment he spied it. The beast froze, all absolutely still save the movement of eyes that seemed to glow a dull amber in the darkness. Father Sovata and the wolf eyed each other for some moments, then a low, reverberating growl arose from some echoing chamber deep within the animal. Small cornices of snow crumbled from the tops of several of the grave markers.

The priest slowly moved away as unobtrusively as he could until he was within dashing distance of the rectory. Only then did he bolt for safety. He glanced backward as he cleared the threshold. Yet that brief instance produced the indelible image of the wolf sprinting across the graveyard, triumphantly leaping over the low fence with its prize.It then horribly lost its grip on the meal as the old woman snagged on the iron spikes that crowned the fence. The wolf, with visible regret, bounded into the night, leaving the woman in the attitude of a macabre scarecrow, guarding judgment day's harvest against nocturnal scavengers.