The Castleton Werewolf

Reads: 49  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

One of my first stories for my new book about the folklore of the North York Moors, please leave feedback!

Submitted: August 16, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 16, 2018



The Castleton Werewolf There was a boom of interest in the fascination of Werewolves during the 16th and 17th century, stories cropping up all over Europe and beyond, men and woman being burned at the stake due to rumours of their ‘abilities’ to become half man half wolf. Many of these stories died out with the evolution of science and people became more akin to realism and probable stories. But this didn’t stop some tales and legends to live on, and this is where our story begins.

In the middle 16th century, in the heartland of the North Yorkshire moors, which is now surrounded by local villages such as Castleton and Danny etc. A man of unknown origin was wandering the country side in the thick of Autumn, it was said he loved his travels, and feared no weather, and no climb was too steep. This particular evening was dark, dreary and soaked in thick rain water, the fog clogged the sky so close to his face that he could barley see his own feet, the man was not concerned, he had battled worse weather than this and carried on as usual. His destination was also unknown, but most people believe he was in search of a country inn, or at least suitable camping grounds. As he wandered deeper into the rolling moorlands, the night became quieter, not even the birds sang their songs anymore, only the rain made it's sad yet peaceful tune. That was until the deathly sound of a wolf's howl echoed across the sprawling hills, the man was taken off guard, he had not heard of wolves been local to the area, but he was confident in his abilities and pressed on. After walking a hefty distance he eventually came to what looked like an old stone quarry, abandoned for some time it seemed, he decided to have a look around and perhaps set up camp.

Time went by and he had found a perfect bit of shelter for a fire, drying his wet, soggy clothes sitting in his warm furs he had bought prior to this expedition, new and fresh, perfect to keep him warm for the night. He tucked into his dinner, and again, the wolf's howl echoed down the valleys, his nerves started to rattle, and he kept his walking stick close. That's when he saw it, walking in the thick fog, a woman, completely nude with beautiful ashen hair that shines as bright as the moon, wandering in the thick wet heather. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, baffled at what he was seeing, yet strangely enchanted by this woman. The man stares at her while she walks, astounded and confused, as she gets further from view he decides to follow, leaving everything behind, even his trusty walking stick. He follows her steps, keeping her in view, as much as he can with the fog, and as he follows she continues to turn her head to look at him, he believes she is leading him somewhere, but the man can’t help but follow. After a while of following her trail, she slips into a hole in the side of some rock formations, he is compelled to follow, as if he has no choice. The man pursues her into the cave without any care, and as his eyes adjust to the dark, all that fills the cave is a single slab of pelt, clearly meant for a make shift bed, and holes that spill in fog and moonlight. Then he sees her, staring right at him, she walks towards him, and before he can react, she kisses him on the lips, passionate and heavy. They spend the night in the cave, making love on that single piece of pelt, accompanied by the howl of the wolves and the blowing of the wind.

The next morning the man awakens, excited to see the new beautiful enchantress that he is now madly in love with, but even with the blaring Autumn sunlight, he cannot see her anywhere, he looks all over the cave, with no sign of the wild woman, so the man steps out of the cave, but still no sign of his new found lover. All he saw, stood on the top of the rocks, was a large, but beautiful wolf, with thick white fur that flowed in the wind, the wolf looks at the man, and darts off out of sight. The man decides it is time to get out of this place, find his camp and proceed to any hint of civilisation, perhaps the isolation has driven him mad, or so he thought. So he gets on his way to find his camp, but with no luck, he has no memory of how he got here, so he carries on with only his pelt on his back, he walks all day, and eventually and miraculously comes across a small village, by this time it is dusk, he is ready for a warm feather bed and some warm food, he eventually finds the local inn and uses the only money he has hidden in a pouch tied around his waist to pay for some food and single room for the night. The man then prepares for bed, stepping outside for some fresh air before bed. The moonlight reflects off the wet, thick grass, the man begins to feel unwell, sick and faint, so he decides to go get some well deserved rest. All that remained the next morning were the abolished corpses of the local villagers, and the stench of bodily remains, with no sign of the wandering man among the dead, just the howl of the wolf echoing across the moorlands.

The village then faded with the passage of time, apart from the howling of the wolf, which is said can still be heard on the nights with the moon bright in the night sky. Sightings of a half wolf half man, have been shared across locals and passers by to this very day, often described as a tall wolf like creature, with dark black fur and bright red eyes, often seen darting away into the cover of the hills on all fours. Many believe that many of missing persons that have cropped up over the years, relate to the werewolf, which has now been dubbed the Castleton Werewolf, due to most sightings accruing around the Castleton area. So keep your headlights bright and if traveling by foot at night, keep an ear out for the howling of wolves, because maybe you could fall victim to the Werewolf of Castleton Moor

© Copyright 2019 mikeyovertrees. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: