Angelo and I decide to find a place to lie low for the night and get some rest while we figure out what we're going to do next. We know we can’t return to Angelo's home, that’s the first place they’ll look for us when they realize we've escaped.
So we quietly rush to his house and grab a few supplies. Food, blankets, and a few odds and ends. Then we silently slink to the edge of town where Angelo leads me to an old, abandoned shack that’s covered in a thick layer of dirt and cobwebs. The roof is sloping badly to one side, and the wood is rotted around the edges.
“A werewolf used to live here,” he explains as he pushes the door open with a low, ominous creak. “He was very kind, actually. He would hunt at night, only animals of course, and then he would give the meat to families who were
