Curse of the Werewolf

Finally, the werewolf stopped. He stood up to his full height in the back seat of the Camaro, in a puddle of blood that was nearly ankle-deep. He raised the young girl's tiny, mangled body over his head with one powerful arm, as if she were a bloodied rag doll. Gruesome splashes of crimson dripped from his jaws and talons as he defiantly bayed at the moon, heralding his successful kill. The werewolf dragged the pitiful remains from the car and dropped them on top of a large, flat boulder. Then he settled down to feed.***Wolcott Junction is a sleepy little town, now awakened by gruesome killings from an apparent werewolf. How much blood will be spilled as the police attempt to contain this nightmare!?