It was a dark night, darker than most in the month. Although the clouds were far beond the horizon, no light shown down to the earth. The new moon wonderous occasion, and it always facinated the man standing casually next to the stop sign at the end of the road. He drew his knife slowly and carefully, ready to barge in to someone's house. This time he would claim the lady and her son in the third house down the street.
The air was filled with the nightly dew as the man sprinted down the sidewalk, ready to take yet another's life. He briskly stepped up the stairs leading to the front porch. He tested the door. Locked... he thought grimly as he got out his lock picking set from his back pocket. Just more time I'm risking to get my revenge.
Calmly twisting and turning his lock pick, he eventually heard a click from the other side of the door. He pushed against it and it opened, slowly and steadily. He creeped up the staircase and readied his knife. He stepped into the first room where the mother was sleeping. Without a single inkling of regret or sorrow, he lifted his blade into the air and in one solid movement, plunged it into her heart. Not a sound was made. He took the purse from a nearby bedside table and entered the hallway once more, this time heading farther down to the end of the corridor. He opened the door as it made a slight creaking noise and saw the child, probably five or six years old. Once again lifting his dagger in the air, a cutting motion came to the boy's throat. This time, the man had missed his mark. The child had survived the initial blow.
A loud shriek filled the air, and although short, it was enough for the houses adjacent to know something was supicious. Within a minute he saw a light flicker on in the window of a man's house across the street. He had to get out. Fast.
He made a mad dash down the stairs and rammed his shoulder on the door, casing it to open with a loud thump. He ran down the driveway and into the forest back at the end of the road where he had started. He leaped the fence that cut it off from the road and ran through the short area of trees and into the open fields beyond. By the time he was midway across the meadow, a police helicopter was searching the area with its vast and wide spotlight. He ran ever faster, his feet gliding along the grass without making a sound, his blood spattered T-shirt waving in the wind, the visor of his mask glinting in the light of the street posts. It was then the chopper spotted him.
A loud, booming voice came from above. "Sir, we need you to stop where you are, drop any weapons you have on the ground, and put your hands up." The man kept running.
"Sir, I will command our snipers aboard this very aircraft to take you out. We know what you've done over the past few months and we will track you down no matter how long it takes." Not even seeming to notice the bright light that was now upon him, the man continued to run.
Suddenly, he heard a gunshot. A mound of dust exploded nearly four feet away from him. He heard another bullet whiz past his head. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the low flying airship, at the side of the craft where he could see one of the snipers peeking his gun out from the side of the chopper. He slowed down, aimed his shot, and fired, hitting the sniper in his temple, killing him, and making him topple out of the aircraft and falling out like a ragdoll. His body made a thud against the ground while the criminal sped off once more.
This time there were no more shots. He watched as the helicopter behind him slowly lowered to the ground next to where their comrade had hit the ground. He dove into the bushes and sat for a minute, catching his breath. He then transformed, slowly but surely, into his natural form. He raised his head in a dog like fashion and howled to the empty moon. "I am the werewolf. You cannot stop me. I will rip you all to shreds one by one. I am impossible to kill, invulnerable to death. I have wandered throughout my many centuries on this planet and no town has ever been able to stand up to my strength. I will kill you all, and you cannot stop me."
The message was in somewhat of a hissing tone, although clearly audible. The people of the villiage shuddered in their beds, now aware they were under attack. They had 12 houses in their neighborhood. That means 12 days to stop the werewolf, before it had claimed the villiage as its own.
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Well, it started with the Daft Punk mask idea thing, but it ended in a game of Werewolf, just because I've been dying to do a WW fic. I think I might use this for my first chapter, if I add a bit on to it. Maybe my Prologue. I dunno yet. Anyways, opinions?