~*~

Malibu Beach- A week before Halloween, 1967
"MICKY!" Mike called from the living room of their pad. "It's rehearsal time! Get down here!"

Micky appeared at the top of the stairs, covered in cotton spiderwebs and orange and black crepe paper. He threw down the plastic bats he was trying to hang and slid down the banister. "Whee!" he exclaimed as he landed at Peter's feet. He straightened up, flashing his usual big grin at the blond, expecting the dimpled smile in return. Peter just looked up at Micky with sad eyes and limped over next to Mike.

"Hey Peter," he called after him. "Anything wrong? You look like someone ran over your teddy bear." Peter's face scrunched up and tears started to fill his eyes at the thought. "Okay," Micky sighed. "Wrong choice of words..."

"Nothing's wrong, Micky," Peter finally said. "I'm just a little... depressed." He picked up his bass and waited for the others to get ready.

"That leg still bothering you?" Mike asked, concerned. Peter nodded and picked up his bass. Quietly, he started to tune. Micky patted him on the back as he made his way behind the drum set.

"Don't worry, Pete," Micky assured. "I'm sure it'll pass. You told us the doctor said it was just a pulled tendon." He dived behind his drums, looking for those ever-elusive drumsticks. He bumped heads with Davy, whose maracas had rolled under the bass drum, and they both sat back and started laughing and giggling. Mike rolled his eyes skyward, but cracked a tiny smile when his back was turned to the two goofballs. But they needed to rehearse; they're playing at the newest club in town, the Seagate, tomorrow night. The owner had liked their sound and arranged them a gig the next night, and if they were as good as they sounded at the audition, they'll be playing at the big Halloween party that Saturday.

"Everybody ready?" Mike asked, giving a sharp look at Micky, who was playfully aiming one of his drumsticks at Davy's butt. Davy saw Mike's look and turned around, and Micky immediately put on his most innocent expression. Mike sighed and counted them off, and they spent the Sunday evening fine-tuning songs for their performance.

A couple of hours later, the four had to call it quits when Mike and Davy's dates for the evening arrived. Micky opened the door and invited in a tall, curvy girl with bright green eyes and long, flowing ivory hair and a solemn- faced, black-haired beauty, whose ice-colored eyes flashed in the dim light of the pad. The latter stayed back, leaning against the doorframe and eyeing Mike's lean form while the blond thanked Micky and walked in right up to Davy and gave him a big hug. She was at least half a head taller than he was.

" 'Ello luv," Davy responded with his biggest grin. " 'Ow ah you tonight?"

"Just fine," she replied with the hint of a German accent. "Are you ready to go?"

"In a minute. I'll be right out."

"And I'll be waiting outside with Megan." She gave him a quick kiss and walked out the door, with Megan, Mike, and Micky right behind her. As soon as they were out of sight, Davy walked over to Peter and looked him in the eye.

"Petah, ah you sure you don't mind me dating Gabrielle?" He gave Peter a worried look. They had met Gabrielle a few days earlier when Davy had picked Peter up from the hospital. He had a pain in his leg for a while, but had informed the others that the doctors said it was only a pulled tendon. Gabrielle was a nurse at the hospital and Peter had immediately fallen for the beautiful girl. She had gone for Davy instead. The shorter boy shared her affection, but he was also worried about his friend. The blond boy had been depressed ever since he came back from the hospital. And it seemed to Davy that he Peter had actually gotten thinner than he was already.

"Go ahead, Davy," Peter whispered quietly, shattering through Davy's thoughts.

Reluctantly, Davy started out the door, casting an anxious look back at Peter.

"Okay, Petah, but you ge' some rest. You don' look too 'ot."

Peter gave Davy a wavering smile and watched as the Manchester boy went out to meet his date. As soon as the door was closed, Peter lowered his head and a single tear slid down his cheek.

~*~

Mike slowed the car in front of Gray's Toy Town. Micky hopped out without opening the door and waved to the four as the car sped off.

_Lucky them,_ Micky thought. _They get to go out and have fun while I work._

He strolled into the large toy store and straight into the office. He put on the ugly bright-yellow vest that implied that he was an employee and marked down what time he had come in. It didn't have the best hours in the world, only four hours a day, but he liked it. He couldn't think of a better place to work than a toy store. It was pretty easy too. His job was just to assist the customers. Putting on his usual big grin, he sauntered out of the office and started walking down the isles, saying hello to the stockers laboring away at stacking, straightening, and cleaning.

"Excuse me, young man." Micky turned around to face a short, gray-haired old woman whose eyes reminded him of a hawk's, sharp and penetrating. She looked him over and her cracked, dry lips curved in an open smile, revealing yellow, crooked teeth.

"Um, may I help you?" Micky asked nervously. He didn't like the way the woman was looking at him.

"Yes you can," the woman cackled, sending a wave of foul breath at Micky. He involuntarily took a step backwards, but the lady grabbed his arm and pulled him close to her face. "You and your friends are in grave danger. Six are involved. One in your group is pure evil, and one will destroy that evil. The evil has to be eliminated if the other five are to survive. I have tracked this evil for many years. I cannot continue. The pure one in your group of six will take my place." With that, she let go of Micky and walked away, leaving him to mull over what she had said.

Slowly, Micky straightened up and scratched his fuzzy head. _She must be some kind of a nut,_ he thought. _One of my friends is evil? Impossible._ But he couldn't shake her words from his mind. _She said six. Me, Peter, Mike, Davy… Megan and Gabrielle?_ He shuddered as he remembered Megan's cold ice- eyes. _Nah, she's a weird one, but she's not evil. Then again, we haven't known her long._

For the next four hours, Micky tried to concentrate on his job, but try as he might he couldn't forget the hawk eyes, the cracked lips, and the foul breath, the warning....

~*~

Micky stumbled into the pad at eleven and headed straight for the couch. In addition to the strange woman, the customers had been extra rude. That night, all he heard was "I want to speak to the manager, young man" and "no, no, no, that's not right. That's not the one I want." And in the background, he could hear customers whispering about "that dreadful long-haired weirdo. What could the manager be thinking, hiring someone like that?"

"Must be Pick-On-Micky Day," he groaned as he flopped down on the couch. As soon as his head hit the soft cushions, his conscious mind shut off, sending him into a deep sleep and a disturbing dream.

Micky looked around and shuddered. There was no visible floor or walls, yet he knew they were there. The air had red streaks and it swirled around him, like some sort of giant lava lamp. Red clouds, perhaps? He reached out to touch one of the red streaks, and yelped as it shifted and took form. It turned into the old woman he had seen at work.

"Evil...." she whispered, and dispersed. He touched another, and his eyes widened as it swirled faster and faster, creating a vortex that pulled him into inky darkness.

_Where am I?_ He looked around and realized that he was sitting in the Monkee Mobile. Mike, Davy, Gabrielle, and Megan were there too, obviously coming back from their double date. _How in the world did I get here?_

"Hey guys!" Micky called. No one responded. "Guys?" He reached out to touch Davy, but his hand just passed right through. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. _I must still be dreaming...._

"Mike?" Gabrielle called from the backseat. "Do you mind if we stop at the park? It's such a beautiful night out and I think it would be nice for us to take a stroll in the moon light."

"Ooh, how romantic," Davy grinned, giving Gabrielle a light kiss.

"Well, Megan, how 'bout you?" Mike looked at the girl sitting in the passenger seat. "Up to a hike through the jungle gym?"

Megan slowly smiled and nodded. "Yes," she muttered. "That sounds.... nice...."

Mike parked the car by the park and the four got out. Micky hopped out too. If he was invisible, he might as well take advantage of that. He always wondered how far Davy goes on a first date.

The two couples split up, and Micky followed Davy and Gabrielle. Nothing too interesting happened for a couple of minutes. Gabrielle seemed content to stroll hand in hand with Davy, gazing up at the waxing moon. Micky watched as Davy leaned towards the taller girl. But he never reached her. Before he could kiss Gabrielle, she grabbed his arm and started screaming. Micky looked confused, and Davy matched his expression. Until he saw what Gabrielle was screaming at. On the cold cement path in front of them lay what remained of a young man, torn limb from limb and soaked in blood. And leaning over him, also drenched in gore, stood Megan.

"M-m-mike?" Micky squeaked in horror as he eyed the lump of blood and bones of what used to be a human being. He stared at Megan, who seemed as shocked as he was.

In a shimmer of deep purple light, the mysterious old woman appeared squatting next to the biggest pile of flesh. "The work of the werewolf," she croaked, her eyes burning into Micky's. "Stop the evil before it's too late."

Then the whole scene began to fade away. He was being pulled back through the vortex, back into the astral plane. "No!" he cried. "Mike!"

"Have to help Mike!" Micky shrieked as he sat up. He was back at the pad, on the couch. Immediately, he jumped up and ran out the front door. Remembering that the others had taken the Monkee Mobile, he grabbed a motorbike he had been fixing up, started the engine and made his way to the park as fast as the rickety bike would allow.

_It was only a dream,_ his mind kept telling him, but his heart didn't agree. It had seemed too real, so horrible. He was sure that it was vision of what was to happen, an evil omen. The old woman's throaty voice still rang in his ears. _Stop the evil before it's too late._ As the park came into view, Micky felt his throat tighten in fear. Parked on the curb was the Monkee Mobile, its cherry red paint seemed to glisten in the moonlight like the blood seeping out of Mike's torn limbs. Shaking the thought, he parked the bike and ran down one of the paths, the path that Mike and Megan had taken.

"Mike?!" Micky called, his voice cracking. He hoped he wasn't too late. "Mike! Are you here?" No answer. The park seemed deadly still, scattered trees around him cast shadows of reaching fingers in the cold moonlight. The playground off to his right was devoid of the cheerfulness that had surrounded it hours earlier. Now the empty swings creaked steadily as the wind pushed it like an invisible ghost at play. He ran further, and suddenly saw Mike standing alone. "Mike!" he shouted, waving his arms to get the tall Texan's attention. Mike looked at Micky in surprise and started to walk over to him.

"Micky, what are you doing h...." he started, but got cut off as an enormous wolf with rough gray fur jumped out at him from the cover of some trees. Before he could even scream, the wolf was upon him, pinning him to the ground and about to deliver the killing bite.

Without even thinking, Micky grabbed a thick fallen branch and swung it like a baseball bat at the creature, and smiled as he heard the distinct "crack" of the wood as it connected with the wolf's skull. The beast leapt back with a yelp, more from surprise than pain. It turned to Micky and emitted a low growl, as if to say "you're next." Micky swung the branch again and again the rotting wood made contact. Seeing that it could not win the fight, the wolf ran back into the cover of the shrubs. Micky smiled in satisfaction as he noticed the weird way the thing was running. _Maybe that'll teach it to bother a Monkee,_ he thought and grinned. Mike got up and hesitantly laid a hand on Micky's shoulder.

"Thanks buddy," he said with the utmost sincerity. "You saved my life." But before Micky could answer, he saw Megan running towards them from the direction the wolf had fled. On the left side of her face was a big, red welt. The same side that Micky had struck the wolf upon. 'The work of the werewolf....'

"Megan, your face!" Mike gasped as he noticed the welt. Megan stopped and gingerly fingered the wound.

"I, uh, had an accident. Didn't see where I was going and ran into a tree," she admitted, chuckling nervously. "Clumsy me."

At that moment Davy and Gabrielle appeared. They came up to the trio and also asked about Megan's bruise. They seemed satisfied with the answer. But Micky wasn't. It was too much of a coincidence. But that means....

~*~

Micky was silent until the girls had been dropped off at their homes. Now on the way back to the pad, he filled the guys in on everything that had happened starting from the old woman that had appeared to him at the toy store. Mike refused to believe the story and they argued back and forth through the whole ride home.

"Micky, you know what you say is impossible!"

"I know what I saw! And I got here just in time to save you, didn't I?"

"There is no such thing as a werewolf!"

"Then what do you call that thing at the park? An overgrown terrier?"

"It was probably a wolf that escaped from the zoo and got hungry."

"But...."

"Now I don't want to hear any more."

"But...."

"The whole thing was your imagination."

"Then 'e must 'ave a pretty strong imagination."

"Shut up, Davy," they both chorused. Davy sat back and grumbled. When they finally got back to the pad, he couldn't wait to get into bed. The whole night had been some experience. Saying good night to Micky and Mike, he headed for the bedroom that he and Peter shared. Opening the door quietly so he wouldn't wake Peter, Davy crept in silently.

"Where was everyone?" Peter's soft voice came slicing through the silence. Davy turned and saw Peter sitting up in his bed, clutching his teddy bear tightly. "Something's wrong," he continued in a worried tone. "What happened?"

Davy knew that Peter wouldn't let him sleep until he was updated on what was going on, so hesitantly, he started to tell Peter what Micky told them and ended with the incident at the park. Peter listened with horror growing steadily in his eyes.

"Don' worry abou' i', Petah," Davy assured. "Mike thinks i' was jus' an escaped wolf from the zoo. They'll ca'ch 'im and take 'im back."

Peter didn't answer. He just slipped deeper into his blanket silently and was still.

_Poor Peter must be in shock or something,_ Davy thought. _Maybe I shouldn't have told him...._ But it was too late to worry about it now. He snuggled down into his own blanket and started to drift off.

Then he heard quiet whimpering.

"Petah?" he asked silently, peering over at the other bed. But the blond wasn't there. Listening carefully, he traced the muffled noise to the adjoining bathroom. He peeked inside and gasped. Peter was on his knees, leaning over the toilet and sobbing. Every few seconds he would vomit into the porcelain bowl.

"Petah, ah you alright?" Davy asked, concerned. He stood behind the other boy and started patting and stroking his back comfortingly.

"It's just that....the thought of Mike almost being...." Peter sniffed, trying to stop the tears. "I'll be fine. I just...." His back heaved as he hurled another load into the toilet. And that just started him crying again. Davy didn't know what to do. He finally decided it was best to get Peter cleaned up and into bed.

Later, Davy finally managed to fall into bed and wrap the warm comforter around him. _This probably wins the award for the worst night of my life,_ he thought sleepily. _Well, maybe second worst. There was that one time I almost became a vampire...._ And with that, he drifted off to peaceful slumber just as the sun began to peek over the land.

Two days later....
"Man, I can' believe we actually go' tha' gig!" Davy exclaimed as he sat down at the kitchen table. He was talking about the night before when they performed at The Seagate. The partying teenagers were there until the guys had left in the wee hours of the morning. Brian Pederson, the owner of The Seagate, was so impressed that he immediately agreed to let the Monkees play at his Halloween bash.

"Man, keep it down, Davy," Mike complained. "It's too early in the morning to celebrate."

"Early?" Davy laughed. "It's almos' noon."

"Well, I didn't get any sleep last night." Mike yawned and stretched. "Micky kept me up with his bouncing all over the place."

"I was too keyed up to sleep!" Micky defended himself. "This could be our big break! Today the Seagate, tomorrow the world!"

"Mornin' guys," Peter mumbled as he limped over to the kitchen table. The other three stopped their conversation and looked sympathetically at Peter. Micky realized how Peter had been limping worse than before. Mike noticed the pain in his eyes with every step he took. Davy grew worried as he saw Peter's usually filled clothes sway loosely on him. He shook his head slowly.

He must still be upset about that wolf incident, Davy thought. It's not healthy for him to worry so much. _And that busted leg isn't helping matters any._ Peter slowly sat down at the fourth chair without getting any breakfast. It was odd for him to be the last one of them to wake up, for he was probably the only morning person out of the group.

"How are you feeling, big Pete?" Micky asked quietly.

"Leg still hurts a bit," Peter answered, a weak smile edging onto his ghost- white face. "Other than that, I'm just dandy."

"You don't look too dandy," prodded Mike. He had a feeling that leg of Peter's had been giving the poor boy more trouble than he's letting on. Davy kept silent. He was worried about Peter too, but there was nothing he could do.

Before Peter could respond to Mike, there came a knock on the door. Davy shot out of his chair, eager for the distraction. Opening the door, he grinned as he saw Megan and Gabrielle standing outside. Mike got out of his chair too, and ambled over to Megan.

"Well, hello there," Mike drawled, putting an arm around Megan. She smiled back at him, but shuffled out of his embrace. Mike only shrugged and followed as she walked over to Micky and Peter. Gabrielle and Davy also joined the group.

"How are you today, Peter?" Gabrielle asked, putting a hand on top of Peter's once golden hair, which now looked more like dried straw. He looked up at her hopefully, with loving eyes, but lowered them when he saw she only had concern in hers. She then felt his forehead and cheeks. "You feel a little warm."

"I'm fine," he whispered quietly, holding back tears as he noticed Davy slip an arm around Gabrielle's waist out of the corner of his eyes. Gabrielle, oblivious to Peter's emotional pain, grinned down at Davy and kissed him on top of his head. "I-I-I'm gonna take a walk," Peter stuttered as he struggled to get up. He headed out the back door before anyone could object. Anything to get Gabrielle out of his sight.

A few feet from the pad, he sat down in the sand and burst into tears. _What's wrong with me?!_ He scolded himself. _I can't even go a day now without crying. Pitiful...._He sobbed harder as he felt the salty tears roll down his cheeks and drip off his chin. As they flowed into his mouth and he could taste the bitter defeat of losing another girl.

~*~

Micky looked after Peter worryingly. He knew that the wolf wasn't done with them. And he knows if it ever comes after Peter, he probably won't be able to fight back. He looked at the remaining four around him. Which one was the werewolf? He knew his roommates, but he didn't know Gabrielle or Megan.

Megan looked over and saw Micky staring at her. She smirked at him as she slipped her arm around Mike and nuzzled into his warm chest and felt his lanky arms embrace her.

~*~

That night, Micky couldn't get to sleep. He tossed and turned, tried every sleeping position known to mankind, but he was wide-awake. And he knew why. Mike and Davy were outside taking a moonlight walk with Megan and Gabrielle. There was a chance the werewolf would strike.

Micky finally threw his covers off. There was no way he could sleep, knowing there was the slight chance his friends were in danger. He raced downstairs and out onto the beach. The first person he saw was Davy, playing near the water. His shirt was removed and his wet chest and back glistened in the light of the circle moon. He was building a sandcastle while Gabrielle was walking back and forth from him to the cold ocean water to bring him nice, wet sand. She padded over to Davy with a handful of sand and smeared it across his bare back and started massaging his shoulders down to his sides. Micky smirked a bit. Those two were such flirts.

Looking farther up the beach, he saw Mike, also shirtless, peeking behind some large rocks as if searching for something… or someone. Megan was nowhere in sight. _Uh-oh...._ Micky panicked. _If Megan disappeared again...._ Mike ran behind a boulder and started laughing. When he came back out, he had Megan slung over his shoulder. Micky breathed a sigh of relief. He sat down on the stairs to watch the two couples and after a few minutes, dozed off.

~*~

"No... not again!" Micky cried. He was back in the astral plane, back in the midst of the swirling clouds that reveal the future. Should he see what the wolf had in store for its next victim? He was scared, but he had to. If he didn't and one of them got hurt or killed, he would never forgive himself. Reaching out, he touched the crimson cotton curls and once more a vortex opened up to swallow him in.

Micky was still sitting on the stairs going down to the beach. He knew someone was approaching, but he couldn't see anyone. He could feel the soft vibrations of someone walking heavily up the stairs towards him, feel the invasion of his personal space. And he could feel the stinky hot breath of the creature as it opened its mouth to swallow him whole. Looking in the distance, he could see Mike and Davy staring at him in horror. He tried to call out to them, but his voice wouldn't work, couldn't work. He could now feel the sharp teeth piercing his delicate skin, severing his blood vessels and sinking into his bone....

~*~

Micky woke up with a start. _Only a dream… but I'm next...._ He opened his eyes and realized he was face to face with the werewolf. The beast opened its jaws and prepared for the kill.

Micky opened and closed his mouth in an effort to get sound out. But nothing came out except a small squeak. _So this is how it ends...._ He peered deeply into the blood-red eyes of the werewolf, and saw nothing but madness. Accepting his fate, he closed his eyes and waited for the slow and painful death. But it never came. He heard a sharp yelp, and looked up just in time to see Mike and Davy wrestling with the beast.

Mike was holding a large stick he had wedged between the wolf's jaws and was riding the creature like a bucking bronco. Davy had the thing by it's tail, trying to wrestle it to the ground.

Micky stared in awe as the wolf writhed in a desperate attempt to throw his unwelcome rider.

"YEE-HAW!!!" Mike crowed as his raven hair tossed in the crisp night air and his bare back glistened with sweat.

_I don't believe this!_ Micky gawked. _He's messing with a killer animal and actually having fun! He has definitely lost it._

"Mike!" Davy cried, almost losing his grip on the bristle brush of the wolf's tail. "Wha' ah we gonna do abou' this thing?!"

"We hold on and pray!" Mike shouted in response, trying to keep hold of the stick as the wolf shook its head hard. Mike kept hold, but scratched his hand against its razor sharp canine tooth. "Yeow!" he cried. "This thing's got teeth like knives!"

Micky got up, ready to help his comrades, but jumped back in fright as the mysterious old woman from the toy store appeared right in front of him. She seemed older and more atrocious, if it were possible. Her thin, white, straw hair reached for him from under the black hood of her robe and her hawk eyes penetrated his almond ones.

"Having trouble with the wer are you?" she cackled.

"You have to help us!" Micky cried, ignoring the foul stench that she emanated. "That thing's gonna kill Mike and Davy!"

"I will help you only this once. My powers are fading. You have to be more careful next time. Find out who the werewolf is before All Hallow's Eve, for that is the date of the next blood moon and nothing will stop it from having its prey."

"All Hallow's Eve? You mean Halloween? But that's only four days away!"

"Then you better hurry!" she snorted. Raising her hand toward the sky, she muttered a soft chant and disappeared. Likewise, the raging wolf vanished, causing Mike and Davy to fall to the semi-hard sand.

"Ooh... me bum..." Davy moaned, rubbing his behind.

"Your bum?!!" Mike laughed. "You haven't been riding a mad wolf! Good thing Megan and Gabrielle went home before it got here." He looked around nervously. "Where did it go? It can't just disappear... can it?"

Micky ran up to his two friends and gave them each a bone-crushing bear hug. "It is gone! And you guys saved my life! Thanks, I owe you!"

Mike cringed. He thought he heard a rib crack. "We're even. You saved me from that thing before." He frowned in thought. "What happened to it?"

"The old lady from Gray's Toy Store did it," Micky explained. "Remember, I told you about her. The werewolf is real! She took him away to save us." He went on to tell them all the woman had told him.

"You mean tha' thing's defini'ly gonna kill one of us on 'alloween?" Davy gulped.

"No one's gonna get killed," Mike stated. "But still, we'd better be careful. That wolf came after us twice. It might come back." He started walking back into the pad with Micky and Davy following behind him, wondering which one of them would be the one to die.

All Hallow's Eve
"They do this every time!" Mike grumbled with his arms crossed. "They don't start getting ready until five minutes before we have to leave for the gig."

"Don't worry, Hon," Megan consoled. "They just want to look their best." She sat in the passenger seat of the Monkeemobile as Mike stood outside and leaned his back against it, complaining about how they were going to be late again. The four days had passed by fast, and nothing had happened. They hadn't seen the werewolf and Micky stopped having the weird dreams. They had all but forgotten about the terror that was supposed to strike tonight.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear they were out to sabotage the band." He sighed. "At least I convinced them not to dress up until after the gig."

Suddenly, Micky exploded out the door with a whoop. Behind him, Davy appeared, chasing the curly-haired drummer in his boxer shorts.

"What the...." Mike shouted as Megan covered her eyes and started snickering. Micky and Davy circled the red convertible two times before Mike grabbed Davy and slung him over his shoulder and started ambling towards the door.

" 'Ey!" the Englishman complained. "Le' me go!"

"You are supposed to be getting dressed," Mike proclaimed.

"Micky 'as my pants!"

Mike turned to glare at Micky and saw him giggling as he waved a pair of charcoal grey pants in the air. "Micky...."

Peter came limping out of the front door with a troubled expression on his face. He was carrying his bass guitar, but it had a big scratch on it. Gabrielle came out after him, apologizing for running into the wall with it. Peter was fingering the mark and sniffling, on the verge of tears. Davy started squirming in Mike's grasp as Micky made faces at him and waved the pants.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!!!" Mike roared and dropped Davy to the ground.

"Ow!" the shorter man cried, but fell silent when Mike gave him a frightening glare.

"Everybody get back inside and get ready," the Texan growled, looking every band member in the eye. "We want to look professional for Mr. Pederson, but we aren't dressed yet and we're three minutes late. This could be a big break for us, and I'm not about to let it just slip by because you three are acting like children!"

"Mike?" Peter whispered quietly as Micky and Davy high-tailed it back into the pad. "What about my bass?"

Mike sighed and ran a hand through his ebony hair. He grabbed the bass and looked it over. "It's not too bad. We can try to cover the scrape later when we get back. Now into the car." He shoved the instrument back into the blonde's hands and pushed him in the direction of the car.

"Thanks Mike," Peter grinned and hopped into the rear seats. A few seconds later, Micky and Davy came out, fully dressed. They ran over to the Monkeemobile, cowering when they passed by Mike. Micky sat in back with Peter and Davy hopped into the middle seats, where Gabrielle was waiting. Lastly, Mike climbed into the driver's seat and zoomed away to the nightclub.

~*~

Hours later, the group came back, excited. They had stayed two hours more than they intended to. All the kids that had showed up just to listen to them had impressed Brian Pederson so much that he offered to give them a steady position at the club. He had even paid them extra and told them to buy themselves some sweets when Micky, Davy, and Peter complained that they wouldn't have any time tonight for trick-or-treating. They had dropped the girls off at their houses and were on their way back to the pad.

"Man, what a night," Micky said to Peter. "I feel like I can sleep for the next month or two." He looked over at the bassist. "How are you feeling? You looked like you were ready to collapse on the stage."

"I'm just tired tonight," Peter yawned. "Shouldn't have gone swimming with you guys yesterday." He tapped his weak leg and smiled slightly. "This thing better heal up fast if we're gonna spend our nights standing around on stage."

"Maybe you should go see the doctor again, Peter," Mike said from the driver's seat. "It doesn't seem like it's improving much."

"Don't worry about it," Peter laughed softly. "It's not like a busted leg's gonna kill me or anything."

"Speakin' of killin'," Davy gulped as he remembered what the old woman said four nights ago. "One of us is supposed to die tonight...." Everyone immediately sobered at the comment.

"No one is going to die," Mike stated. "Nothing has happened yet and nothing will happen."

"I don't know, Mike," Micky mumbled as he looked up into the crisp night air. "Full moon on Halloween. Anything can happen. Ghosts and goblins roaming the streets, vampires come out of hiding, and werewolves go on a killing spree."

Peter gulped and started shaking. "Now see wha' you done?" Davy turned around in his seat and smacked Micky.

"Ow!" Micky cried, rubbing his head. "What'd you do that for?"

"You scared 'im! Don't worry Petah, i's cloudy tonight. Maybe th' werewolf can't change and kill us. And if 'e does, we can throw Micky to 'im." Peter smiled in relief.

"Hey!" Micky grumbled as he nestled down into the padded seat of the convertible. For some reason, he was feeling very tired. He had the urge to fall asleep right then. He shook his head hard, trying to clear out the cobwebs forming in his brain, but to no avail. He tried hard to stay awake, but his eyelids protested. He shut off his conscious half and fell into a deep sleep.

~*~

"Oh no...." Micky gasped as he opened his eyes to red-tinted nothingness. "Not here again." He was back on the astral plane, and the old woman was standing before him.

"I have brought you back," she said, moving towards him. "You haven't been searching out the wer."

"It hasn't attacked! We thought it was gone!" Micky stayed perfectly still. No movement means no vortex opening to show him what horrible future lay in store for him and his friends.

"Fool! It was just biding its time. It will attack tonight." With that, she disappeared. Where she floated opened a whirlpool, which started sucking Micky into inky darkness. He fought hard, but there was nothing he could use to oppose the force.

"I don't want to see any more!" he howled. But it was too late. He found himself standing in a dark area. When his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he looked around and sighed. He was at the pad.

Suddenly, the front door burst open and Davy came bouncing in, laughing. The short man moved towards the kitchen, but he never got there. Micky saw a quick movement from behind the spiral staircase, and smelled something odd. He saw hands with a bucket appear and he saw the contents of the bucket being splashed on Davy. Just then, Micky recognized the smell. Gas! He ran towards Davy, but stopped when he saw Megan step out from behind the stairway. Davy appeared equally shocked.

Megan lighted a match and held it up to her face. Her lovely features seemed as though they were etched in stone as her eyes glistened and glowed in the light of the dancing flame. "Die...." she whispered, and threw the match at Davy's feet.

Davy could only stare at it for a brief second before he burst into a glowing fireball. Micky watched in horror as he saw his friend being engulfed by the flames. Megan stood and observed coldly as the boy's hair flew about in a fiery halo before being dissolved by the blaze. Davy's high-pitched screams echoed in Micky's head as he watched the boy's soft skin being melted off his perfect face. Then the scream died as his lips peeled back and withered from the inferno. He fell to his blackened knees and Micky winced as he heard the loud crack of dry bones. Then he rolled onto his scorched back and stared lifelessly at the ceiling as his body continued to feed the deadly flames.

Micky ran over to his burning friend, but it was too late. He turned his attention to Megan, who stood staring at Davy's corpse in satisfaction. "Davy...." he shuddered. Then everything faded from view.

Micky woke up in the Monkeemobile. "Davy!" he screamed involuntarily. He looked around and saw that they had arrived at the pad. Mike and Peter were unloading their instruments. Davy had grabbed his tambourine and was going through the front door.

"No!" Micky shouted. He jumped from the car and ran in after him, earning stunned looks from Mike and Peter. As soon as he burst through the front door, he heard the loud splash of what he knew was gasoline being poured over Davy's head. Then Megan came out from behind the stairs with a lighted match. She grinned at Davy and prepared the throw the deadly flame.

Micky screamed and started running towards her, hoping to distract her long enough for him to reach her. It worked. She turned and stared at him in surprise, and then grunted as he slammed his shoulder into her gut, causing her to drop the match and fly backward into the kitchen area.

"Davy! Get away from the fire!" Micky shouted as he wrestled with Megan. Davy immediately yelped and backed away from the flame when he finally realized he was doused with gas. Peter and Mike came running

in, attracted by all the noise. They gasped as they took in the situation. Mike ran over to put the match out and Peter helped Micky subdue Megan.

"She's the werewolf!" Micky exclaimed when they had a firm grip on her. "She couldn't change tonight because it's cloudy out and she decided to kill Davy this way!" He glared at the fuming girl. "I knew you were the werewolf the first time I saw you. "

Megan scowled at Micky. "Let me go!" she screeched. "I am not the werewolf!" She turned her scowl to Davy. "He is!"

All four boys blinked in surprise. "You heard me," Megan continued. "I've been tracking this werewolf for years. Its mother was the wer that killed my father. My grandmother used her magic to track and kill that she-demon, but we didn't realize the evil thing had a child." She spat in Davy's direction. "Now my grandmother is too old to deal with another devil, but I'm not."

"Your grandmother?" Micky gasped. "You mean that strange old lady is your grandmother?!"

"Yes," she said, shooting daggers at Davy with her cold eyes. "We've tracked the wer to this very house. I befriended Gabrielle in order to get closer to you and I almost got you!" She started twisting and writhing to get free, but Micky and Peter held on tight.

"Wait a minute!" Davy exclaimed. "Wha' proof 'ave you go' tha' I'm the werewolf? Cause I'm no'!"

Megan sneered. "Of course you say that."

"No, Davy's right," Peter said quietly, limping to a kitchen drawer and taking out a long, sharp knife. He placed the biting tip against the back of Megan's neck and applied a bit of pressure, causing a drop of blood to trickle down her neck. "I'm the werewolf."

Megan gasped and was immediately still. She had gone after the wrong boy!

"Peter, what are you doing?!" Mike shouted at the blond. "Put that knife away!"

"No, Mike," Peter said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice. "You know, you weren't the first person I went after. She was. I was after her for years, for killing my mom."

"Your mother killed my father!" Megan shrieked.

"Your father was an evil man!" Peter's voice slightly rose as he applied more pressure to the knife. "He raped my mom! Then he beat her up and left her for dead! If the curse of the werewolf didn't set in that night, she wouldn't have survived. That's why she had to kill your father. Our father..." He paused a moment. "Sister...." He withdrew the knife and backed away from Megan. She immediately got up and ran over to the other Monkees.

The three boys stood gaping at their friend in stunned silence.

Peter turned to face them. "In case you're wondering, that was a hundred years ago. Having the wer blood slows down my aging. To me, four human years equals one wer year." He shook his head as if in pain.

When he spoke again, his voice was huskier, deeper. "You were right about not being able to change tonight, Davy. A werewolf needs the nourishment of the full moon's light to transform, but it seems weather conditions aren't at my favor." He looked out the kitchen window, and the others followed suit.

The moon was full, but the many clouds roaming between the earth and sky dimmed its pallid glow. As the five stood staring, the pale circle darkened, and soon the silver globe turned into a red circle of blood.

Peter turned back to his friends, and they gasped as they saw the same crimson tint in his tawny eyes. "I may not be able to change," he growled deeply, his voice almost unrecognizable. "But I can still kill!"

He jumped at the four, who immediately scattered in different directions. He yelped in pain as he landed on his bad leg, almost going down. But before anyone could take advantage of that, he recovered, even more mad than before.

Peter slowly advanced on Megan, his eyes glowing brighter with every step. He lunged, aiming the knife for her throat. She quickly ducked away, and he snarled in rage as the blade missed its target.

"Peter! Please, stop it!" Micky tried to reason with the blonde. "We're your friends! You don't want to do this!"

"Don't I?" Peter smiled, his eyes flashed so red, they seemed almost as if they were on fire. "You don't understand. This is the one night in a hundred years that I get the power to kill an enemy." He leapt for Megan again. She wasn't as fast this time and was soon pinned by Peter. He raised the small dagger and grinned as he anticipated the kill.

"Peter," Mike called. "I really hate to do this, but you leave me no choice." The blonde glanced behind him, and gasped as he saw Mike swinging a baseball bat straight at his head. He tried to duck, but the bat still caught him, and he went sprawling on the floor.

Mike gulped as he realized he had hit one of his best friends. But the shock changed to horror as he watched Peter stand up as if the wood had never made contact with his head and gaze him in the eyes with pure fury.

"Shouldn't have done that..." Peter growled softly, aiming the dagger at Mike now. Megan retreated to the safety of the bandstand, hiding behind the drum set.

"Peter, please," Davy begged, slowly approaching the hate-filled boy. "Look at what you're doing! We're not the enemy, we're your friends."

"Friends!?" Peter spat, grabbing Davy around the neck and lifting him into the air. "What kind of friends steal the girl you love?" He glared back at Mike. "What kind of friends treat you like a child who doesn't know anything?" Lastly, he turned to Micky. "What kind of friend never listens to your worries because he's too busy trying to be funny?" All three stared at him in shock.

"Peter..." Micky tried to argue, but nothing came to his mind. He knew Peter was right. "We're sorry," he finally said.

Peter lowered Davy back to the ground. The little man backed away, gasping for breath. He looked into Peter's eyes and saw the red fade the tiniest bit. "Yeah, Petah. We'ah sorry... I'm sorry."

"Me too," Mike choked out. "I'm... sorry."

"No," Peter cried, shaking his head as his mind fought against his bestial urges. "I can't do this!" He looked up at his friends, the tawny color of his eyes returned almost completely. "I thought I could control it... I was a fool..."

"You can fight it Pete," Micky encouraged. "You can win!"

"There is only one way to win..." Peter whispered as he gripped the handle of the knife tighter and turned the blade on himself. He rested the tip right below his rib cage.

"Peter! No!" the three other boys shouted.

"It's too late for me anyway." Peter closed his eyes and embraced the dagger. He felt it cut through his skin like the claws he had almost used on his friends the past week. He felt the blade glide through his chest and pierce his heart.

"I'm sorry too..." he murmured as he opened his eyes to take one more look at the people he held most dear to him as he took his final breath and closed his eyes forever.

~*~

Two days later- All Saint's Day
Micky, Mike, Davy, Gabrielle and Megan stood in a semicircle around Peter's grave. Each held a single rose to place on the blonde's final resting-place.

"I can't believe he didn't tell us..." Micky mumbled quietly.

"He said he didn't want you to worry about him," Gabrielle answered him. "I wanted to tell you guys. I didn't think he should've kept it secret."

"So that's what he meant when he said it was too late for him anyway," Mike sighed. "He had terminal cancer in his leg."

"No wondah 'e was in so much pain," Davy chimed in. "It 'ad spread throughout 'is 'ole body..."

"I still wish he had told us," Micky's voice cracked as he started to cry. All of them placed their roses on the mound of dirt covering their friend. "Good-bye, big Peter..."

"So long, old buddy..."

"Rest in peace..."

"At least the horror of the werewolf is over," Megan said as she gazed at the cold tombstone.

Mike looked down at where he had scratched his hand on Peter's teeth the time he was riding him in wolf form. The saliva had seeped into his body and tainted his blood. "Maybe not..." he whispered.