The scream pierced the air. It was not a happy scream like at a birthday party. It was a terrified scream. A scream of horror, like something out of a scary movie or worse. Lacy never thought that she would ever scream like she was screaming now but she was. She was facing her greatest fear, and she was losing. It was a horrible thing to be confronted with something that she had hoped to never, ever see, but she had little choice. Backed up against a wall with no where to go she stared the creature down. It was horrible. Hairy, with slits for eyes; a long snout and talon like claws. The werewolf let out a scream of its own and pounced.


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Filed under national novel writing month, write or die, writing prompt

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