The Werewolves of Millers Hollow: A very short story.

The following is a dramatic retelling of a game of Werewolf we played, at the Gelatinous Dudes Game Day last weekend. We had a great time. Enjoy! (Hit the jump for the story!)

It was a cold dark evening as the remaining villagers gathered. Only a few of their number remained. The vile beasts' hunger was ferocious and insatiable. For weeks the people of New Haven woke up each morning hoping that they would not find another grisly scene left by the monstrous things plaguing them. One of the beasts, wearing the guise of the village smith Shaun, had finally been discovered by the elder of the brothers Perry. Sadly, much too late.

Poor Benjamin had made the mistake of accusing the village of being too liberal in their accusations. His protest only drew the ire of the crowd. His feet dangled that very evening. The third elected Sheriff (there had been many elections that season) made his accusation against Jason. (There had been much speculation as to an incident involving the good Sheriff's daughter a couple of years prior.) Despite the obvious personal vendetta being enacted by the Sheriff, Jason could not escape his fate.

On this wretched evening only four remained that had not fled or perished. The Brothers Perry, (being Tylor and Conor, Conor the younger being the newly elected Sheriff) The Young Girl Genevieve, and the Terry the village Mayor.

The brothers, being close, did not suspect one another of being the creature. Tylor had decided that Genevieve had acted strangely during the trial of the smith. She had been too sorrowful, and her reluctance to leave was also suspicious. She was put to trial, and when it was decided, the three last men put themselves to the grisly task of setting her to the tree.

"Finally we may bid the others return," Conor said to his sibling, as they gazed upon the macabre decorations adorning the tree.

"Yes we must make preparations post-haste!" replied the other Perry. Whether it was exhaustion or relief neither brother noticed the beast that was once Terry until it was far too late. A chorus of two voices rose in the air. One of the deranged predator, the other a twisted cry of the prey. The monster's blood lust was horrific as it mauled Conor.

Tylor was dumbstruck, but for only a second. He knew it was already too late for his kin, even if Conor was to survive, he would become one of the hellspawn they had been hunting down. Tylor raised his hunting rifle, the last rifle left to the village, and aimed it upon the beast.

BANG


It was finally dead. The villagers would come to rejoice, and this day would become one of celebration. Children would run through the streets playing hunter and wolf. There would be feasting and many cups raised to those who had finally stopped the blight of the land. At the days' end mothers would tell their children about the valiant men and women who finally flushed out the vile Wolf-Men and how justice had won the day... but that would come later. For now, there was just a numb silence enveloping the last man standing.