I Was Attacked By A Werewolf: The True Story

Yesterday, I was attacked by a werewolf. Honest to gosh, it happened. I couldn’t get to sleep last night, so I decided to go for a walk to tire myself out. I crawled out of bed, put some clothes on and headed out the front door, making sure to leave it unlocked so I could get back in without having to carry my keys.

I ambled up the street, humming along to myself so there wasn’t complete silence. I was about 100m away from my house and walking past the park when I heard a strange noise. I stopped walking and looked toward the park, trying to figure out what I was hearing. It was a kind of snorting noise, like the sound a pig makes while it’s sniffing around in the dirt.

Naturally, I assumed it was a pig. Sure, we don’t really have pigs around my neighbourhood, but maybe someone kept it as a pet and it escaped into the night because the owners weren’t treating it right. It happens more frequently than you’d think, so stop your scoffing. So anyway, as I was sure it was a pig, I went over to try and make friends. You can never have too many friends, you know.

I peered around the bushes in the park, trying to locate said pig and softly cooing, “Here little darling. Come hereeeeee.” I was about to give up the search when something came rushing out of the bushes and bowled me over. I let out an “oh!” as my head connected with the ground. On top of me was a werewolf. A real, honest to gosh WEREWOLF. It was covered in hair, smelled of a strange mix of bundy rum, perspiration and stale cigarettes and was breathing heavily on my face.

I screamed for my life, which seemed to throw the werewolf off for a moment, which gave me the opportunity to push it off and scramble to my feet. I bolted, but the werewolf had recovered enough by then to be following closely. I was just about at my front gate when a piercing pain shot through my neck and blood spurted everywhere. I continued running until I reached my gate, threw it open and sprinted to the front door where I pulled it open, ran inside and slammed it in the werewolf’s face.

I could hear it scratching at the door, so I stood there for half an hour until I knew it was gone and then went to look at my bite. It was horrendous. There were chunks of flesh missing, blood drying all around it and tendons visible. I bandaged it up and went off to bed. This morning when I woke up, I had hair on my knuckles, and my hands seem to have turned into claws, but when I told mum about it she just said it was a growth spurt, so I’m pretty sure I’m not going to turn into a werewolf which is always a plus.

Look, I even have a picture of the bite.

I was attacked by a werewolf. TRUE FACT!

It was a painful and emotionally draining experience, but you know, I think I’m a better person because of it. This morning I even skipped to work instead of driving, and gave money to a homeless man that was begging in my street. Come to think of it, that man looked and SMELT a lot like that werewolf...

Huh. I'm sure it's a coincidence.