Young Larry Bright was walking around in the woods behind his small, humble cabin in the High Uintahs mountain range. It had been a sunny, peaceful afternoon when he departed on his four-wheeler, but it soon turned dark and before long he realized he forgot to fill up on gas, and was all out.

“Shoot!” Larry exclaimed out loud. “What am I gonna do now?” Larry was at least 15 miles from his cabin now and it was getting two dark to see. Before Larry could start cussing, he heard a strange sound off in the distance.

“Owwwwwww.” A wolf was howling. “Oooowwwoooooooo.” The sound was chilling to the bone. Larry’s bones were definitely chilled. It was then Larry remembered: it was a full moon tonight. No light shone through the thick mess of trees overhead, though. It was black as pitch. Larry got frightened and made up his mind to try to find his way back home in the dark… …on foot. It was a dangerous thing to do, but Larry had made up his mind. He started to retrace his steps.

Wolfhook tore down the mountain at lightning speeds. He had a mad look in his one good eye. Sharp pains shot up through the bloody stump where one of his hooks used to be. Wolfhook hadn’t had a meal last full moon, having been injured by a certain Susan Crawford. Wolfhook was out for revenge tonight. On something, anything that bled. Wolfhook came to an abrupt halt and sniffed the air, trying to detect his prey. Wolfhook heard a rustling in the trees. He followed it to a small dark tent. Heavy breathing could be heard from within. It wasn’t long before Wolfhook had slashed open the vinyl fibers and devoured his victim’s intestines. He dragged the corpse for miles and finally propped it up against the tree inside his own evil lair. That will do nicely for an appetizer, he thought, and set off to seek his original victim. He let out another loud howl and sprang off in the direction of the putrid human scent. Miraculously, the old man Wolfhook had gutted out survived long enough to drag himself about a hundred feet before he finally bled to death.

Larry wondered if he’d ever make it home. He was becoming increasingly tired, and his pace got slower with each step. Soon his feet began to drag to the point where he tripped so much over rocks and roots, he had to quit. Larry sat down and rested against a tree. As soon as his back hit the barky surface of the trunk of the tree, his shirt became dampened and a thick syrupy liquid seeped in and soaked the cloth. Larry scooped some of the liquid up on his finger and tasted it. It was blood. Memories of the horrifying legend of Wolfhook told to Larry by his crazy grandmother came flashing back. Larry noticed there was a trail of blood leading to the tree. Crawling on his hands and knees, he followed it. The trail finally ended a hundred or so feet away at a bloody and mutilated corpse, infested with maggots. The sight was repulsive. Larry tried to suppress the heaving, but the vomit came and wouldn’t stop. Wolfhook had been here.

Wolfhook could feel himself drawing nearer to the scent of humans. Then all at once a clearing opened up, a dark wooden cabin in the middle. Wolfhook slashed through the front door and stealthily moved about the house. He searched every room and found nothing. Wolfhook was furious, he began to slash at the walls, howling and howling, almost screaming. He ripped up the beds and put his hook through random windows throughout the house. Wolfhook vowed he would find this human yet, but it would have to wait until another full moon, for the sun was almost rising. Wolfhook returned to his lair.

Larry knew he had to get out of there and quick, he began to run fast like a really fast runner. He didn’t make it too far though, after all, no one who ever entered Wolfhook’s lair ever did. Wolfhook intercepted Larry on the trail. A glint of bloodthirstiness still glinted in Wolfhook’s eyes. Larry sank to his knees and began to weep like a child.

“No, no, noooooo!!!” Larry began to scream at first, but soon his cries were muffled under Wolfhook’s heavy fur coat. Wolfhook slashed open Larry’s stomach, exposing all his internal organs. Wolfhook wretched Larry’s entire digestive system out, viciously shredding it into bite size pieces and slurping up the liquids. A kidney, a pancreas, pieces of stomach wall, some rectum tissue, and various other ‘parts’ of Larry lie scattered across the ground. Wolfhook continued devouring Larry to the point of no recognition. Wolfhook clawed at Larry’s face and shoulders, then ripped off Larry’s limbs one by one, each with a single hook-swipe. Wolfhook’s lair was a sickening mess, just the way he liked it. Wolfhook crawled into his cave and lie down to rest until the next full moon.

Something glinted in little Susan Crawford’s closet. She crawled out of bed to see what it was. Slowly she opened her closet a crack further. A mysterious object rolled off her shelf, and clattered on the hardwood bedroom floor. It was the hook.

“But, but, how did that get there, I…” Susan stuttered, then she realized she was doomed to die. “NOOOOO!”