Were-Cow Madness

[MalReynolds]

The moon crested the hill and the Were-Cow howled. The creature stood atop the magnificent breast of land on its hind legs, its lips contouring into a contorted “O� shape as the sound escape from its terrible orifice. As the howl died, crawling slowly out of its throat, it fell back to all fours, violently attacking the grass with its sharp teeth and hunger.

The creature was an abomination to God; its eyes burning bright red in the night, visible from afar. The all too common tell tale black spots of the moocow were gone; instead, a clear view into the inside and four stomachs of the animal as they churned grass and bone. From the hooves protruded small spikes, allowing the creature almost unlimited mobility, free range to climb up and down hills, over small walls and even maintain complete traction on ice.

And so it was, as the moon disappeared, the shape of the Were-Cow would change again, slowly, painfully, back into the figure of the poor human who had last been attacked by the vicious beast. The only way to rid yourself of the curse was to ingest pure silver, throw it up out of your first stomach, chew it around a bit, swallow it into your second stomach, throw it up again, chew it… Well, the point is gotten. After the silver cud is fully digested, the Were-Cow must be milked and the evil will dissipate out of the body of the creature and into the bucket.

The creature has mystified the world through the centuries, starting in Egypt. The original Were-Cow was Hamu-Teph, the Egyptian High Priest. He blasphemed against the hierarchy, claiming that the cow was the true ruler of the Earth and that people should just live to serve them. How he became High Priest prior to this point was anyone’s guess; but soon, his insane ramblings went too far. He killed the Pharaoh with a knife made out of a bull’s horn.

The brotherhood of Egyptian Priests, in an attempt to show no ill will towards common Egyptians, performed the sacred ritual of the Harug-Dah. What they did not know is that the eye of the beetle they were using as a powder to throw into Hamu’s wounds were not quite pure; they were, in fact, from Grasshoppers… And anyone who knows anything about the Harug-Dah knows that if you use Grasshopper eyes then you will turn into the animal that you most respect for a short time before dying, unless you perform the ultimate evil.

Hamu turned into a cow, completely killing the Brotherhood of Priests in the sacrificial chamber. He ran out into the countryside and performed the ultimate evil; letting a boy cow have his way with Hamu. There was no shame for him; he knew that it would come to a head and he would truly live forever.

Later that week, he was crushed by a falling rock. His spirit escaped out of his body and into the body of a cow, who immediately was driven insane. It rampaged around the countryside, eating other cows and stopping to nibble on the occasional daisy. The strange thing was, whatever the monster cow bit or chewed on, turned into something inhuman.

This is where Were-wolves come from; the wolf, in an attempt to eat, attacked the cow. It was promptly bitten and turned into a half human, half wolf combination. You shouldn’t question the logic behind this, simply because Egyptian Voodoo is quite scary and it will kill you in your sleep (if you break the chain).

Eventually, the farmers of Ireland grew weary of that strange Egyptian cow biting everything. They eviscerated the cow, ate it, and all turned into a group of drunkards. Those who did not partake in the sacrificial feast rode around the country, rounding up animals and killing them if they exhibited any strange behavior… The Were-Cow that had plagued the land had finally died, as had all of its bizarre love children of hate.

Or so they thought. One calf stowed away on a merchant ship to the America’s, where it roamed free, content with its life for several hundred years until it became fenced in by the boom in exploration.

It crossed the busy highway one night, stealing into a quaint neighborhood, through the back door of the house with a moo. It snuck into a bedroom, biting the sleeping person before disappearing. It was planned on continuing its rampage when it was crushed by a falling rock.

Mark Ericson awoke to find a strange bite mark on his leg, only to chalk it up to his crazy cat that kept getting into wacky adventures.

“That crazy cat,� he mumbled to himself as he crawled out of bed. He climbed into the bathroom, shutting the medicine cabinet. He looked up and saw horns protruding form his head.

“Oh, damn,� he said, reaching up and touching them. They were very pointy, sharp as a blade to the touch.

He decided to wear a hat to school that day.

Terry walked into class late, scanning the room for his friend Mark. Mark was seated in the back of the class, wearing a strange hat that looked like it had horns under it. Terry took his seat beside Mark and opened his book.

“What’s with the hat, Mark?�

“What? Oh, the hat? My head is cold.�

Terry nodded. The teacher began to drone, and students began to zone out. Terry came to when he heard the ripping of fabric, and he looked over at Mark, whose hat was ripping as horns protruded from the holes in the fabric.

“Uh, Mark, you have horns growing out of your head…�

Mark looked up and blushed.

“Oh, yeah, Terry… You don’t have your horns yet?�

Terry shook his head. “No, why?�

“You get em’ when you hit puberty.�

Terry clapped his hands. “Congrats, dude! I knew it would happen to one of us.�

Mark nodded. “Oh, hell yeah.�

Terry leaned back in his seat before becoming confused. “Mark, why don’t grown ups have horns?�

“Oh, you… They shave them off. That’s why grown ups shave.�

Satiated, Terry fell back asleep.

The phone rang in the Ericson household, and Mark answered.

“You’re a damned liar, Mark,� Terry’s voice rang shrilly over the communication tool.

“No, your parents are. They just don’t want to admit they’re horny.�

The line clicked, and Terry crawled into bed, once again satisfied with the answer.

Later that night, several cats were eaten whole. The only witness was a hobo, who was promptly eaten.

Mark shaved off his horns before he went to school again, happy with not having hat-hair or horns. He went home and shaved again, his five o’clock horns coming in.

The full moon disappeared for several months, and the animal population was safe once again. Mark continued to shave his horns while Terry began to massage his temple where the horns were supposed to come in. He wasn’t having any luck having the horns grow and was becoming discouraged.

Mark also got his first girlfriend that month, making out with her and bragging about it to his friends. They were impressed, save for Terry who was just straight up jealous.

Soon, the full moon came again, turning the young man into the cow-beast. He stalked through the night, eating young children and then pooping in their front yards, mooing to the moon maliciously before returning to its home and falling asleep, awaking the next day having no recollection of the nights previous events.

The sun began to hide behind the hill when Mark decided to take a walk into the city. The air was thick with mugginess as he walked through the city, watching carefully as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the moon came up.

His body was wracked with pain, and he collapsed to the ground, crying. On his knees, he held his fists up to the skies, crying. Ten minutes later, he stood up, looking at the moon and cursing God for letting Mark rack himself on the shopping cart. He walked down the street, watching his entirely human shadow being cast by the moon.

The Were-Cow came up behind him, but did not attack. Mark was standing over a grate on the ground, something that all cows genetically cannot stand on. He heard the cow lowing behind him and quickly turned.

It reared up, shooting milk out of its strange udders as it tried to get at him. Mark fell on his ass, startled at the sight of the beast. It looked him in the eye before it tore away, running around the corner into the alley. The moon soon became obscured by clouds as Mark sat and waited.

Terry rounded the corner, his clothes ripped.

“Oh, hey, Mark. Wassup?�

“Terry, are you a Were-Cow?�

“Mark, what are you talking about?�

“Step onto the grate.�

Terry wouldn’t; NAY! Terry couldn’t!

“You can’t, because you’re a were cow.�

“No I’m not,� Terry said, shooting milk out of his nipples.

“What is that, then?�

“Puberty?�

The clouds parted, and the moon bathed Terry, who quickly transformed into the cow, much like Optimus Prime. Again, it would not step onto the grate. The clouds obscured the moon and Terry changed again.

“Okay, okay, I’m a Were-Cow. So sue me.�

Mark removed the clipping from the library book from his pocket.

“Terry, we have to do this and then it’ll rid you from your horrible way.�

Terry nodded. “But how did you know it was me?�

Mark chuckled. “Silly Terry, you have to ask? Didn’t you pay attention in class when Mr. Thatcher was telling us about the horrible Were-Cow that was ravaging the country? After you ate my second cousin, I knew it was you because of something you said earlier… ‘If I were any kind of animal, I would eat your second cousin.’ Now, let’s do this right. First, chew on my silver cross.�

He did, then threw up, and then swallowed it, and then threw up, and then chewed it, and then swallowed it, again and again and again, until finally, he stopped vomiting into his mouth.

“Alright, Terry, now all I need to do is milk you.�

“Moo,� Terry said, turning back into a cow. Mark reached down and tugged fiercely on his friend’s udders, but the evil did not dispel.

Mark did not know much about Egyptian Voodoo, but if he did, he would know that if you feed a Were-Cow a silver cross then you’d just make it hungry for blood. Human blood.

Mark stepped off the grating and the cow charged. Mark was confused, thinking he had cured his friend, but realized that if he had in fact cured his friend, his friend would no longer be a cow. It chased him around the city, across the roads, over the streets and through the crossings. Mark finally grew weary, giving up and turning around to face the cow. It lunged at him when a large rock fell and crushed the Were-Cow to death.

“Well, it looks like this nightmare is over,� Mark said. A thin stream of milk shot from under the rock and into Mark’s mouth.

“Well, dammit.�

And it was so, that the Were-Cow curse lived on in the body of Mark, who was earlier only growing horns because of puberty. Really.

Mal

[Tokzic]

That read was entertaining, Mal. My favourite parts must be the falling rocks, the puberty-horns, and the comparison to Optimus Prime. Keep good stuff like this coming.

(To whichever mod keeps editing it: IT'S A CAPITAL T, DAMMIT.)

[psychic25]

Haha, pretty good.

Although I think you got their names mixed up in the last half of the story?

[MalReynolds]

Haha, naw, Terry was the were cow the entire time. The horns were just a red herring that didn't make any sense so I chalked it up to puberty.

Mal

[MonkeyFoo]

I absolutely have an illustration of a howling cow on a hilltop from fifth grade. It's got nasty, big, pointy teeth too. However, it's traveling with a pack of other wild wolf-cows.

[Tps222]

That was a weird story as well, getting a little bored at times Mal? It was pretty creative, it was funny how you just made up rules for everything.

[Tasuke]

I like how the horns were just chalked up to pueberty.

[MalReynolds]

I didn't make the rules up for this.

Honest...

Mal

[psychic25]

Oh, haha.

-1 story interpretation skills :P.