Chapter One: There's a Bad Moon on the Rise

I see the bad moon arising
I see trouble on the way
I see earthquakes and lightning
I see bad times today.
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise.
- Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bad Moon Rising

Hannah Madison was fourteen when she was bitten by a werewolf, although perhaps bitten was the wrong word. Mauled was more accurate a description, or even mutilated. Whatever the word, she'd been left for dead by a large, wolf-like creature. She didn't realise what it had actually been until later.

It occurred three years ago. Until then, Hannah had been a normal girl with a normal life - normal parents, normal friends, normal boyfriend. One night changed all that.

She'd been out with friends. They'd gone to the local cinema to see a film - a generic romantic comedy that Hannah forgot the plot of five minutes after it ended. She walked home with her friends. One by one they left to finish the rest of their route home alone, until it was just Hannah and her best friend, Marion Nichols. There was a graveyard that they had to go through to get home. Hannah was having a brilliant time, laughing and yelling at the top of her voice, just happy to be outside in the dark. She loved the night; she was in her element when she was outside at night time.

Marion, however, was much more cautious. She said anxiously, "Maybe you shouldn't do that, Hannah."

Hannah turned to look at her and frowned. Her long, light brown hair fell across her eyes and she brushed it away impatiently. "Do what?" she inquired, somewhat amused. "Yell?"

Marion nodded. "We're in a graveyard! What if there's...something...lurking around in here? You're just attracting its attention." She glanced up at the sky, and Hannah followed her gaze. She was looking at the full moon, her eyes wide with fear.

Hannah laughed. "You're joking. Do you really think a werewolf is going to get us, Marion? You've seen too many horror movies. We're fine. Look, see?" And then she did the thing that sealed her fate: she threw back her head and howled, mimicking a werewolf. The howl echoed through the night, sounding uncannily like a wolf.

There was silence for a moment as Hannah grinned and Marion froze, scared. The silence was broken by an answering howl from somewhere nearby. Too nearby. Marion screamed and, after a moment of shock, Hannah joined her. Their eyes darted around the graveyard nervously.

When nothing else strange occurred, Hannah said, as calmly as she could, "Maybe it was a dog."

"I-I suppose."

They hurried through the graveyard, picking up their pace - walking as fast as they could without actually breaking into a run. They reached the gate that signalled the exit to the cemetery, and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

That was when they heard a growl from behind them.

Hannah's first thought was an annoyed, Oh crap, a dog. Which was stupid because it didn't sound particularly like a dog, it just made the most sense to her. But then she turned around and her second thought was, Holy shit! because there was a giant wolf crouched beside a gravestone. It was dark grey, flecked with a rust colour that ran to cream on its nose and belly. It large ears were alert and its lips were drawn back from its teeth in a snarl. Its yellow eyes, focused on them, glowed in the dark.

The two girls froze, and Hannah's body began to go into the flight-or-fight response she'd learned about in Psychology. She vaguely remembered something about the General Adaptation Syndrome. The first stage was the alarm stage, where the muscles tensed, the heart beat faster and breathing and perspiration increased. That was definitely what was happening to her right now.

She stared at the huge wolf and her stunned brain tried to figure out what a wolf was doing in a small village in Leicestershire, England. England doesn't have scary, vicious animals unless you counted foxes and badgers. Hannah wondered vaguely whether it had escaped from a zoo or a private owner, like the Surrey puma was supposed to have.

Then Hannah realised that there were more pressing concerns than where the wolf had escaped from, like the fact that it was looking at her and Marion like they was breakfast, lunch and dinner all rolled into one.

"Hannah..." said Marion quietly, her voice quavering.

Suddenly Hannah's brain kicked into gear and she screamed. The wolf growled again and she began to look around wildly for some way to escape. She was pressed against the gate, and she kicked it with her heel to try and open it. Of course this didn't actually work, but she kept trying anyway. She was too afraid to turn around and open the gate; she worried that if she looked away from the wolf, it would attack her.

The wolf took a few steps towards her, still crouched down, so it sort of shuffled along the path on its belly. If she hadn't been so scared she was practically wetting herself, she would have found it funny.

It was focusing on her, she realised. Probably because she was the one making the most noise and movement. That was good. Marion was shorter and younger than her, albeit only by a couple of inches and months. She had to keep the wolf away from Marion.

"Marion, stay where you are," said Hannah as softly as she could, but it didn't stop the wolf's hackles from rising. "Don't move." She began to move to her right, keeping her back brushed against the wall that surrounded the cemetery so she wouldn't lose sight of the wolf. It watched her with its big golden eyes. It looked almost disdainful, as if it were thinking, Hah, you stupid human, thinking you can escape from me

She shuffled along a little further, and since the wolf still hadn't moved to get her, she broke into a run, not knowing where she was running to. It was a mistake. She heard the wolf snarl, and she screamed, "Help!" in case there was anyone in the vicinity stupid enough to try and save a stranger from a giant wolf with big teeth. She knew that the wolf had given chase, but she didn't dare look round, her heart slamming against her ribs. She ran faster than she'd ever run before in her life, and she knew it wouldn't be fast enough.

The wolf tackled her and she felt its claws sink into her back, tearing through denim and cotton and skin. She screamed and fell down under its weight, her head smacking into the ground, knowing that she was doomed.

Its legs were either side of her body, and for some reason she turned onto her back to look up at it. She could feel its hot breath on her cheek. It smelled of carrion, of death. "Help!" she shrieked, even though by now she should have realised no one was around to help - except Marion, and that was who she was trying to protect. "Somebody, please, help me!"

The wolf snapped its teeth at her in warning and clawed at her, slashing her stomach, cutting deeply, burning pain ripping through her. She screamed in agony and threw up her hands in a futile effort to protect herself. Teeth closed on her arm, jaws clamping down hard, ripping into her skin; she had no breath left to scream. It gripped her arm and dragged her backwards, further into the graveyard. The ground was bumpy and hard, bruising her, but the small pain seemed insignificant compared to the wolf's bite.

The wolf stopped moving suddenly and released her arm; Hannah was too terrified and hurt to move. It had dragged her under a tree, but she could still see the night sky through the bare branches. The wolf bent its snout towards her neck, and she knew with a cold certainty that it was going to break her neck with its teeth, like she'd seen predators do in nature programmes before they devoured their prey.

But then she heard a voice shout, "Hey, wolfie!" and the wolf's head jerked round, almost as if it understood the words. Hannah recognised the voice: Marion's. What was she doing? Why hadn't she run away? "I'm over here!" Her voice rang out, loud and clear and surprisingly brave. "Why don't you take a bite out of me, you big fur ball?"

Hannah tried to speak, to say "No," but her mouth wouldn't form the words. As the wolf leaped at Marion, Hannah couldn't do anything but stare up at the sky, at the full moon surrounded by thousands of tiny stars. Her breath fogged out above her in the cold night air, her breathing slow and ragged.

Suddenly she heard a scream - Marion's - quickly cut off. She tried to move her head to the side but couldn't. She didn't seem to be able to move at all. Her mind felt fuzzy; she seemed to be disconnected from everything. She had a strange feeling of detachment, and all she seemed able to think about was the moon and the pain. They were the only things that existed just then.

The sound of a gun being fired echoed through the night. Something thudded to the ground, and for a moment all was still. Then footsteps, moving closer. She could see someone in her peripheral vision. A man, old enough to be her father, holding a shotgun. She was incapable of doing anything but staring up at him as he looked down at her. Slowly, he raised the shotgun and aimed it at her, his face intent.

The pain seemed to be lessening, which was a blessed relief; she was beginning to feel numb - numb and exhausted. It meant that she felt no fear as she stared down the barrel of a gun. She had no energy left to be afraid anymore.

They remained like that for a long moment. Then the man's expression softened, and he lowered the gun. Hannah lost the battle to keep her eyes open. The man's face disappeared and was replaced by darkness.