Author: Michelle Franklin, Word Count: 1,169
Featured in Spooky Archaeological Story Moot: Live Stream – 2026
“The Monster Re-Homing Agency is not an orphanage. It is not an adoption service and does not offer fostering. Instead, we at the MRA work directly with families to match monsters with their forever homes. We believe that helping monsters thrive in natural environments is the best way to integrate them into human society. Remember, giving a monster much-needed love and care is all they need to help them go from fearsome friend to family.”
Maddy was just considering what she had best do for dinner when there was a knock at the front door. “Yes, just a moment!”
She was expecting it to be the post, but when she opened the door, an enormous shadow lengthened across the floor and reach halfway to the kitchen. She looked up, and standing on the threshold was the biggest man she had ever seen. He was not only tall, standing above seven feet, but his shoulders were as wide as the doorframe. He looked like the human personification of an iron gym, only wearing a flannel shirt and in possession of remarkably good looks. Everything about him was muscular—even his smile flexed—but it seemed natural, as though he was born as muscle and the bones grew to move everything out of the way. He was certainly handsome, with his dark grey hair, wide jaw, thick neck, and grey eyes, but his gaze was somehow unsettling.
“Am I expecting you?” said she charily, holding the door half-open.
The man hemmed. “Hello,” he beamed, looking as though he was telling himself to remember to smile, “I’m your new werewolf.”
“Oh!” Maddy reached for a paper by the door and read it over again. “Darren, is it?”
“Yes.” He nodded as if mentally wagging his tail.
Maddy was thoroughly confused. She was holding the ‘This is Your New Family’ welcome slip he had received the day before and frantically going over all the information. On it was the name, age, birthdate, and photo of her new werewolf, but the photo was of a very nice looking large grey dog. She held it up to measure it against the hulking man at the door and thought someone somewhere must have made some mistake.
“I’ve had all my shots and vaccines,” Darren announced, presenting his papers, “and I have no fleas or worms.”
He handed over his certificate: it gave the history of his treatments (up to date), his age, his weight, his eye colour, fur colour, said his temperament was shy, did not like other werewolves but was a very good boy, and was perfect for someone with no animals in the house.
“Twenty years old?” Maddy asked, reading over his age.
“That’s forty-one in werewolf years.” Darren stuck a finger in his mouth and pulled his cheek to the side, to show his back fangs. “I have all my wisdom teeth.”
Maddy was already having regrets. “Are you an indoor wolf or an outdoor?”
“Indoor. I’m perfectly housetrained.”
“Yes, well.” She turned away, realizing his eyes were glowing slightly. “You had better come in.”
He came inside and took off his shoes, but having a giant man stand in a small house was like having a double-door fridge take up all the living space. He went around and quietly sniffed everything in the living room, and Maddy realized she had no idea what to do with him. What did werewolves eat? Did they read books or watch TV? Did they scratch the door when they needed to go for walkies?
“Your home is beautiful,” said Darren, marvelling at everything.
Maddy smiled sheepishly and moved into the kitchen. “Can I get you something? I realized I don’t even know what you like.”
“I like what most people do. Grilled meat, cold cheese from the fridge, walks in the woods, and good web design.”
“Any allergies?”
“Onions and chocolate, but I can have them in small doses. No grapes though.”
“Right.” She took a few things from the fridge and began preparing dinner, but she hardly knew what she was doing: would she be cooking for a large man or a wolf? She felt him hovering near. She turned and found him looking at her as though waiting to be told what to do. She put everything down and sighed. “Forgive me, but are you really a werewolf?”
“Yes.” He canted his head. “You can’t tell?”
“I can tell that you’re different, but you just seem like a rather imposing man.”
Darren suddenly looked sad. “Are you disappointed?”
“No, but I thought you would be a wolf.”
“You mean—you want to see it?”
“Of course I do. I did put in for a werewolf. Did your other families tell you that they didn’t want to see your wolf form?”
Darren scratched the back of his neck and looked askance. “My wolf can be frightening for those who are not used to it. I terrified the children of the first family I went to. The second family’s dog ran away, and I had to be put outside.”
“Surely your wolf cannot be that bad. I know what wolves look like.”
She knew what wolves looked like—she did not, in fact, know what werewolves looked like. She had an idea of what they should look like, and her ideas were wrong. His wolf looked nothing like the photo on the paper she was sent: the wolf in front of her was a hulking monstrosity, a stalking terror on two legs, a wall of fur and muscle adorned with fangs and claws and glowing eyes. She tried not to be visibly frightened, but her knees made clacking sounds and she felt her heartbeat rush through her ears.
He changed back and made a wary smile. “You took it very well.”
“Did I?” Maddy asked, her voice warbling. “Do you change often?”
“I don’t have to. I spent most of my time in my human form. The moon just makes me itch.”
She exhaled. “Well, we will have to talk about rules—”
“Yes.” Darren perked up.
“And meal times and bathing—”
“I groomed before I came and I can feed myself.”
“What about toys?”
“I’m perfectly happy with anything. In my last home, I played with an old tree trunk.”
Maddy realized she had nothing large enough for him to play with. “Do many werewolves get returned to the agency?”
“Not that I know of. Most werewolves prefer to be wild, but I’m domesticated.”
“What other monsters usually come back to the agency?”
“There was a demon that kept making burn marks on floors, and there was a bigfoot with small feet.”
Maddy was wondering whether she should not return him and just get an old cat. She had applied to the agency, thinking how nice it would be to have a wolf companion to walk with and cuddle with at night, but a werewolf came with two sets of responsibilities: wolf responsibilities and man responsibilities, and she had not prepared for the latter.
Leave a Reply