I found myself from the dock of our Summer cottage, feeling sick and exhausted. I was alone with almost no food or any gear for this, but it did not bother me. For some reason I was determined to get to the island as quickly as possible.
I started walking on the weak Spring ice. It was cold night with a clear sky. I had only walked for about 100meters, when I knew the ice was not gonna carry me the whole way... Yet still I was pushing forward. For some reason the only thing on my mind at that moment was to get to this island. Nothing was gonna stop me.
When the ice finally broke under my feet, I just simply smashed through the ice, turned my back towards the island, and carried along smashing the ice with my bare hands, while swimming on my back. At this point I felt some kind of supernatural power being with me, perhaps it was just pure adrenaline boost from this moment and that freezing water, perhaps something else. I still had long ways to go, so it was not on my mind that much... Need to push forward...
After what may have been sometime between 30minutes to 1hour of slow but determined push through freezing water and ice I was on land, exhausted and freezing, with only one thing in mind; need to get warm and fast. I quickly found some wood to warm up the Sauna. After getting myself warm and my clothes dry, what then felt like one night of sleep, had been from three weeks to month or two of total blackout. No memory what so ever.
There was clear marks of someone (that someone being me) living there on the island for a longer while. Some marks of hunting and fishing, but I could not find any hunting or fishing gear anywhere. Had I been with someone else here? All my clothes were broken and dirty, there was huge scars on my body, from what seemed like some kind of battle, but I could not remember anything. I was mentally lost.
Meanwhile the rest of the ice and snow had melted. It was Spring.
Since I still had little to no gear with me, and so many questions on my mind, from not having absolutely no memory of my time on the island, I was baffled... I wanted to go back.
There was an old raft I had made when I was a kid. I quicky got that on the water to get back at the dock, from where started a long hiking journey back to home. It was that long walk, at night, in the moonlight, when I suddenly had the flashback. I remembered.
I had been secluding oneself on the island, just to keep safe during the worst season of fullmoon. I suddenly saw it all. The nightly struggle agains my will.. Agains the need for flesh... Human flesh.
That was the daydream of a solitaire Werewolf that is I.
Flauros "The myth of Werewolf"(1997)