She was running for her life, stumbling in the mist. Her legs dragged behind her like anchors; her lungs burned and her head throbbed. She gulped fog; it stung her eyes and clogged her throat.
It was all there was to breathe.
'Just a matter of time before he catches me,' she realized with mounting terror. The creature that had been a handsome young man a half hour earlier was gaining on her. He could have easily run her down by now. Unlike her, he was not tiring.
He was toying with her, waiting to make the kill.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' she thought. She had never seen him before; she didn't even know his name, but he was so good-looking and charming with his wavy brown hair and hazel eyes...
So, naturally, like a starry-eyed schoolgirl, she had agreed to leave the Halloween party and drive out to the fog drenched woods to fuck him.
'Stupid!'
She had sucked him off and swallowed his cum. She'd gotten him hard again, and he had talked her into letting him ass-fuck her. He was huge; it hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced, and he had brutally pushed her face down in the back seat to muffle her screams. He came hard, and she could feel a hot, sticky mixture of blood and semen drooling from her torn asshole as she lay face down and sobbing on the car seat.
Then the full moon had risen...
Somehow she had escaped from the car as he was Changing, and now she was running naked through the woods in sheer terror.
She could hear the otherworldly howling of the werewolf shivering through the skeletal shadows of the bare trees. The wail sent goosebumps coursing down her arms and back. The sleepy sounds of the night trailed off and ceased, as if all of nature realized that an unholy, unnatural predator was loose and on the prowl.
"Help!" she screamed hysterically. "Somebody help me!"
She flailed aimlessly through the murky night. The dewy grass seemed to writhe sluggishly underfoot. Tendrils of tattered, clammy fog streamed forward, eager to clutch her in their grasp, and plucked at her wearily churning feet; the billowing mist disoriented her. She had emerged from the woods and was back on the road, with no idea whether she had been running in circles.
Then she realized she had been doing just that.
She was back at the car.
A hulking shape loomed up indistinctly before her, blurred and gray in the fog.
God, no! The werewolf had somehow gotten in front of her!
The girl caught a fleeting impression of a massive, wolflike thing, huge as a bear, covered with shaggy brown fur. The werewolf's paws were studded with talons that resembled handfuls of jet black surgical scalpels, and rows of gleaming, razor sharp fangs. Glowing amber eyes that burned like fire fixed on her, and he grinned, dripping scalding drool. His fetid breath gagged her.
"Nooo..." she moaned.
His claws flashed in the moonlight, and her world came apart in a blur of shredding talons and slashing fangs - and indescribable pain. He lifted her off the ground; she kicked frantically, and her ear-splitting screams of agony shattered the silence of the fog-smoked woods as the viciously snarling thing began to tear her apart. He sank his fangs into her right shoulder and drove his claws into her breasts and legs, and then shook her savagely as he mauled her.
He dropped her face down on the hood of the car.
The girl hung precariously on the knife-edge of unconsciousness. Her left breast dangled by a thread of flesh, and her insides spilled from the gruesome wound that had been her belly. She could feel the heat of the cooling engine radiating up through the metal against her left cheek, against her horribly mangled body. Out of the corner of her eye in the moon-soaked fog, she could see glistening torrents of her blood streaming across the hood and disappearing over the side. Her sense of color drained away, and sluggish, muffled thunder roared and buzzed in her ears.
Suddenly the creature's leathery paws grabbed hold of her hips, and she moaned as his talons sliced into her flesh for purchase. He stood behind her; she could feel his muscled, furry legs pushing between hers, forcing her to open herself to him.
Over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of the creature's huge penis, sheathed like a wolf's. The pink shaft was as long as her forearm and as big around.
'God, no! He wouldn't...'
Something probed between her inner thighs, and she screamed in agony as he thrust to the hilt into her dry cunt. He savagely pumped into her as the buzzing grew louder and louder until his hot cum blasted into her womb...
She screamed and sat straight up in bed, trembling violently. Her breathing was rapid, ragged. Her hands were tangled in her sheets, her body drenched in sweat. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Simone Delacambre stared numbly around her darkened room in the park lodge, whimpering, wondering where her tormentor had disappeared to, and when he would emerge from the shadows again...
The buzzing continued unabated. She turned her head toward the noise, spying the clock flashing in time to the incessantly rasping alarm..
"Shut up!" she cried.
Simone angrily slapped off the alarm, then began to rock back and forth in the bed, tightly hugging her knees to her body, sobbing softly.
The nightmares had never really gone away, but they hadn't been this bad for many months. Since the beginning of October, however, they had been more vivid, more intense, more real - as they always were this time of year.
This afternoon had been the worst.
They were always the same - vague, surreal, and terrifying. She was running through nondescript, fog shrouded woods, chased by a beast from hell. The images ended when the werewolf started to...when he began to...
She shuddered; she couldn't even bring herself to think about what the creature was doing to her at the end of her nightmare.
The thing had raped her...
Whatever this obssession was, it surely had to be more than her imagination, because something drove her to come to the same place every Halloween - Tanglewood Hills State Park on Route 56 in Middleton, Indiana.
"Maybe this year you'll find some answers, Simone," she whispered aloud. "Like who you really are..."
She had awakened four years ago in a Chicago hospital. Her driver's license said she was Simone Marie Delacambre, age eighteen, and she lived in an elegant house in the posh Glenview Estates gated community in a suburb of Chicago. She had apparently inherited enough money from her parents to allow her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.
And she could remember none of it - who her deceased parents were, what they looked like - she only had pictures - who her friends, if any, were, what her life had been like.
The only constant in her life was that every year she was driven to return to this place at Halloween, like the swallows flying back to Capistrano. It was instinctive.
She had no idea why...
Simone glanced at the clock. It was 5:06 pm. She'd called Professor Swanson to let him know she was going out of town, and that she wouldn't be at his evening class at the university tonight. Then she allowed herself to sleep as late as she possibly could, to prepare herself for this evening.
Halloween.
And this Halloween was unusual. It was the night of the second full moon of the month - the Hunter's Moon - the brightest full moon of all, aiding hunters who stalked their prey on this night.
Simone showered quickly and toweled off, ruffling her short hair with one hand. She caught a glimpse of her naked form in one of the lodge suite's one-way tinted windows as she padded across the floor, and she studied herself critically.
She still had her youthful complexion, which was nice, because it allowed her the luxury of a make-up free, no-maintenance look. She was beautiful; she had a firm body, slender and supple, with pert breasts. 'A dancer's body,' she mused wistfully, and wondered where that thought had come from. Her jade green eyes contrasted strikingly with her burnished auburn hair.
Simone turned heads everywhere she went; she'd had many suitors in the last four years, and even though she'd been strongly attracted to one or two of them, she had not allowed herself the luxury of a relationship. There were too many question marks in her life; she did not want to add any more.
And she had other...issues that would have gotten in the way.
She glanced at the costume she had bought, thinking she might attend the annual lodge Costume Dance party. 'Sexy Vampire Bride,' the label on the package read. It was a translucent white gown with a very low cut bodice, slit up one side.
She doubted she'd be using it now; she wasn't in the mood.
Simone dressed quickly. She pulled on a black turtleneck and a lightweight midnight-blue nylon windsuit, and slipped on a pair of comfortable hiking boots. It was a touch on the chilly side, but she didn't want to overdress, either. This outfit would do just fine.
She opened the drawer of an end table and lifted out a compact little 9 mm Beretta automatic. It felt good in her hand; she pulled back on the slide and chambered a round into the pistol. It had a fresh clip of silver bullets and was ready to go, so she slipped it in a jacket pocket. She glanced at the tinted window. The sun had just slipped below the horizon.
Good; time to get moving.
Time to go hunting...
*****
The werewolf crouched in the shadows behind a thick tree trunk, tensing, ready to spring. He watched his prey intently. They were coming closer - a gaggle of costumed high school girls walking down the path, laughing and chatting, unaware of what awaited them. Closer...closer...now!
With a ferocious roar, he leaped out in front of them, landing with inches of them, his claws extended overhead, his fangs flashing. The girls screamed in unison and paled, and high-tailed it off in the opposite direction.
One of them cried, "Oh, no - I pissed in my pants!" and they all started giggling and slowed to a walk.
