Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm

The old man sat on his porch, gazing over his land, gently rocking in his chair, lost in thought as older men often do. He whittled away while the young girls played nearby in the yard. As the sun dipped lower, he suddenly heard a haunting sound he hadn't encountered in years—a single, elongated howl. A chill ran down his spine as he scanned the treeline.

"Girls, come inside," he instructed, relieved when they complied without protest.

He rummaged through his computer until he confirmed his dread: it was a full moon tonight. It had been three decades since that fateful night, but the memories surged back with a vengeance. He picked up the phone to call the girls' mother. "Hey, I know I promised to keep them overnight, but I'm feeling unwell. Could you swing by to pick them up?"

"Of course, Dad. I'll be right there."

Her words warmed his heart. He had met her mother fifteen years ago, and she had filled the void left by the tragic loss of his family. She arrived shortly, bringing food and cold medicine, a testament to her caring nature.

"You’re sure it’s no trouble?" he asked.

"Not at all. Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit weary."

"Alright," she replied, gathering the girls, "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing."

"I look forward to it."

"Say goodbye to Grandpa," she prompted.

"Goodbye, Grandpa," they chorused.

He embraced them, watching as they disappeared down the driveway. With the house now empty, he could prepare for what lay ahead. Jenny was visiting her sister, leaving him alone for the night.

He was determined to be ready this time, but first, he needed to pay his respects. The twilight was fading, and he knew his time was limited. The attack would come at night, just as it had before.

He walked out to the garden, where two gravestones stood. Kneeling with creaking knees, he laid his hands on the markers. "Tonight, we seek retribution," he whispered.

Moments later, he descended into the basement to unlock the gun safe. With the girls around, it seldom got opened, and he had to yank hard to free the door. His hunting gear filled the space, but he unearthed a chest hidden at the bottom.

He retrieved an old lever-action brush gun, a relic from years past, purchased from a guide in Alaska who had handed it over without question when he inquired about something capable of taking down a grizzly bear. The old man pulled out specially crafted bullets that glinted under the dim light. After that fateful night, he had melted down his wife’s silver candlesticks to create the rounds. It felt only right.

He loaded the rifle with the silver bullets and, for good measure, grabbed a revolver filled with similar ammunition. Ascending the stairs with his makeshift arsenal, he settled into his favorite leather chair, draping an old army blanket over his lap, and waited.

Just before midnight, he heard something creak onto the porch. Anticipating a forceful entrance, he was startled when the door quietly swung open, allowing the night air to rush in, carrying the sound of heavy breathing and snarling, reminiscent of a large dog.

The beast prowled into his home—a massive, dark creature. He had only glimpsed it once all those years ago, but he recognized it as the same beast that had taken his wife and daughter.

"I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time," the old man declared.

"Me too," the creature growled before lunging forward.

The old man fired the revolver through the blanket, causing the creature to yelp and halt in its tracks as it realized its miscalculation. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the rifle as the creature scrambled for the door, but it didn’t get far. The old man fired four times, and the beast collapsed.

After a moment of hesitation, he approached the animal to ensure it was truly dead, as he had done countless times during deer season. He dragged the lifeless creature back to the front of the house and covered it with firewood before soaking the pile in gasoline.

Using his father's Zippo lighter, he ignited the pyre and returned to the house, bringing out a bottle of whiskey he had been saving for this very occasion. He smiled as he sipped the whiskey while watching the flames dance.

However, his smile faded when he heard another howl echo in the night.

The first video features a captivating live performance titled "WILD THE COYOTE & BADD WOLF - OLD MAN," showcasing the raw emotion and intensity of the artists.

Chapter 2: The Return of the Past

As the echoes of the howl faded, the old man felt a surge of adrenaline. Memories flooded back, each one sharper than the last. He had prepared for this moment but now questioned if he was truly ready.

The second video, "Don't Let the Old Man In" (Cover) performed by Bill Wolff, resonates deeply with themes of age, memory, and facing one's fears, mirroring the old man's turmoil.