Your village knows all about the beast, they fear him. Every full moon farmers lock away their animal, towns folk lock up there house, everyone hides. That’s because every full moon who they call the “beast” comes.

Your gut hurts as your sprinting home, the sun is setting and the moon is slowly creeping up. Full. Your legs hurt as you gasp for air. As you see your house in view your mother shutting the door- “Mom!-“ the street lights pop on. To late. You hear the sound of footsteps-