Joe GreyFoot.
It was a cold February evening in Augusta, Maine. The town was quiet and ghostly. All the streets were empty, and no children were out playing in the snow. But some teens, of course, had to be out drinking and driving after seeing a movie at the local theater. The designated driver was the most inebriated out of them all, and he kept spilling beer on himself as he unsafely sped up the road towards the mountains. When out in the middle of the road, they saw something terrible. A huge, black mass of fur. The car spun out of control and off of the road. The car knocked over trees and spun into a frozen marsh. Two of the kids were already dead, but three were still alive. One girl laid with a broken arm up the road a bit. A young man was groaning leaning on the shotgun seat of the car. And the driver's face was smashed up against the windshield. Looking through the blood, the young man groaned in pain when he heard the girl's screams. It was his girlfriend, Amy. Looking in the rear view mirror, the young man saw the mass was tearing the young woman to shreds. It was... eating her.
"What the fuck is that?!" he cried out. "Kyle! Kyle! Get the hell up--" But he never finished his cry. The wolf was upon him. The only sounds besides the screams of the driver, and the feasting of the beast, was an owl howling into the cold night wind. Deeper into the woods, other creatures lurked... not just other wolves... but darker, more ancient beings.
Finishing off his meal, the werewolf heard from the sound of another killing happening a mile away. Rushing towards it, the wolf found the body of the dead. As the wolf was smelling it, he soon it discovered bite marks. Terribly deep ones. The wolf hated vampires. It soon became angry, and howled out. The howl was long and echoed throughout the woods, followed by a crack of lightning from the incoming storm. The mountains were not safe, and probably riddled with wicked creatures, but this one wolf feared nothing. It was the hunter. And that was that. It ran off into the night. By tomorrow, Joe Greyfoot would become himself again. Hidden away, in his Human Shell.
Joe GreyFoot was a werewolf. Not just a werewolf, but THE werewolf. The only one left of his kind. As he usually did he city prowl every full moon, he finished off the teens from the car accident. Not feeling one bit of guilt on his darkened conscious. He waited until dawn when he would return to his natural self. His human self. The human being he dreamed about becoming after his father had turned him into a werewolf. After they all mysteriously vanished, all of his family, Joe was alone. And has been for over 13 decades.He grew tired of being a werewolf, and even tried suicide. But nothing worked. The only thing that was strong enough to kill a werewolf, was a vampire. But Alas, Joe hadn't seen a vampire in years after an encounter with a male vampire, whom he saw as he was searching for his family in Alaska. Though, on sight, Joe had ripped his head off in one yank. He never looked back. And after years of searching for his parents, he finally gave up. And came up with the conclusion that they must have been dead. And that the vampires must have destroyed them. Which made him loath vampire even more than he already did .
He then found a spot in the woods, where he couldn't go home looking like this, the forest was his home for the night. He let out a slick howl before laying by a tree, and drifting off into a deep slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Writers Note:
So as you can see, this new book of mine will be narrated from 2 different perspectives. I am writing this book on behave of my very close friend Ethan who committed suicide on July 15, 2012. He will always be in my heart. We would role play on this site called gaiaonline.com and we have been doing this role play for over 3 months and we never finished it. So in memory of him, i would like to enter this book in the Watty Awards in honor of Ethan. Thanks for reading my first chapter ! (:
-Editied by Sabrina Kelley.
