OK, this one is a bit darker than I normally do.  Not sure about the end.  I wanted to spread it out a little longer, accentuate the psycho bit, but it didn't seem right.

As soon as I thought of the werewolf theme I knew what the end had to be.

OK, ending changed to make it less abrupt,

The moment he staggered into the pub I knew there was going to be trouble. He didn’t come in often enough to be thought of as a regular. On the odd occasion he had come in he was borderline. He didn’t do quite enough to get himself barred. He would make unfunny jokes at people’s expense. He would leer at the women. Within minutes he’d be sitting on his own. He never stayed for more than two beers.

But tonight he had obviously been practising before he chose my bar. His eyes were glazed and bloodshot, his hair (and there was still a lot of it) was all over the place. He looked like hell. He strode up to the bar and supported himself with both hands on the counter. He looked me in the eyes and threw his chin out, challenging me to make something of it.

Every barman faces this moment. Depending on where the bar was it might be a regular Saturday night occurrence or once a year. But the drunk who will fight you for his right to another drink will face up to you, and you need to be ready for him.

Everyone deals with it differently. If you’re the landlady you might charm him. If you’re 6 feet tall and 6 feet wide you might intimidate him. You might joke, or get the staff around you, or be his mate, or whisper quietly in his ear. But you didn’t give him another drink.

Which was fine, as far as it goes. Now, I’m a big guy, and I don’t back down easily. This was my pub, and as the saying goes, "If you want to drink by your own rules, buy your own pub". But as well as being drunk and aggressive, he had one other slight problem. The moon was waning gibbous.

Which was a bad time to piss off a werewolf.

Hollywood had once again not quite got it right. Werewolves don’t go through expensive CGI effects as the moon peeps out from behind a cloud. They go through a four-week cycle. For a week around the full moon, they were pretty much wolf. For a week around the new moon you wouldn’t know them from the guy next door. At any other time they were on the turn.

Tonight he was about 50% wolf, and 100% trouble.

I walked over and faced him, thankful for the counter that separated us. I oozed a quiet confidence, and hoped that the old wives tale of dogs being able to smell fear was wrong. I keep a pickaxe handle under the counter, out of sight. I didn’t think it would help if things turned ugly, even if I could get to it in time.

"Evening" I said. Maybe my good manners and natural charm would work.

"Ambrosia", he barked.

"Come on, you know I can’t do that. Ambrosia is only for the Gods. You want me to lose my licence?"

He stared at me, breathing heavily. I started to make a mental inventory of equipment behind the bar. Silver. Silver. What did I have that was silver? I resolved that if I were still around on Wednesday I’d go down the flea market and get a cheap silver service knife.

Then he shrugged. "Beer".

The teaspoon! By the coffee percolator there was a sugar bowl with a silver teaspoon in it. Stand back. I’ve got a teaspoon and I know how to use it. I wondered if any of my regulars would try and stop him ripping out my internal organs, or whether they would all make a bolt for the door.

I shook my head. "You can have a coffee if you want. It’s strong and hot."

"Coffee?" he shouted. Conversation halted in the bar. Everyone was studiously not looking in my direction. Well, that would be the ‘bolt for the door’ option, then. "If I wanted a bloody coffee do you think I would come to this pisshole? Give me a sodding beer!"

I shook my head and braced my self. Who would attend my funeral? What would be left to bury?

And then, to my amazement, he crumpled. His head dropped, his shoulders drooped and he started to shake. Was he crying?

And then he drew in a giant sob, threw back his head, and howled.

There’s something about a wolf howl. It’s hardwired into our brains. Deep down there’s a primitive part of us that says ‘blink’ when someone pokes at your eye, ‘sneeze’ when your nose tickles, and ‘run for your life’ when a wolf howls. It’s a deep, unconscious thing.

So imagine the effect when a wolf howls inside the confines of a bar. Where there’s nowhere to run and the wolf is two feet from you.

In the silence that followed I heard a quiet voice say, "Do that again, and you’re barred." It was my voice. Another voice, but this time only in my head, followed up with "Oh-shit-I’m-dead-I’m-dead-I’m-dead!"

He stood gripping the counter, staring at the wood. His thick fingernails worked rhythmically at the varnish. He didn’t know what to do or say. I filled a couple of cups with coffee. "Sugar?" I asked. He shook his head. I slipped the spoon into my pocket. Well, you never know.

I left Bridgett to deal with the bar, and took him over to the corner alcove. I sat him against the wall, and sat myself down facing him.

"You alright?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Want to talk about it?" He sat there silently, looking at his coffee. I gave it a minute, and then made as if to go.

"Sorry", he said. Of all the things I was expecting him to say, that was not on the list. I sat back down.

"A girl?" I asked.

He looked surprised for a moment, nodded, and took a drink of coffee. It was almost always a girl.

"It was three weeks ago. I was down town, on the prowl. You know, checking out the pubs, seeing who was about. It wasn’t late, but it had just got dark. She was walking down the street.

"You know when you see a girl, and you think, ‘nice arse’ or ‘nice face’ or whatever, but she’s too skinny, or she’s got small tits? Or there’s something wrong somewhere. Or she looks OK but she’s overdone the make-up or she’s dressed like a whore or whatever. Whatever she’s like, she’s, you know, less than perfect? Something that you can stand for an evening, but not longer?

"Well, she was none of that. She looked gorgeous. In every way. And she was dressed classy. I mean, she looked as though she was wearing her clothes like they were part of her. She was class. The way she looked. The way she moved. All of it. Class. Sheer class.

"So I’m looking at her, right? I mean I have just stopped still in the middle of the bloody pavement and I’m staring at her. She’s on the other side of the street, and she’s moving away from me, and I want her, I want her like I’ve never wanted a woman, and I’m just stood there like a bloody idiot and I’m just staring at her with my eyeballs out on stalks and she’s walking away from me. Plonker!

"I mean, I have no problems with women, right? Mr bloody Romeo, me. They’re all the same. Say the magic words, press the right buttons and it’s knickers off, bang, now piss off, I’ve had my fun.

"But her, I’m just staring at her, not even thinking about chatting her up. What’s up with that, eh?

"But then I see these yobs, right? They’re up the road in front of her, and I can see that they’re drunk. And one of them, he nudges his mates and says something, and I think ‘this is bad’.

"And he shouts out ‘Hello, darling. How much for a blow job?’ All ‘look at me, lads’ sort of thing.

"And she stops! The stupid woman stops! And she says, ‘You’ll never be able to afford me, arsehole’ and his mates all laugh, but I can see he’s not laughing, and I know what’s going to happen next.

"So I start to run. I go charging towards them, ‘cause I know that this is going to go very nasty very quick.

"But before I can get there he makes his move. He puts his hand in his pocket and he’s got a knife. Then Bang! He’s on the floor. I heard his arm snap, but she’d moved so fast I’d hardly seen it. He starts screaming and his mate steps forward. Whoosh! And she’s raked her nails across his face, and there’s blood pouring.

"And then I’m there, putting the boot into one of the others. Bish! Bash! Bosh! And it’s all over. 15 seconds later and they’re all on the floor, whimpering. And she’s put as many on the floor as I have.

"And I look at her, and she looks at me, and we know. We both know. We’re both the same. And she looks at her hand, the one she clawed the guys face off with, and she licks the blood off her finger. It is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. She’s standing there, fully clothed, and I have a hard on. Can you believe that?

"So I say to her, "You fancy getting something to eat?" Me, Mr Smooth. What a bloody lame chat-up line.

"But she looks at me, and then she looks at these wankers on the ground, and for a moment I think she’s going to chow down on them, there and then. I mean, even though it’s two weeks till the full moon she’s thinking about it.

"Then she strides off. I mean, what was I meant to think? Was that a yes? Was that a no? What? So I chase after, and I’m trying to keep up with her like I’m a bleeding puppy or something, and she looks at me, and you know what she says? She says "If you’re a vegetarian you’re shit out of luck"

"I mean, she’s sussed I’m a werewolf, right, and she says that. She was so bloody funny sometimes. She was just so smart.

"So we get something to eat and we’re talking, and we’re laughing, and it’s not like normal, where you’re just waiting for her to shut up so you can get her in the sack. She’s making me laugh, and she’s saying what she feels, and you know what? It’s exactly how I feel too. About all these sheep everywhere, like the cretins we’d decked earlier. All these sheep, and we’re wolves, and we’re not supposed to do anything, but they’re sheep, for Christ’s sake. It’s like they’re begging us.

"And then they’re kicking us out the restaurant, and I’m thinking ‘What’s your game?’ But then I check my watch and it’s one o’clock in the bloody morning. It’s like we’ve been abducted by aliens and lost a chunk of time, or something.

"And we’re standing there, and I’m thinking ‘take me home, take me home’ ‘cause by now I want her so bad it’s aching. So we hail this cab and get in, and I say ‘where can I take you?’ She says ‘Your place’ and I say, ‘OK.’

"I never take a girl back to my place. Never. Never ever. The cardinal rule. Never let her know where you live, otherwise you can never get rid of her. You always go round to her place. And there’s me saying ‘OK’ like it was a great idea.

"So we get to my place, and it’s a dump. I mean, it’s OK for me, it’s just a place to crash out in, but let’s face it, it’s a dump. And I try to stand in front of the untidy bit, but it’s all untidy, there’s no tidy bits. But she doesn’t see it. I mean, she must have seen it, but she doesn’t let on, she takes me straight into the bedroom and tells me how horny the sheep-worrying had made her. And I know what she means. She means the thrill of slapping those losers about. And they had asked for it. They had practically said out loud ‘We’re a bunch of sheep, please rip our throats out.’ And the thing is, if the police had got involved, we’d be in the right. How sick is that?

"Anyway, the whole thing had got me pretty jazzed too, not that I needed to be jazzed. She was gorgeous, did I tell you? But man, that first night. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

"And in the morning I woke up, and she had gone. The first woman in my life I had not slipped out on, and she’s slipped out on me. That, my friend, is what they call irony. And I’m in a panic. Of course I am, I’m thinking she’s had her fun and told me to piss off. That’s a turnaround, isn’t it?

"But then I saw the note. It just had the name of a pub and a time, and I know it’s alright.

"But for the rest of the day I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, I was just crazy, like some love-sick loser.

" I was at the pub half an hour early, but she was an hour late. An hour! I’ve never waited for a bird in my life. And I just sat there, everyone looking at me like I’m some sad git that has been stood up. ‘Course, they changed their look when she did turn up. She was stunning, and all that anger I had been working up just disappeared.

"So we have a couple of drinks, and I’m like two people. I mean, on the one hand I’m thinking ‘let’s just get back to my place and carry on where we left off last night.’ But on the other hand I was just happy chatting to her, sitting there in the pub with her noticing me and every other loser in the pub seeing us and thinking ‘Lucky bastard.’

"Anyway, some time later I suggested we go back to my place, but she just shook her head. Said I had to get her in the mood. So I closed in for a snuggle, sort of thing, but she laughed and pushed me away. I can’t tell you how frustrating that was, how humiliating. And I was confused, you know? She had asked me to get her in the mood, and then she pushes me away. What’s up with that?

"Then she says she wants to go sheep-worrying again. Wants to sucker some low-life into taking us on. Now me, I was all for just going back to my place. I mean, with a body like hers I didn’t need a jump-start. But she was in charge. I’d have jumped under a bus for her by that time.

"So we went down by the river, by the underpass under the main road. It was well dark by this time, and we’re walking slowly, whispering and laughing, making private jokes. And we were about halfway along the underpass when these guys start coming towards us from the other end. And I can hear footsteps behind us.

"The three in front of us spread out, so we stopped. There were three more behind us. And she was almost laughing. She was bottling up all this… this... energy, like a kid at Christmas. It was like she couldn’t contain herself.

"One of the guys said, "Give us your money and phones." All cocky like, ‘cause there’s six of them and two of us and they’re not expecting any trouble.

"And she said, "Oh no. We’re being robbed! What shall we do?" Only she said it all mocking, rolling her eyes.

"Then she laughed. Right in his face. Not pretend laughter, the real thing.

"And the one that had spoken before, he totally lost his rag. He told his mates to hold me. Now I don’t take shit from anyone, not me. But she looked at me and shook her head, wanting me to wait. So I let a couple of them grab me.

"And then he said, "You going to think it funny when I make your boyfriend watch me rape you?"

"But now she was exactly like a kid at Christmas. She was jumping up and down clapping and saying, "Ooh yes. Go on, big boy. Rape me", a big grin on her face.

"And this guy totally lost it. Well, you can understand it. So he backhands her, right across the mouth. And then he looked at his mates with an expression that said ‘that shut her up!’

"And it had. She wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned to look at him, and it wasn’t a pleasant look. And then, right then, I knew this wasn’t just going to be a slapping. She was going to kill him. That was what she had been planning all along.

"Now, we were pretty much human at this point. When you’re a wolf, you don’t think, exactly. You hunt, you feed, you sleep. You run on instinct. It’s a thrill, but not in a way you can explain in words. But when you’re human, you’re… well… human. Now I’m not a saint. I’ve done stuff in my time when there was no wolf in me. But her, she was messed up. I mean, she had all the mean characteristics of wolf and human, all mixed up, all the time. Think of a psycho. Now put it in a werewolf body.

"I turned to the guys holding me against the wall and whispered ‘Run!’ But they didn’t, of course. They just laughed.

"And then she hit him, straight in his gut. It sent him across the underpass and up against the other wall. And then she was swinging and kicking at the others.

"I told them to run again, but one of them kneed me in the stomach, and that was it. I don’t take that from anyone.

"So after a while a couple have run off and the others are just laying where we dropped them, and the one that had backhanded her was puking up and trying to catch his breath from that one punch.

"She dragged one of the unconscious ones over to him. She made sure he was looking, and then she took this guy’s head and snapped it round. You could hear the crack. Then she did it again to one of the others. And again.

"This guy, he was winded, right? Probably internal injuries. But he was conscious. He could see it all. And he knew he was going to be next. He wet himself. I mean, literally pissed himself. Then she lifted him up to his feet, held him against the wall and told him to go ‘Baa’. She wanted him to be a sheep, see? She was holding him by his neck and telling him to make sheep noises.

"So eventually he does, and she smiles, and then suddenly slams his head against the wall, and he’s dead. Just like that. We’re standing in a slaughterhouse and she’s laughing and I am shit-scared.

"So I get her to go. She just wanted to stand there and revel in it, but I knew that the police were going to turn up at some point, so we hightail out of it down to the river, down on the towpath, out of the streetlights.

"And suddenly she was grabbing at my trousers and she was all over me. I mean, I’m wanting to curl up and die but she’s not taking ‘No’ for an answer. I really wasn’t interested by this time, but I defy any man to say ‘No’ to a woman like that.

"Afterwards I went home, via the off-licence. I finished a whole bottle of Jack Daniels before I could get to sleep. But when I woke the next afternoon and I knew I was going to see her again. It was as though I was addicted.

"The same pub, the same time, and she made me wait again. But this time she wasn’t interested in talking and drinking, she led me straight out again. But it was Monday evening, and it was early, and there were no drunks or gangs about. The place was pretty much dead. But she was wired. I wasn’t the only one that was addicted, you know?

"And then we spot this guy going into a carpark. So she runs after him, calling out, and of course he stops and turns towards us.

"She walked up to him and said ‘I’m going to kill you and steal your car.’ Just like that. No lead up or anything. He made some comment about growing up and went to go towards his car again but she leaped in front of him. And the look on her face, it said it all. But he didn’t back down, not this guy. He bunched his fists and faced her off.

"Then Bash! she’s hit him around the head and he’s on the floor. Now we’re strong, I mean really strong, even when we're human, so his head must have been ringing, but up he jumps straight away. He is facing her again, fists ready, and when she swings at him again he somehow ducked and laid into her ribs, one-two.

"Of course, she just shrugged it off. She gave him a push and he staggered back. But he’s still game. I mean, he must have realised something was up, but he’s not going to back down. Just like you, this evening. You knew what I was, but still you faced up to me. Got to admire that in a man.

"And she saw it too. ‘I don’t think you’re a sheep at all’ she said. ‘I think you’re a sheep dog’. And while she was still talking he came at her again, but she just lifted him clear off his feet and put him down on his back.

"She sat down on his stomach, pinning his arms down. Then she said, ‘You know what they say. Every dog has a little bit of wolf in him. Me, I want a little bit of dog in me.’ And she reached back and started to undo his belt.

"I screamed at her. I was asking her to leave. To move on. I was begging. Me! Begging!

"She looked at me with such contempt. Said she was mistaken, that maybe I was a sheep after all. That I was really just a sheep in wolf's clothing.  That I should stop whining or leave.

"I couldn’t watch. Not her, with him. I mean, right in front of me, like I wasn’t there.

"I turned and ran.

"Next day I hear about the four bodies on the news. Gang war, they said. So I got drunk for a couple of days.

"But then I started to look for her again. Even when I turned wolf, I couldn’t get a scent. Not a whiff of her. She’s out there, somewhere. She’s out there, she knows where I live, and she hasn’t got in touch with me. I’ve tried all the bars, I’ve waited in the dark places the muggers like. Nothing! You’d think she’d at least say goodbye.

"Bitch!"