As luck would have it, the first night of the full moon was Halloween. The whole pack knew that we had to protect the town at all costs. Thank goodness, Mr. Wilson was out of town. Although we had no idea where he went, there would be less murders this month, if he was indeed a werewolf. However, the month before, three of the weekend warriors were unaccounted for, so there may be a chance that they, too, were werewolves, adding to the numbers... unless they were dead, and their bodies never found. The worst part was the people that turn are oftentimes unaware that they are werewolves, making them victims, as well.
"Good morning, Dad," I said, coming down the stairs Sunday morning.
Dad was dressed in his detective uniform, ready for work. "Morning, Jess."
I gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"How did you sleep?" he asked between bites of his cereal and reading the paper.
