It was the year 1878. For centuries, the town you lived in told the story of a cent curse casted by a witch. That werewolf’s would forever live in your town, feasting upon the people that lived there. Most people in the town didn’t believe them, and found them to be folktales. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

You were at the young age of 24, and worked at a saloon. You did well for yourself, and even got yourself a nice respectable boyfriend. He worked at a newspaper company, and made quite a bit of money. The two of you being a perfect couple.

One day, while the two of you were walking home from a nice dinner, got stopped by a robber. He held a knife out at you, and demanded your bag, even cut your arm. When you got cut, you heard a low growl escape your boyfriend. As you turned to him, you watched as he skin rapidly grew hair, and he moved to all fours. A werewolf. Neither you or the robber could move.

You watched as your boyfriend tore the robber apart, and slowly shift back to normal. He immediately turned to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Are you alright, baby?”