"It's a full moon tonight, Brendan."

"What's that gotta do with anything? You scared, A?"

On the night of Halloween, a group of young teenagers, who cared little for the monotony and childish boredom of 'trick or treating', decided they'd waste away the evening in the more shadier parts of town. Their parents assumed they were out with their siblings, helping them collecting their candy. In truth, they had ditched them long ago.

There were 5 of them, in particular, all seated in the town's local graveyard. They sat on the far side, where the trees encroached on the plot of land and gave them a considerable overhang to hide under, should the police be looking for them. An eerie fog had begun to set in over the hills beyond and rolled its way down to the bed of corpses and coffins that lay just underneath the surface. The majority of the teenagers didn't care. One of them, however, was a little anxious.

"I mean, y'know, what if the stories had always been true, and werewolves and ghosts n' shit actually exist?" He was a nerdy boy, but he was their friend. The tremor in his voice showed his fear, but the other teens just laughed it off. With them sat a small box, brimming with ice and containing a substantial amount of alcohol. They've already gone through a couple of bottles each, and it wasn't even midnight yet.

Amongst the 5 of them sat two unknown boys, obscured in darkness from various shades. The teens knew them as simply A and B.

As they sat and drank and talked, they heard a sudden noise. Off into the distance, a howl echoed, it's sound carrying towards the graveyard. The young nerdy boy let out a quivering whimper and tucked his knees up against his chest, and the teens bellowed with laughter at the sight.

"Holy shit, Peter, it's just someone fucking with us. Don't piss your pants!"

The leader of their group, Brendan, took a hearty swig of his drink and set the bottle down, his tail flicking against the ground. He was a Hyena with an indomitable personality, a confidence that seemed to have no limit, and a fierce loyalty for his friends and followers. It was usually him that arranged their little plans, but always kept them in line. They were rebellious teenagers and not delinquents, after all.	

The howl came out again and the leader of their group simply chuckle, peering out from the gravestone he was leaning on and peeking up towards the hill. He squinted his eyes, but he couldn't see anything, not even a silhouette of a wolf. He could only assume someone really was screwing with them, trying to scare them. He guessed it might be the high school in the town over. They were notorious for pulling stupid pranks.

"Don't worry about it," He assured them with a wide grin. "I'm pretty sure we'll be just f--"

A hand clasped his shoulder, long claws curling against the fabric and gripping tight. His eyes widened in surprise and the other teens gawked at the sight, before he was suddenly yanked up, pulled over the gravestone. He screamed out for help and was dragged off into the darkness, around the trees not too far from where they sat. Now they wished they hadn't picked the darker spot on the edge of the cemetery.

The nerdy boy screamed and went pale, scrabbling to his feet. He turned tail and ran, tripping over various things and he ran in the exact opposite direction of where Brendan had just been taken. The other teens stared, bug-eyed, into the darkness. Red eyes stared back at them. At once, they moved.

The 4 of them ran across the graveyard, the blood pounding in their ears, their hearts hammering inside their chest. They could hear snarls and growls behind them, the noises growing steadily closer. One of the teens turned to see what was happening, and that was his mistake. Whatever was behind them lunged and grabbed him. They heard his scream as he was dragged off into the night.

Now, it was just A, B, and Peter. The nerdy boy was particularly smart: he had already ducked into the street and was making a beeline for the masses doing their trick or treating. He knew that, should these creatures be following them, that there was safety in numbers. A and B, however, were fools.

They circled the graveyard and they tried to calculate a possible way out, and inevitably ended up running up the hill at the edge of the graveyard. The steep incline made it difficult for them to ascend, but whatever was behind them had no trouble making its way up, and it closed in one them. 

Both of them felt a mass on their back, suddenly pushing them down. The grass underneath them whirled as they were suddenly dragged by the ankle back down the hill and into the darkness of the woods near the graveyard itself. They could hear the echoing screams of their friends that slowly began to subside, and they potentially feared the worst.

Suddenly, they stopped. Whatever had grabbed them let go of their legs, and they rolled onto their backs, laying next to one-another. Their gawked at the sight of red eyes above them, snarling and snapping teeth and shaggy black fur. 

Peter was right. It was werewolves. They didn't even know what would happen to them, but their hesitation to gut their bellies was concerning. Instead, they just stared, noses twitching.

What were they going to do?