You better beware of a raccoon's bite, cause they can cause more harm than you think...

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. : (-*) Claus’ Investigations: Chronicles (Episode 1) (*-) : .

The Coon
The world doesn’t stop to amaze me. Ever since people evolved and gained the gift (or curse) of reasoning, they tried to understand the things that happen around them. Millenniums ago they used to think deities caused things like the rain, the wind, the fire, or… created our world. The correct definition for this behavior is the creation of what people call “Myths”, which isn’t crazy at all, if you ask me. Philosophically speaking, a myth is an attempt to explain something that actually happened.
I myself can wonder why I should do this correlation to the “Werewolf” phenomena, which is a popular urban legend that has been told for centuries, more specifically, in the “middle ages”. I might be wrong, though, as I never thought a werewolf could exist. Guess I was wrong, after all.
Some weeks ago I was browsing around the interwebs, mostly YouTube. I love watching those vlog like videos where people tell stories, myths and divulge information about stuff happening in our planet. One of them was about horror stories, usually ones that have been told from person to person through the decades. It was about the werewolf, that urban legend I was talking about earlier. But something was odd, this time, it wasn’t the typical werewolf going rampage and slaughtering humans, instead, it was about a victim that suffered this curse, making him transform into a beast every full moon. There was something funky about it, he still regained his sanity and will, instead of just becoming an animal that relied on it’s instincts. Could this make sense? Could someone that suffered this actually still remain conscious?
I tried to shake this off my mind, because it was just crazy and stupid to think about it. “Werewolves don’t exist”, I said to myself. After a while I got bored of this, walking around my house, since I was home alone, only with my little dog for company. I remembered I had an appointment in the INN, known in Spanish as the “Instituto Nacional de Neurología”. In Spanish it means “National Institute of Neurology”.
I prepared my stuff and went off to the institute, picking a taxi to get there easily. I called my mom, telling her I was about to leave home, getting in almost an argument because she said she was going to take me there. I managed to calm her down, telling her I could do it. I sighed in annoyance as I hung up; a bit annoyed at her over-protective behavior towards me. She did let me go there by myself, but at the same time, she wasn’t happy.
15 minutes later I stepped down of the cab, now walking towards the entrance to external appointments in the INN. I walked through the parking lot, and then started to walk up the ramp that was often used for disabled people. I got inside, passing through many people that were in a line to get a turn, in order to get the doctors sign their papers to get a date for their coming appointments.
After giving the receptionists my papers, which had the appointment code, date and hour, I sat down. Many minutes passed, which were slow as heck for me, and nothing happened. I started to wonder what the doctor was doing, to the point I asked the receptionists if he was in the building. One of them told me he was busy, and that he already was told I was here. I rolled my eyes, sitting down in frustration.
I checked my phone, noticing 30 minutes had passed away already, making me feel impatient. I knew how bureaucracy worked in this building, and there was a chance he still didn’t knew I had arrived. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think he should be taking too long on checking the patients. I may be wrong, since I don’t know what these other people suffer.
With the rear of my eyes I saw a receptionist opening the door of the next office cabinet, which had the number 9 on it. I remember had checked there earlier, there wasn’t anyone there. I thought on doing a escapade to check on the doctor’s cabinet and tell him I had arrived.
I sneaked inside the office, noticing how tidy it was. I walked through the back door, getting into this corridor that connected the rest of the offices. I walked to the right, leaning in to see the doctor, for my relief. I tried to get his attention, and for my success, he saw me, telling me he already knew I was here. I rolled my eyes, going back to where I came from.
Odd enough, something caught my eye as I was passing through. It was on the white desk, a paper. It seemed to be blank, but suspiciously put in the middle. I decided to pick it up, seeing it wasn’t really blank, only flipped to the other side. Looking into it, I knew why it seemed to be a blank paper; because there was only an internet link on the top of the page, not a normal one though. It was an onion link, the ones used for the Deep Web.
I arouse an eyebrow, a bit startled of why someone would take note of a deep web link in an institute like this. My curiosity controlled me, deciding to take a photo of the link with my cellphone. I quickly left the paper where it was before, walking out of the room until I heard a voice. “You shouldn’t be here”, a female voice said. I turned around, only to see the receptionist that walked through this room before. I shrugged at her, smiling nervously. “You can’t just enter their offices like this” she said. I left without saying a word, acting as if I didn’t do anything.
After this, I will skip to the moment I was at home, a few days later. I was browsing around the internet, until I remembered the paper I saw in the INN. I checked the picture, it had enough quality for me to zoom to the link and just copy it on the browser. But first, I had to think about the implications of doing this. “It’s now or never…” I said to myself, now looking on Google to download both Tor and another programs so I didn’t get in trouble. I felt my sins crawling up my back, trying to scare me and my now increasing curiosity.
I opened Tor, and copied the link, letter by letter, and number by number. I swallowed my saliva as I pressed Enter on my keyboard. It got me to what seemed to be a blog. The blog looked… kind of very simple, but what troubled me was it’s content. The creator of the blog was someone from Mexico, explaining that he discovered the truth about the werewolf myth, saying it wasn’t something made up. He stated he had proof about it, and that he was writing this here because the government didn’t want anyone to know.
I thought this was just a bad joke, that all of this was made up. But it wasn’t until I saw that the blog had 2 years of existence; with many blog posts. The comments made it worse, everything seemed legit, even the people commenting were confessing their secrets.
Every comment had a video attached to it, one that caught my attention was of someone stating that their friend was bit by a raccoon, and instead of having rabies, he would suffer a painful transformation every full moon. This dude stated that he wasn’t sure of what to do with him, since it wasn’t going to take a while until the government found out about his status, taking him captive in the process for scientific studies.
I clicked onto the attachment file, seeing that it lasted 4 minutes. The video started with a guy, apparently the poster’s friend, tied to his bed with good looking ropes and knots. He had both his wrists and feet tied onto the mattress. It took 30 seconds, which for me lasted forever, until he started groaning. He groaned slightly, feeling his back ache, making him wiggle around. It seemed that the aching worsened; now making him complain about it, screaming for his friend that was on the other room.
It cut off for a bit, and then returned to the tied guy now screaming in pain, begging for more painkillers. The other replying “I-I can’t give you more, you will o-overdose!!”. At this point everything started to gross me out, seeing his rather lean muscles start to bulge around, making him cry a bit in pain. I could hear bones cracking all over the place, making him beg for mercy. The anatomy of both his legs and arms started to change, along his head. He kept crying, wanting it to stop. “P-Please!” he screamed.
It seemed that the cameraman was scared, making him step back as he saw his friend arching his back, his body growing in size in a painful matter. His cries started to turn into howls of pain as the now growing body ripped most of his underwear. Fur that had a dark gray color appeared all over his body, his head turned into something similar of a raccoon’s head, with black stripes below his eyes. His teeth popped out of his jaw like marshmallows, being replaced with sharp fangs. His muscles growing, at least, triple in size. And just like that, it stopped.
The now animal was lying still on the bed apparently unconscious. His friend mumbling at him, trying to get his attention, I think with the hopes of the other still having his mind intact. But, as I guessed it, the monster woke up. Growling loudly, trying to get free. The video might have been dark, but I swear I saw a red hue shine in the dark, right where the werecoon’s eyes should be. The guy holding the camera shook in fear. He turned around and immediately ran, slamming the door along with him. That’s where it ended, along with my curiousity.
I sat there, dumbfounded, not sure of what to think about this. I thought that werewolves didn’t exist, that it was just a legend, something made up. Guess I was wrong. I hope… I hope that guy is alright and alive.
. . .
--Claus out