"They ate him!  Mercy, they ate him."

I bolted through the woods thrashing at stray branches and brush with one clear destination in mind, AWAY.  The scene played in my head as my stomach churned, even though nothing remained to purge.  Only an hour had passed since the ambush in the clearing, and I alone survived.  I knew it was a mistake to camp so far out, in these woods, at this time of night.

"Help me, please help me", I cried into the wind, praying it carried more than my desperation.  Maybe a rancher was near, out checking his livestock would hear, and come with his rifle cocked and loaded.

Dank air scorched my lungs; the ground leeched my strength, as I willed my fear to be still.  I couldn't loose it just yet, had to push myself onward, panicking only made for tastier prey. 

The crunch of dead leaves became the soft rustle of grass, as I cleared the forest in a stumbling trot.  My calves strained with effort, knees threatened to buckle, and both arms were too numb to command.

Exhaustion found me first, as I knew the pack would soon too.  Time, like my luck, had run out.  Less than a mile away, I heard the alpha's bay, and the blood froze within my veins. 

Not an owl hooted, nor frog croaked, or even a cricket dared to chirp.  For the master had spoken, his long reign unbroken, in homage the forest fell silent in token.

No matter what, I had to get up.  I had to make myself keep going.   Across the pasture floor, a hundred feet or more, stood a cottage with door wide open.  It was empty I could see, which didn't matter to me, as I had no more strength to flee.  I barred the heavy door, crawled across the wooden floor, and prayed, as I never had before.

                                 

Through the trees they poured in a monstrous wake, of grizzled fur, razor fangs, and foamed maws.  The cottage was soon surrounded: with large paws they pounded, against every shuttered pane, door, and grate.

I ran to the second floor, pulled down the attic door, and climbed the stairs with desperate intent. Then I secured the bolt, built a barricade and hoped they'd loose interest, go away, relent. 

The autumn moon burned bright that sorrowful night, as a harsh wind rattled the roof.  Upon a discarded mat in a far corner I sat, alone in the dark with the awful truth.  I was glad the others had died so that I might stay alive.  The relief I could no longer hide.  Overwrought, I rocked as I heard a knock and watched as a shadow passed outside.

I braved the window to see, what destiny had in store for me, and immediately filled with dread.  For on the opposite side the alpha grinned wide, and regarded me with a tilt of his head.

                                            

I suddenly despised the Lon Chaney lies, and Hollywood's special effects.  No college kid in London or silver tipped bludgeon could save me from this horrific fate.  My humanity it seemed would soon be a dream, as the alpha crashed through the glass plate.  He decided not to tarry, as he was anxious to marry, and determined I would be the perfect mate.