#imma pee

              “        cute.     but you’ll have to fill out an application, there’s also a practical interview as well as several other tests you’ll need to pass. it really isn’t just a hero group kind of thing. we have the seven and then we have the higher ranking classes and then we’ve got…. people who do good in cities like, well, miami.          “

Dean sat in his recliner, legs out and crossed and TV on. It was always hard to find anything good on daytime cable. It was a major let down. He sipped lazily at his beer, practically falling asleep because of boredom. He desperately needed something to do. He had been alone at home for two days...and that wasn’t like him. Not at all.

His eyes shot open when he heard a gunshot. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. Out n the country where he lived, there was plenty of hunting, but the shot was fairly close, too close. He set his beer down and shit of the tv, opening up the sliding door to the backyard. He sniffed the air.

Blood.

Looks like somebody hit something, but the smell was strong. Definitely track-able. He shut the door behind him and followed the scent to his shed.  Oh hell no...he wasn’t to keen on having dead animals stack up in there.

>He quickly turned when he heard footsteps coming from the trees. Two men walked out from behind the trees, rifles in hand. They opened their mouths to speak but Dean stopped them, telling them to leave and of course they listened.

He proceeded to enter the shed, opening the shutters to let light shine in. The floor was a bloody mess and it made Dean groan. He looked over at the blue tarp that lay on the floor.

It was shaking.

He furrowed his brows and approached it, uncovering whatever was under it.

When he saw it he grimaced. He thought something smelled like dog. It was in fact a whimpering werewolf, scared to death. He instinctively snarled it, but it didn’t run. It couldn’t.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”