The moon rose high, soft and bright,
A terrifying howl shook the night.
A pair of fangs starts to glow,
Standing still, where shadows grow.
A man turned beast, his form unknown,
Cursed to walk and hunt alone.
He feels your soul, he senses your heat,
A hunger for blood, a thirst for meat.
Shots were fired, but all in vain,
A mind both corrupt and insane.
For no ordinary weapon can win it.
Only silver bullets can kill it.