This was meant to be a scary story for my English class. I got the vibe that it wasn't too scary.

Sharon then made a mistake. She followed the howls.


The moon danced across the sky as the fire crackled in the darkness. The moon was full tonight; yet it wasn't quite bright enough for Sharon to see out into the woods. She was tired, but her body had practically fallen asleep where she was sitting; and she didn't have the energy to get up and walk to her tent and go to sleep. The irony of her thoughts had escaped not her. However she was too comfortable sitting by the fire; watching the fire flicker, her hands slightly shielding her eyes from the escaping embers.

Sharon couldn't tell how long she had been sitting on the slightly damp log, but she could guess at it being at least an hour since everyone had gone to sleep. That meant it was coming up to around eleven thirty.

It wasn't cold as the summer was still upon them, but her blanket was pulled around her in a tight cocoon, and she saw the fire finally dying down after many hours alight. She knew that it was not probably time to go to her tent, but she still wanted to watch the cinders. Somewhere in the woods; she heard a wolf howl, but for some reason, she knew not to be afraid. She felt safe.

She felt her eyes slowly droop and at that point she knew she had to go to sleep; but he hadn't come back yet. That was the reason for her staying up later than her other friends: Brandon. He'd told her that he wouldn't be gone long and that she should just go to sleep, but she'd wanted to wait. He was her best friend; of course she would wait.

Another howl, but this time she didn't safe. She was afraid. This howl was strangely more fearsome than the last. Automatically wondered what had made the other howl more calming rather than fear-provoking. Sharon then made a mistake. She followed the howls.

Stumbling along the dry path; walking aimlessly and jumping at every slight sound, made Sharon realise that there was something wrong. Only now did she realise that going into the woods; alone, at night and following strange sounds, was most definitely a bad idea. The forest floor was littered with twigs and leaves that crumpled under foot, their noises always making Sharon jump a foot into the air, were not loud enough to drown out the steady, yet ominous breathing that she heard. With a strange feeling in her gut, she knew she was being watched. But by who? Everyone she knew was asleep and it was the middle of the night. Her mind flashed to murderers that stalk teenage girls in the woods before killing them. She shoved this image about of her mind before shuddering, spinning on one foot to turn around and coming face to face with an animal.

This was not just any animal, it had strange yet familiar blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Its height only came up to her shoulder but something told her that it could be fierce if need be. A sudden burst of silvery white right came from above and she looked up to see a cloud move out the way of the moon. She returned her attention to the animal in front of her and she could finally make out its shape. It was a wolf. Sharon shook her head; this wasn't right, by all logic; her brain should be yelling 'run!' But it wasn't. There was no alarm or fear of this animal.

"Umm, hi Sharon." That was Brandon's voice. Brandon's voice. Where was he? She wanted to shout at him for making her wait for him. But she twisted and spun in all direction; scanning the trees for the sandy brown hair of her friend without any sign of him. She heard the same voice again, "Sharon, it's me…"

It was coming from the wolf… wait, what? The wolf was talking to her, in Brandon's voice, the wolf that had the same eyes and hair as her best friend. Her mind frantically pieced together all the information before she figured it out. She tried to voice her revelation; but it came out in a gasp. "Brandon?"

The wolf audibly gulped and answered her, "…yeah?" Suddenly Sharon felt very ill, the blood rushed out of her face and her hearing was cut off. She had fainted.

She awoke a few minutes later to a low growling noise. It hurt her ears but she turned her head to see the source of the sound. It was a wolf, but it didn't have the same sandy-brown fur of her supposed best-friend. This one was grey. How many wolves are there? thought Sharon.

Her quiet intake of air was somehow loud enough for the two wolves surrounding her to hear. The grey wolf's eyes were not kind, nor did they look humane. They were definitely an icy blue that could belong to a human; but they looked angry. They looked scary. Just then, she knew that the second howling that she's heard at the campfire belonged to this wolf.

She saw the sandy coloured fur away from her, huddled in a slight ball and she heard Brandon's voice saying, "don't do it, just don't." She didn't understand these words; but when the larger, grey wolf towered over her, she half knew. Maybe it was going to kill her? She didn't know, and she didn't care; she could see Brandon's…paw and it was dripping with blood. That was why he was huddled. She wanted to reach out and help him, but she couldn't without touching the grey wolf that was now, well she couldn't tell what it was doing. Its muzzle was close to her neck and she could feel the hot breath of the animal on her face.

Brandon growled one "no!" before the wolf bit down into her neck; not completely, but enough to probably leave a scar. She knew about the myths of were-wolves. Being bitten meant you were to turn into one. Realising her fate too late, she struggled and fail to push the animal away from her. The grey wolf whispered in her ear, it was a rough voice and she'd have shied away from it if she wasn't paralysed with pain. "Welcome to the pack."


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-Oujdagirl