The laundromat window shattered outwards. Glass sprayed across the sidewalk as something huge and brown and yellow slammed
into the parking lot with a roar. Both boys bolted, stumbled, fell off the end of the sidewalk and onto the uneven pavement
of the alley access lane.
There was no mistaking the creature in the middle of the laundromat parking spot. Full moon or
not, the werewolf had come for them. It was crouched on all fours where it had landed, sniffing the air. A bright yellow
bowling shirt stretched tight over its bulk, ripped at the shoulder seams and tufted with brown fur. It was half turned away
from them, and they could make out the logo on the back: “Sunset Plaza Strikers”. Below that, in cursive embroidery, was
the name “Melvin”.
Ron’s palms were scraped raw on the pavement, but the pain felt very far away as he sat up. He didn’t
even feel surprised. This was real. Of course it was. How or why didn’t matter.
Read the rest in WEREWOLVES VERSUS: THE 1990s. Download the entire issue for any price (including free) here, and explore the entire WEREWOLVES VERSUS catalogue here.
