Werewolf

The dream and subsequent events all actually occurred:

Halloween.

The werewolf that hunts the area has been killing from the abundance of party-goers this night, the sheep who roam unsuspecting as if this night was a holiday. Of course, how can they, senses deadened, know the silent death that lurks in the darkness. I can sense it in every flicker of the clouded moon, taste it in every breath, hear it in the tortured howling of the wind. The werewolf seeks to take me as well, I know, though I will prove a more dangerous quarry.

My brother and mother must pass out through the halloween masses, for what reason I know and care not, in truth. I would not accompany them, preferring to stay locked inside the house. I am downstairs trying to dissuade them from leaving when the banging at the glass doors of the stone patio begins, and I am certain that it has found me already, before the night has even reached it's height.

An instant later, however, I know it to be only a man in a werewolf suit and a bad rubber were-wolf mask. My brother opens the glass door to chase off the drunk, an act that makes me wince at it's foolishness, for I know the truth of what lurks outside, though my knowledge remains unrevealed. To speed the process, I aid the attack upon the stumbling, drunken intruder.

Once he is gone, they continue to leave, despite my entreaties and warnings, cryptic and vague. I cannot let them know too much, lest the questions that would follow reveal more than I would tell. Foolish as I am, I finally cave in and decide that I cannot let them wander the darkness without my protection. I enter the waiting, watching night.

I accompany them past the danger, until there is no purpose in following further.

When I finally begin to return home, passing, as I must, through the area that I know holds it's lair, the artificial orange glow of the street-lights show only deserted street and darkened buildings, all both familiar and alien in this night. I hope that it has already gorged itself, and thus will not challenge me this night.

The were emerges from the old, grey shack in the distance and it is upon me within moments. It's massive, black-furred body joins fluidly with the shadows, leaving only it's glowing crimson eyes, and snarling, grey-scarred muzzle, filled with gleaming teeth, visible in the darkness.

It stares at me savagely, eyes lit with a burning recognition. It would take too long for me to change, giving it enough time to tear me to bits, so I seek a tool in my bag, a sharp stick, a sword, but there is nothing, and, of course, I carry no silver. I set myself in a prepared stance and wait. The wolf hesitates, weighing the danger for a moment, then lunges.

[Dream ends]

I wake. The sound of long canine toenails clicking on the floor outside of my door, however, refuses to fade.