[ WP ] Your car has broken down in the middle of the night on an extremely isolated mountain road in Kentucky . An unknown creature is stalking you as you walk to town . Describe the encounter with the unknown creature . How do you survive the encounter ?

Well shit. Fucking two tires are flat. I just bought a new set six months ago. Damn. Nothing to be done about it. I ca n't believe I took the scenic route. It'll be pretty, my dad says. Shame it's fucking one in the morning. Ah well, ca n't be helped. No signal either, so I ca n't just use my AAA card and get a tow. If I remember right, there's a town'bout six miles up the road. There's something not right about this situation. One tire, bad luck. Two tires? I smell a conspiracy. I bend down to check the wheels. Kneeling at the front right, I inspect the tire. There is something there. I pull it out of the tire. Four narrow spikes coming together in a vaguely pyramid shape. It is designed that there is always one point sticking up, much like a jumping jack. It is a caltrop. Originally an anti horse weapon, they work just fine with automobiles. This one even has the spikes hollow to better let the air escape from tires. Yep. This is sabotage. I hear a wolf's howl coming from the mountain. My blood runs cold. There's no wolves in West Virginia. Too far east. I have a sinking feeling I know what it is. 
 
 Acting with as much calm as I can muster, I go to the trunk of my car. I pop it open. Unzipping my duffel bag, I grab my kit. My plate armor would take too much time to don. I'll stick with my everyday jacket. It has a fine chain mail sewn into the lining. Looks unnoticeable. The only give away is the increased weight. No helmets tonight. I need all my senses. My hand pauses above my pugio for a moment. Nah, I pick up my Fairbairn–Sykes fighting knife instead. I acquired it in from an SASR man quite some time ago. To replace the one I lost in'69. I also grab my favorite; the Pattern 1796 Light Cavalry Sabre. I love it. Perfectly balance, with a slightly heavy leading edge, it is a fearsome weapon. Tying the scabbard to my belt, I walk down the road. Could be my imagination getting at me, but I doubt it. You live enough reincarnations of various warriors, you tend to be right on your hunches. I admire the moon as I walk on, keeping my eyes tuned for noise. Still have n't told Anne yet. I've done it before, tends to have a 40 % success rate. I mean, its a lot to take in, `` Honey, just to let you know, I'm technically over two and a half thousand years old. Oh, and I've killed more people than I could ever count.'' Yeah, that goes over real well. 
 
 I hear something in the brush. It's good, very good. If it was n't for the completely unsubtle approach to the sabotage, I'd have been corncobed. It follows me from within the forest. I continue walking down the deserted lane. Keeping one eye on the tree line, I whistle a jaunty tune *Macpherson's Lament. * Discreetly, I thumb out an inch of my blade with my left hand. I can see the lights of the town. It's got to be soon. The beasty has to strike now or never. I get twenty yards when it bursts from the trees in an explosion of leaves and pine needles. Twirling, I unsheathe my blade and slash it in the air in front of me. The beast dives out of the way, rolling to a stop and rising from its crouch. It stands on its two legs to show its full height. Damn near ten feet tall and nine hundred pounds if I'm any where close. It's dark brown fur is thick and coarse. No doubt its hide will be tough. It's claws are razor sharp, as are the row of teeth that are visible as the beast snarls. It looks at me with it's yellow eyes full of hate. From its lupine snout it stretches up to the sky and gives off a baleful howl. It is what I expected, a werewolf. And a canny one to be using booby traps in an ambush. There's a murderously cunning human behind that lycanthrope's bestial face. I whirl my blade in a figure eight. `` Come on ya mangy mutt. I have n't got all night. Just try an' eat me.'' I smirk. No matter how smart the man behind the monster, the beast's mind is just not as intelligent. It takes the bait, charging at me. I roll out of the way of his vicious slobbering jaws and come up on guard. I block one of his massive sets of claws with my sword, and duck under the second. It is underneath his hulking frame I deliver a quick slice to the inside of his knee. He winces at the injury, but still unleashes a backhand that sends my flying across the road. I crippled him slightly, he is limping a tad. Still, I ca n't get up in time before he reaches me. I shove my sabre two handed in his jaws to keep them away from my throat. He replies by swinging the sword, with me still attached, over his shoulder with just a flick of his neck. I'm back on the other side of the street, great. And I think I bruised a rib. I'm gon na feel that tomorrow. I get on my feet. Shaking myself off, I charge at him with my sabre held high. I dodge his swiping paw, and backhand swing a cut deep underneath his left arm. Hot stinking blood comes spurting out, covering my sword hand in gore. Ducking under his arm, I turn and deliver a two handed chop on his wounded arm. The blow is so great that it amputates the limb. It is a fatal wound. Shame the beast did n't agree. Seemly immune to the pain in his rage, he knocks my sword out of my hand with his remaining arm and grabs me by the throat. Lifting me up, he brings me to eye level with him. I ca n't breath. His waiting jaws are drooling, ready to eat my face clean off. Darkness is stretching from the corners of my eyes. My consciousness fading, I grab the knife from my belt. With the last of my strength I raise it up in my fist, and plunge it into the animal's eye. Shoving it deeper and deeper, I puncture into the brain, killing it instantly. His claw releases me and I drop three feet, gasping for air. No doubt I will have the mother of all bruises on my neck. Despite just coming out of a life or death scenario. Only one thought fills my mind. How am I going to explain the injuries to Anne? Picking up my sabre, I wipe it clean on the beasts fur. I roll it off the road and into the woods. It will look like a deer was hit, but that suits me just fine. I killed a werewolf, which is nice, but he owes me new tires. He'll never pay up. There's no use beating a dead wolf.
