by Luke Phillips

Created on: October 31, 2007

A howl of a halloween.
Ruebus sighed. The mountain air chilled him, and he pulled the thick blanket more tightly around him. he had already removed his clothing and placed them in a bag in the back of the pick up. He was miles out of town, and the scent of pine assured him of the closeness of wilderness. Night was falling, and a few stars were already peeking out at the retreating day. His heartbeat had slowed, and he could feel the methodical thud in his chest as he looked up to welcome the night.

He had found it amusing that the full moon had fallen on halloween this year. Earlier in the day, he had even kidded himself that he would be able to stay in town, as everyone would think he was just wearing a costume. The smile had soon faded though. He could never completely remember the full effect of the transformation, but he was sure that it would be all too convincing. He could never even remember if he walked on two legs, or ran on four. In fact, all he ever remembered was what we saw and felt in his dreams. The chasing down of a deer. the bloodlust thundering through his veins just before jaws snapped shut.
This was his fourth full moon. If he had known that the dog he'd hit that day was a wolf, he probably wouldn't have even got out of the car. But that was old news now. The benefits of being a lycanthrope was a remarkable ability to heal. The scar had disappeared after his first full moon. He had been on the ranch, bringing in the horses when he had begun to change. The horses had been spooked by him all day. The next morning, he had found what was left of the two that hadn't run away fast enough. Ever since then, he had made sure he was no where near another human on the night of the full moon. He was never going to risk that.
The noise of the engine snapped him out of the trance he had slipped into. A car was coming up the road. It was till out of sight, far round the bend. But it was getting closer. His heightened senses took over, his ears, already slightly narrower and tipped than a few minutes ago, seemed to prick up and follow the sound as it drew nearer. He was poised to run. But something held him there.
The car screamed round the bend, almost out of control. It was a black SUV, with tinted windows and even with his eyes he couldn't see the driver. The popping sound from the wheel arch came unexpectedly. The car was already sideways when the blowout shook the chassis, lifting it into the air as it spun wildy out of control. It crashed down onto

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