• PART ONE
    One day a boy called Jonathan Way was with his friends when he was suddenly attcked by a werewolf. The wolf, a brown and white color, was as strong as medal and as soft as tigers fur. Jonathan had been slammed against the wall and could feel a sharp pain in the back of his head. "Hey!" his friend, Marcus shouted but was also thrown. But he had been tossed to what looked like another werewolf.
    Jonathan half stumbling, stood up and rubbed his head. Something warm and wet was on his fingers. "Blood...." he said. He blinked and took off. His blck shoes hit the ground with a splash and a spalt as he ran on the water that had spilled from his friend. Were they dead? No, he thought, they can't be. He couldn't think about that anymore. No. They just couldn't. He heard something behind him. Then, he was tackled and thrown to the ground. He felt a sharp pain on his arm. Blood ran down his arm, and a werewolf was sitting on top off him, teeth diging in his arm. "AHHH!" he screamed. He threw a punch.
    One.
    Two.
    Three.
    Four.
    Nothing was stoping the wolf. He gave up, he might as well just die. But before he could even give up, he saw the wolf fly off him, and howl in pain. "Awwww....what's wrong little wolffy, hurt?" came a girls voice, teasingly. He tried to turn his head, but the pain in his arm throbed. He closed his eyes, and let the dark cover him.
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    TO BE CONTINUED.......