The shadow. There it is again. Fuck! You thought you had lost it after running from the accursed property as fast as your legs could carry you. Now your lungs are burning and your heart is pounding in your ears like it is ready to explode any second. You are so exhausted, you are ready to drop on the spot. But you cannot stop running or it will catch up with you. The nameless, shapeless horror. This eery black thing that has been stalking you all the way from the old, abandoned mansion. How you wish the night was already over, that the first rays of morning sunlight would make the shadow disappear, but it is not long past midnight yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Will you still be alive by the end of the night, or is the shadow going to get you? Will you die here, just because of this stupid, stupid bet?

You should have known from the start that it was a bad idea, a very bad one. How could you be so foolish? Well, you desperately need the money, that's for sure. But no amount of money in the world is worth dying for. There is still so much you want to see, to do. You have no way lived long enough to end up eaten by a ghoul or ripped apart by a demon or whatever this shadowy monster is. At first you thought it was just a trick of the moon light or a figment of your imagination. However, you feel it in your heart that it is real, that it is coming for you. So you run on along the lonely path through the woods, the black blossom you picked from the overgrown rose garden in front of the mansion all but forgotten in your hand. The token of your bravery, and of your foolishness. But who could have anticipated that the old wives' tales about the haunted mansion in the forest are true? Nobody in their right mind could seriously believe their stories about the monsters dwelling there, the shadows that would come alive every full moon night to have a jamboree and feast on the blood of innocent virgins. Well, the part about the big party is not true, you can tell them that if you get out of here alive. There was nothing there to indicate any festivities going on on the neglected property. And you are not a virgin, no. Unfortunately, the shadow does not seem to be bothered by that little detail.

You throw another quick backwards glance across your shoulder. Gods, there, between the trees. Another one! In the silvery light of the full moon, you can see the two flitting from one tree trunk to the next, coming closer and closer. What will they do when they finally catch up with you? Freeze your heart? Suck you dry? Devour you in one big gulp, clothes, shoes, hair and all? Or will you simply go crazy from fear and rip your own arteries out with your teeth? You shudder at the thought. No, you do not want to die tonight. Please! Gods! Help! Your screams echo through the night. Why is there nobody to help you?

All of a sudden, you stumble over a tree root that grows across the path. Fuck! You fall. Hot pain shoots up your ankle. You cry out and tears start to your eyes. Damn, now you are done for. Desperate, you try to get back on your feet, but you know there is no way you will be able to make it back home, back to safety. Your ankle must be sprained or broken. You are stuck all alone in the middle of the wood with not only one, but two deadly monsters. Here, you will die a most grisly, lonely death and nobody will ever hear of you again. Not even your bones will be found. Now the tears are falling, tears of pain and utter desperation. And fear, a bottomless fear that takes your breath away, freezes your blood in your veins and almost makes your heart stop. You begin to shake uncontrollably as the black shadows peel away from the dark tree trunks and slowly glide towards you. Knowing you cannot get away, cannot escape for the dear life of you, they take their time, revelling in your rising panic. Now you see two pairs of crimson eyes glowing in the blackness of the shadows. The creatures come to a halt not ten metres away from you and open their terrible maws. They howl at the moon, their enormous, pointed fangs dripping with silvery strands of saliva. You stare at the huge monsters, paralysed with fright. Two giant wolves standing on two legs like a man. Werewolves, they must be werewolves. And they are here to eat you.

Suddenly, the beasts turn their heads away from you. Something seems to distract them. Then you hear it, too. Hoofbeats. Gods above, somebody is coming! But who? Will they be able to help you? Will they even want to help you? Who on earth could possibly aid you against two werewolves anyway? Only a very powerful mage, or, perhaps, the legendary White Wolf from the ballads. What are the odds it is him? Non-existing. Most probably, the single rider that you can see in the distance is a thief or bandit who has to flee from the bailiff, or a drunkard who has gotten lost on his way home from the tavern. Who else would ride along this remote forest track in the middle of the night?

The rider is approaching fast. A man clad all in black on a black horse. He must be galloping despite the darkness of the night. His black cloak billows behind him like the wings of a giant bat. Then you see something silvery glinting in the light of the moon. The blade of a sword in his hand. Your heart skips a beat, this time not from fear, but from joy. He is here to save you! He must have heard your cries for help! But will he stand a chance, one against two werewolves?

A sudden howl from behind you makes your blood run cold. You do not need to turn around to know what it is. A third monster. Fuck! It is still some distance away, but it will be a question of mere minutes until it joins the other two. No matter how good the rider is with his sword, he is hopelessly outnumbered. And you are not a fighter. You carry a knife with you, yes, but mostly to cut flowers or mushrooms, not to do any fighting. And definitely not to kill werewolves! What could you achieve with a simple kitchen knife against a horrible beast like this anyway? You see a stone and grab it instead just to hold something hard and angular in your hand.

The rider, however, does not seem to be perturbed by the unfavourable odds. Instead of reining in his horse, turning around and fleeing from the beasts as fast as his horse can gallop, he heads straight for the monstrous man-wolves, sword at the ready. Roaring menacingly, the werewoves leap at him, their initial prey all but forgotten. Your stare at the scene unfolding before your terrified eyes, transfixed to the spot. His blade swishes through the air, a bright flash of silver in the darkness of the night. Within seconds, blood spouts from the severed neck of the first monster. Its headless body crumples to the ground while the head with the wide open maw drops heavily into the grass a few metres away. Then, with a blood-curdling roar, the second beast is upon him. His black stallion rears high into the air, prancing and kicking and throwing his rider. With his front hoof, the frightened animal hits the werewolf square in the furry face. The monster howls, backs away for a moment, then attacks the horse once more. The rider has already sprung to his feet and, swift as a panther, leaps at the beast. The horse runs off into the woods. With another roar, the werewolf swivels around and faces the man, its sharp claws whirling through the air. With incredible speed, the man ducks and rolls out of harm's way. He is back on his feet before you can even blink, sinking his sword into the monster's side. Wounded, it howls with agony and anger, slashing at the man wildly. He, however, evades the blows of the deadly claws and stabs at the beast's belly. Blood shoots from its guts, but the monster does not stumble nor retreat, the contrary. It bares its teeth and jumps at the man. He is pushed backward and falls from the impact, the beast's huge paws on his chest, its ugly, saliva-dripping maw looming above his face. You cry out with shock. This is it, the beast is going to kill him, and then it will be your turn to die! But the werewolf does not sink its fangs into the man's neck. Blood gushes from the monster's throat instead and the man rolls to the side just in time not to be buried under the collapsing beast. Quickly, he stands up, pulls his sword out of the werewolf's neck, then brings down the keen silver blade and chops its head off. You breathe a sigh of relief. Then you see it.

"Watch out!" you cry as the third werewolf leaps from between the trees and charges at him. This time, the man is not quite fast enough to duck out of the claws' reach. You hear a grunt of pain and see his leg give way. Shit! Without thinking, you hurl the stone that you are still clutching in your hand. It hits the beast between the shoulders just as it bends down to sink its fangs into the man's throat. It cannot really have hurt the beast, however, it raises its shaggy head and turns around growling and glaring at you from glowing eyes.