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Beneath a Winter Moon
By Shawson M Hebert
Send Inquiries to: Winter Moon Publishing, 9230 Garland Street, Lincoln, NE 68505
Or: Email inquiries to winter.moon.publishing@gmail.com   
Copyright Winter Moon Publishing and Shawson Hebert • Lincoln, NE • All Rights Reserved
What the hell was that?” Delmar asked softly, instinctively being as quiet as possible.
The strange howl was abnormal….strange…wolf-like but not—the howl was just wrong.
“Steven,” Jenny whispered, “Please tell me you know what that was…”
“Yes, Steven,” Thomas said dryly, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking. “Tell us that you’ve heard that sound before.” His mind wandered through childhood memories—narrowing to a winter in Louisiana when he was just eleven years old. The howl called up memories of another hunt…one that he could never forget and before Steven could reply, he said, “I think I might have heard something like this before, when I was a kid.”
“Okay, we got that. Now, calm down for a second. The wolf…whatever…it’s gone now.”
“You don’t know that—and you think those tracks are simply wolf tracks? You ever seen a wolf with a six-inch human heel attached to it?”
Alan looked up at Travis as if the man had lost his mind. “Human heel print? Are you crazy, Travis? Are you suggesting that this was a man?”
Travis shook his head as he backed away toward the exit. “Uh uh. I’m not suggesting it was a man.”
Finally, after a horrendous hand filled with razor-sharp claws tore the heart from his chest, the constable fell to his knees and collapsed.
His face pushed into cold, damp fur and the last thought that he had was whether or not the stench that he smelled was coming from the thing that attacked him or from his own intestines as they were torn from him.
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