Wolf Man
A howl echoed through out the house. He clutched the keys in his pocket, sure he had seen him, it, come in here. He inched forward, the floor boards moaning beneath his feet. His breath coming out in ice puffs as he moved further in.
His body tensed as he garbed at the first door he saw, it creaked as he pushed it open, the house swallowing the noise, nothing moved. Walking through what seem to be the remains of a kitchen, swiping his hands through the ash that had settled like snow. Cold air wafted through a broken window , cob webs dancing in the breeze. He looked away surveying the rest of the room, nothing but burnt remains of counters and empty space, just a empty black fire place with something sitting on the mantel. He wandered forward looking for some sort of answer as to why it would come here of all places. His eyes inspected the small rectangular frame before picking it up and swiping the dust allowing it to float in the air, under closer inspection he realized it was a photo, slightly charred at the edges but having survived the fire. A beautiful girl stood in the centre, hair falling in soft curls below her shoulders and dirty blonde in colour, two huge eyes started back, voluptuous lips parted slightly in a awkward smile. Images flooded behind his eyes, he had seen her before, except older, and in all truth she had been dead when he seen her.
From some dark part of the house an inhuman snarl invaded his ears, fear ran though his body turning his blood cold as the house settled back into a ere silence. He knew he should leave, run and not look back, but the small part of him nagged to keep going, that he should be here. Slipping out of the room he moved to the stairs, they groaned and moaned taking his weight as he ascended up them. Most rooms where just charred remains of their former glory, some had tattered curtains or blankets in them, others where missing whole sections of roof or floor.
One door though remained, standing on its last legs and hanging slightly on its hinges, a slither of moon light seeping through the cracks. Tip towing to the door, he felt his heart pound beneath his rib cage, and in that small moment he started to question himself but still he crept forward, reaching out with his hand. He hesitated for a second, hearing the growl behind the door, but he steadied his heart and gently pushed the door, allowing it to swing on its hinges.
At first he saw nothing, the moonlight seeming to blind him for a second, but as his eyes adjusted his attention was instantly caught, eyes fixing on the wolf in the centre of the room. Only it couldn't be a wolf, he knew it couldn't be a wolf, because he sore it was him out in the woods.
This wolf was huge, a good 4ft tall, his fur was jet black and if it wasn't for the moon light he may have never seen him. He has sharp long claws that would have no problem tearing through his flesh. But these weren't the things that stood out the most, no it was the two blood red eyes staring right at him. It was then he realised he really needs to sit down and have a talk with his curiosity, if he made it out alive that is.
The wolf growled and snarled at him revealing its huge canines, its muzzle and teeth slightly stained with blood. He knew it, he, was injured that's why he was here, but he also knew that an injured wolf is more dangerous. So he did the only thing he could think of, he rummaged through the burnt shell of a home finding any scrap of material or blankets before heading back to the wolf and setting on to the floor waiting for one of two things happened, the wolf would kill him, or eventually give in and accept help.
It's just the waiting might kill him first.
A little note..
first off thanks for reading this, second sorry for any mistakes I may have made and the title, I couldn't really think of one so im going with this for now, finally I don't write much, I'm more the reading type so who knows if I will write any more, I might do if people want me to I guess but hey-ho who knows.
Thanks!