Hello again, Story Club members. I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with The Most and keeper of the

strangest, spookiest tales on earth. Today is another Ivy's chilling tale. This hairy tale

story club members might make you not want to stay outside after dark.

It's one I call the Midnight Werewolf.

The Man Beast snarled and roamed the quiet residential street.

Rowan Morrison couldn't believe what he saw and he was too afraid to move or even breathe he'd been heading home

from the park where he was playing with his friends brett and easton it was six o'clock and the sun

had gone down the january full moon known as the wolf's moon was already rising into the night sky

round and pale like a skull riding his bike home rowan thought he'd hurt a wolf's howl.

But that's crazy, right?

There weren't any wolves close by.

Wolves roamed the east in the snow-capped mountains, at least 50 miles away from where he lived.

Yeah, there wasn't occasional coyote he'd hear yipping in the night, but coyotes were a far cry from what Rowan was looking at right now, a tall hunched over figure prowling through the quiet street.

The creature resembled pictures of gray timber wolves he'd seen, but this one was walking on two legs, and it was wearing ripped jeans and a red and black flannel shirt,

which was also frayed.

It's like the wolf had grown too large for its clothes.

So that means it must have been a person at one time, right?

But Rowan reasoned with himself, werewolves don't exist.

They were only in movies and books only,

not in the real world. Not here, not now. Still, Rowan couldn't rationalize what he saw on the street

as plain as the bitter winter chill in the air. This was a werewolf on the prowl.

Rowan had carefully, quietly set his bicycle down. Now he was a werewolf on the prowl. Rowan had carefully, quietly set his bicycle down.

...