At 2am, the moon shining brightly with a cloudless sky in May, Leroy Perry knocked at the door of my house in a frenzy. His hair was slightly messy, his clothes slightly torn, a claw mark on his chest, blood dripping and staining the clothes and his jeans. He had a scent of cigarettes and freshly cut grass.
He was promptly rushed to the hospital, after all I don’t want the house share’s front doormat getting stained with his blood. I’ll admit it was quite peculiar, I wasn’t even sure why he was awake at this hour.
It’s been a couple days since and Leroy has awoken. He called me to the bedside and told me what happened. How he had ended up in such a state that he was near death on my doorstep on that night.
The following is a slightly paraphrased version of what he claims are the events of May the 25th 2023.
It was 1am, he was sitting on the hill by the trees at Armley Park, his coat under him, and a can of Coors in his hand looking at the sky. It was a dark grey as it morphed from noon to night. The moon shone a luminescent white in the centre of the sky.
He took a sip of his beer can, and laid down to watch as the stars came out one by one.
The stench of alcohol was laced on his breath, and clearly it had caught the attention of some local wildlife. He laid there, in a relaxed trance, as there was a rustle from the woods behind him.
A scent of a bonfire, or perhaps a burnt out cigarette, clashed with the odour coming from his breath. He sat up, perhaps thinking of moving in case he had disturbed a fox’s den.
He turned around, facing the wilderness, and – illuminated by the moon – was a Wolf, a smokey grey colour with luminous yellow eyes. The light seemed to go through it, you could still make out the shrubbery directly behind it. The smoke moved, but stayed in the shape that resembled a wolf.
The yellow eyes widened, and stared directly at Leroy.
He started to back away, and it pounced going through his chest and pushing Leroy to the ground.
A gaping 3 claw cut was slashed across his chest, ripping his clothes and leaving him bleeding out on the hill.
He stumbled down the hill and out onto the streets of Leeds. He clutched his chest and made his way to the nearest house where he knew someone, which just so happened to be Aiden Foxx’s (mine), and you know the story from there.
The side effects of this attack still aren’t known but if anything comes up I will inform you readers.
Celestial Publishing 