It was over. It had to be over. I sat by the old oak tree, the one with the initials craved into it. I rocked back and forth, trying to come to grips with what had happened. They were all gone. Only I was left.

How could the had happen? The day had started normal, even dull. We had planned to go for a walk in the woods, have a few beers, and just generally goof off. The walk was just a three mile level jaunt, nothing strenuous. We stopped in the clearing, near the old shack, and cracked open the beers.

We laughed, we sang, we told stories. We stayed out until after the sunset, and then decided we should head home. In the distance, we heard a wolf howl. Strange, there were no wolves in this state, not for well over a century. Perhaps it was someone’s dog? It was the beer doing its work, but we decided to find this canine.

Tripping over roots, and laughing at out foolishness, we didn’t think about the danger until it was too late. Isn’t that always how these tales go? It happened so quickly, a flash of red, and claws. Joe was down, screaming in agony. His chest was ripped open, and we had no idea where the assistant was.

Another flash of red, and Susan’s throat was ripped out. At least she died instantly. I ran, coward that I am. Steve was following after me, telling me that I should stop and help Joe. But I knew we was gone.

I did eventually stop, and caught my breathe. Steve stopped near me, yelling at me. Another flash of red, and Steve was no more. I ran, tears streaming down my face.

At the old oak tree, I ran my fingers across the initials. I was calming down, trying to think of where to go next. The cops would mock me, no one would believe me.

I stood up, wrapped my arm around me, and looked down.

Huh.

Was I wearing this red hoodie before? Why were my fingernails cracked?

Another howl.

I smiled. And walked off.