This was my most hellish night of my life. It started out with a kegger on an old abandoned farm and i'd wandered drunkedly out into some woods to piss. I was a 17 year old jock at a local small town high school named Roy, and i'd be graduating this year. I let out a stream and it hit a big tree before me, then i gazed upward at the night sky and saw it was a full moon. Usually it was Ethan who set up these drinking parties, but when i asked him earlier he told me he had nothing to do with this one. In fact, nobody did. There were just a bunch of paper flyers advertising it downtown, they mentioned the party location but nothing about who set it up. At least the beer was good. I'd just finished up my business when i heard canine growling behind me. I whirled around and my blood turned to ice at what i saw. There were two wolfish, furry creatures before me and they were full of large fangs and claws. Each of them stood 7 feet tall. Something inside of me screamed RUN! and so i bolted like crazy into the trees. I heard the monsters howling and they were quickly catching up to me. I then decided to quickly scramble up a tree and into some branches for safety. It seemed like a good idea at the time. but one of the monsters started climbing up the tree after me. I took out my Shining Serpent pocket knife and stabbed it down into the creature's snout. He fell away with a canine yelp of pain and hit the ground below. But he quickly got back onto his feet, looked up at me and growled menacingly. The bloody wound in his snout quickly healed before my eyes. Shit......Suddenly there was a gunshot and part of the monster's head exploded. It was quickly followed by a second gunshot and the other monster's head was blown off. Big Fat Arnie, the high school janitor, appeared with a smoking double barrel shotgun. He looked up in the branches and asked if i was ok. I jumped down and asked him what the hell were these things. Arnie reloaded his shotgun and said isn't it obvious? Then he said there were several different ways to kill a werewolf, but silver wasn't always handy and scrambling a werewolf's brains with lead was often practical. He drew out a six-shot, Voluminous Inc. .38 caliber revolver and asked if i knew how to handle one of these. I said i did as i'd spent many hours shooting cans and paper targets. He handed me the gun, Arnie then said there was too much to explain now and that we had to go warn the party-goers.