“I was a doctor before Grace,” he says.
Grace, who is real. An elderly woman who came to his office one day with a dire problem.
“I thought it was an advanced form of dementia. Then she invited me down here—” We stand in front of the obscure door at the back of the basement, where he finally acknowledges the knocking that has haunted me since I was last here.
“I watched her transform.”
“They’re like werewolves,” he says, “except instead of a full moon, it’s every night. And they’re still—”
He nods. “At least, a version…”
OK, so I fell behind, but I won’t leave you hanging! Thursday’s tag was “werewolf.”
Stay tuned for the conclusion, “X,” “Y, and “Z” tomorrow!