WerewolvesAtHeart

All filmmakers must die. Especially the ones who think it’s a good idea to make a movie about werewolves. I hate to say it, but most werewolf films suck, and not because they show us as mindless, man-eating monsters - there are some of us who are like that.  I’m like that myself, actually, on a few occasions, when it’s necessary.  No, the reason most werewolf films suck is because the makers have no idea what a good story is.  They either have a plot full of holes, characters so bland and underdeveloped they don’t exist in the third dimension, or even worse, both. This doesn’t bother my little sister Pam.  Sh

[Caution: This story was refitted to fit WerewolvesAtHeart's PG-13 language standard.  Enjoy!]        In Orion, there is no shame in becoming the thing you were designed to hunt.  Not only does Orion accept the fact that their hunters could become infected, they embraced the fact of it happening in the early fifties, way before I was born.  The way it happened for me was a job gone wrong.          In Orion, you are one of four things.  You are a Templar, a Cleric, an Inquisitor, or a Wild Card.  Templars are the SWAT team of the agency.  If you have just one Templar after you, you better expect a good fight.  A Cleric is someone that resid

Finn laid his head on the cement of the cellar floor, closing his eyes in gratitude. Four days over ninety degrees, and the basement was the only bearable place in the whole house. He couldn't imagine what it would be like that night, when the moon rose. Fur. So much damned fur. Lila said she'd never met such a hairy 'wolf. Rolling on his back, he tried to visualize snow. A wide, white field, with fluffy, fat flakes drifting down out of a gray sky. Maybe a little creek running through the middle, crusted over with ice. A girl in a red cloak, walking through knee-deep drifts... Hrm. It was no use; every time he tried to forget about her, the

This is how we prepare for winter in werewolf country: by lighting all the torches on the ramparts around the encampment, because werewolves fear fire, and so that we can see them when they come skulking in the dead of night. Sometimes, beneath the flames, we see the werewolves in our midst, the ones standing beside us. This makes the winter longer, and darker. * This is how we prepare for winter in the forest outside the camp: by catching rabbits and deer and possum, and roasting them on spits on our little fires, which we keep small so that the village will not see the smoke. If they locate us, they will come with guns and silver shrapnel

What am I doing here? I'm here for animal testing. I really thought I was done with it, but it seems to be my fate now. It all began a year ago innocently enough. You see, when you live in the city with the highest dog per captia in the world, you need to either learn how to live with them, or move away. Now, I didn't personally have a problem with canines, but they seemed to not like my scent or something. Every dog who noticed me would either snarl or cower in fear. I've been chased up a tree on more than one occasion. Other than that, this is a nice place to live. I really didn't want to move away, so when a research opportunity came to s

Chris cleaned his sneakers off on the Brewtons’ doormat as he waited to be let inside.  He wondered if all werewolf families had the same “Wipe Your Paws!” doormat at their homes or just the ones he knew.  Soon enough, the door opened and Mr. Brewton waved him inside. “Hey there!  You’re just in time,” Mr. Brewton said. “We were worried it’d take you a bit longer to get here.” “No worries Mr. B!” Chris replied as he set his duffle bag down in the foyer and kicked off his shoes. “I took the Yamaha so I wouldn’t have to pedal all the way over.” Mrs. Brewton g

  With every mile put between her and the city, Wind felt more and more peaceful.  If her stress were a wool sweater, it was as if a thread was stuck somewhere in the city and the further she traveled, the more the sweater came undone.  Of course cities had their benefits, but the bustling holiday season could be taxing for most people, let alone a werewolf.  Needless to say, a break from the commotion was definitely needed. Dressed snuggly, Wind stared out the passenger’s side window and idly sipped a can of Dr. Pepper.  Pure snow blanketed the hills, trees, and mountains for miles in all directions as she smiled to herself.  She shar