Another Pack

Morning came quickly, but nobody had slept. Sitting, watching out the window for whatever killed grandpa everyone was tense. As daylight sprung they all went home and went to bed.

Ashers parents got the tractor out and buried grandpa. They decided they have a funeral later, right now they all needed sleep. The next full moon was already weighing on their minds. If whatever killed grandpa didn't pick them all off first, they'd have to decide on a new pack leader.

It was a somber moment picking up the pieces of grandpa and burying them.

Tom was so overburdened by emotion that he thought he might fall down and die right there.

It was an odd sight seeing a very hairy six foot four man with tears falling down his face as he cried.

Tom had a thin muscular build and wasn't considered in line for the position of head of the family. The position always went to the strongest mating pair in wolf form and remained their position until death. Single males and Females couldn't even compete. In a lot of human stories they read about alphas being the pack leaders. Werewolves would laugh this off knowing that such a thing doesn't exist.

As Tom was finishing up he noticed a large number of cars pulling onto his private road. Not wanting to be seen as weak, he took the long way back to his barn, while cleaning himself up.

Tom walked out of the barn and approached the motorcade. It was the first time Tom saw a Rolls Royce, let alone fifteen of them.

The drivers all positioned themselves. They were intimidating, large men wearing Black suits with their eyes covered in dark sunglasses. They opened the doors at the same time, with such precision that Tom thought they must've been practicing that for years. It was almost creepy.

Only one passenger got out. From the middle car, came out an old man. He was very muscular.

"Can I help You?" Tom asked as he walked up.

"That's close enough", one of the drivers said as he quickly pulled weapon. It was a beautiful sword with an all white blade that looked like the moon glowing in the night. The handle and scabbard were black as night and almost invisible in front of the cars and suits.

Tom didn't want to stop, but found he couldn't move towards the driver or the old man.

"What is this?" Tom asked "Are you sorcerer's?"

"My name? Asking me questions? Are you worthy to even speak to me? " the old man said "I'm looking for your family head, he wasn't home. Tell me where he is now, so that I can be off from this dreadful place?"

Tom was furious. He could feel his anger welling up inside him. If it was a full moon I'd rip his head off. The problem was that Tom still could only back away from the people.

"Grandpa is dead" Tom shouted "Now get off of my property before I force you off!"

"Put your sword away" the old man said to the driver, "I'll teach him manners myself!"

The old man walked forward slowly, having a limp in his left leg. He stopped and removed his jacket, turned handed it to his driver. Quickly the rest of his clothes came off and he turned.

'Turning without a full moon?' Tom's head was spinning. "I've never heard of a werewolf turning without a full moon! You must be a skin changer!" Tom shouted as he ran towards his house! His wife and most of his children (Missing Asher of coarse) were already inside the house with guns loaded. Theresa was sure that skin changers could be killed with regular bullets, truth be told, so could werewolves. their thick skin just made it seem like the bullets were ineffective.

Tom was almost at the house when the old man grabbed his ankle. The pain was almost unbearable. Pain shooting up his leg. Werewolves heal very quickly, unless bit by another werewolf or a vampire they say, but grandpa always said they don't exist.

Blood spurting out of his ankle, Tom let out a curdling scream. Theresa quickly shot at the old creature, but the bullets did nothing. There was no blood, the creature didn't flinch or make noise of pain. The old man let go of one ankle and tore into the other, shredding it. He then started to change back into human form. walking towards Theresa, she fired off three more rounds, seeing that they stuck into the skin, but didn't pierce. The old man hit her in the belly and she fell. As she was going down the old man looked at Tom and exclaimed, If this is what the Missouri pack has become, it's time I ended this packs line and the Ohio pack will claim it. Theresa heard this just before she lost consciousness, she was knocked out cold from a single punch.