This revised edition is longer, and gives a back story to why Detective Sarah Case and Jeff Hines are at the apartment. 

The werewolf’s ears perked to the sides.  An argument was taking place outside of its cage.  It couldn’t understand what the argument was about.  It didn’t understand most words being said.  It could only understand one syllable words.  So the werewolf simply ignored the argument.  A new sound caught its interest.  It lifted its large head.  Its ears twitched half to the right.  The werewolf knew the sound well.  It was a sound that shouldn’t be there.  It was a siren.
    The siren was at least a mile away.  The siren was getting closer.  It didn’t think the arguing people could hear the sirens.  Warning signals were blaring in its head.  Something wasn’t right.  The two arguing werewolves didn’t know it. 
    It stood up, groaning.  Its useless arm was hanging useless at its side.  The werewolf looked out the window.  It spotted the wrong thing immediately.  A car parked across the street.  The environment was black and white.  Any organism was in infrared.  The car was a sleek black, with flashes of white from the moon.  Two heat signatures were in the car.  The figure in front was in shades of green and blue.  It was holding something.
    The werewolf stared at the figure.  The figure was unmoving in the car.  The black and white object consisted of two large circles.  Binoculars, the werewolf thought, cocking its head.  The figure quickly shifted.  The quick movement startled the werewolf.  It snarled furiously.  The argument stopped for a moment.
    “What the gently caress are you ---- at?â€� a male voice yelled.
    The werewolf looked at the man.  It growled and looked back outside.  The sirens were close.  A police cruiser stormed down the street.  It braked hard in front of the black car.  Two figures jumped out of the cruiser.  The figures ran toward the apartment.  The werewolf snarled, black lips pulling from fangs.  It was hungry, starving.  It could hear the male transforming into the wolfish creature.  The werewolf just watched the two figures in anticipation.  The answer to his anticipation was simple.
    Dinner was served.  Appetizer, human; main course, humans; dessert, more humans!   

    Lieutenant Sarah Case reached the door first, gun drawn.  “NYPD, open up!â€� she yelled banging on the door.  She repeated the order and gave the house owners three seconds before she would kick it in. 
    “Jeff, get the back entrance to the basement.â€� She ordered quickly, still looking at the door.
    He gripped her shoulder hard and turned her around.  “Be careful in there Sarah,â€� he said quietly.
    She smiled and cupped his right cheek.  “I will, now go!â€� she said slapping his cheek lightly.  He nodded and ran down the stoop into the darkness of the yard.  “Open up,â€� she yelled at the door.  She stood back and gave the door a savage kick.
    The foyer was dark, the shadows bouncing from the revolving lights on the cruiser.  Sarah took the flashlight out of her belt.  As she was about to flick it on, a fist shot out of the shadows.  She gasped and ducked, the fist barely missing.  She dropped the flashlight with a clang.  The hand shot out of the shadows, a woman’s slender fingers wrapped around Sarah’s throat.

    Jeff’s heartbeat was that of a frightened rabbit.  The eight bodies that were found destroyed all thoughts of sleep.  Something was dreadfully wrong with methods of death, cannibalism wasn’t unheard of, but the bodies redefined mutilation.  The most memorable and terrifying body was the one found in Central Park.  It couldn’t have been the body of a human.  He could still see the body in his mind.
    It was found by a male jogger at six o’ clock in the morning.  Sarah had called him right after she got the call herself.  She told him not to eat breakfast, and he wouldn’t want breakfast anyway.  He picked her up in their squad car and they sped off to Central Park.  Two cruisers were already in the park when they got their.  Yellow tape encircled a twenty foot diameter of woods near the wide footbridge running above the lake.  They could both smell the blood in the air before taking two steps. 
    A nervous eyed, young uniformed rookie let them under the tape.  Sarah paused, rested her hand on the rookie’s shoulder and whispered a few words of encouragement.  The rookie nodded and walked out of the circle, toward the jogger who found the body.  The body-what was left of it-was lying on its back on the ground.  The officer standing over the body, Wilkerson, greeted them with a thin smile.  He said the body was a man, from the muscle structure in the arms and legs.  Sarah nodded and leaned closer to the body, a frown on her face.  Jeff leaned next to her, trying not to lose his late dinner on the corpse. 
    Blood soaked the ground like a flood; there was a squelching noise every time they shifted their weight.  The man only had a jagged stump above the elbow as his left arm; the skin and flesh were shredded from shoulder to wrist on his right.  His chest cavity was emptied of the heart, revealing snapped ribs in its place.  His intestines were strewn around the trees and bushes like spider web.  Jeff stepped away from an intestine hanging above his head.  The rest of the innards were gone.  The man’s legs were torn from the body.  Only one of them was on the ground, lying in its own puddle of blood a few feet away.  Jeff stood up, releasing a long held breath through his mouth.
    A low but clear noise jerked Jeff out of his thoughts.  He looked around wildly, gripping his gun barrel in both hands.  He was a good cop; he didn’t let fear overwhelm his control over the gun.  The gun was shaking in his hands, but he tried desperately to stop it, he finally did.  His finger wasn’t in the trigger guard, so he wouldn’t shoot an innocent civilian.  He doubted anyone near this house was innocent though.
    Jeff heard the noise again; it was coming from the shadows of the trees.  The noise was either a bird or the rustling of leaves, he couldn’t be sure.  He walked to a glass door and pulled his flashlight off of the belt.  Gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, he peered into the darkness. 
The strong beam inched slowly across the concrete floor, lighting strips of bright white against the dull grey.  Jeff’s eyes widened a feet later, an opaque layer dried blood painted the floor and the walls for a few feet.  Deeper in, a trail of blood stopped at the end of the hall.  His throat went dry, sweat beaded on his forehead.
He picked his radio up in the hand with his flashlight and spoke quickly.  “Captain Dikes, this is Officer Jeff Hines, do you copy?â€�
“I copy Jeff, what is it?� the heavily Southern accented voice of Captain Dikes responded immediately.
“Sarah and I are at the Andre Bronson residence.  We need immediate back up, copy?â€� he said quickly again.  His only response was the loud crackling of static.  “Captain, do you copy?â€� he asked louder, panic edging his voice.  There was only static.
His flashlight started to flicker, a few seconds later it burned out.  The hallway was enshrouded in darkness again.  His blood ran cold with a quick surge of fear.  He needed a source of light; he dropped the flashlight to the ground.  Pushing the fear away again, he quickly shoved the door open.  His hands shot out for some light switch, he quickly found it.  Five naked ceiling bulbs hung high by chains revealed the horrors hidden in the hallway.  He took a slow, shaky step forward; the crack of his boot hitting the concrete was like a gunshot in the silent air.  He stopped, squeezed his eyes shut.  He took a slower step, his eyes still squeezed shut.
He opened his eyes and regretted it immediately.  Every symptom of fear ever written down ran through his body.  No not fear, it was stronger than fear.  Terror; pure terror paralyzed him.  His pulse jack hammered.  The door handle was slowly turning, and then the door opened with a weak squeaking of hinges.  Long, claw tipped fingers wrapped around the door’s edge.  Jeff could see a leg, then two legs, both with sleek black fur and claw tipped toes step into the hallway.  Within a few seconds, seconds that felt like eternity, a werewolf crouched at the end of the hallway.
It cocked its head and sniffed the air, keeping its golden pupils on him.  The werewolf opened its massive jaws and snarled.  Saliva dribbled to the floor from the tips of its yellow fangs.  Its ears pinned themselves to the sides of its head.  Crouching lower to the ground and snarling, it charged.  Time slowed down as it moved closer, an agonizing slowness that allowed Jeff to see far more of the beast.  He was still paralyzed with terror, his body betraying him, his mind screaming for him to run like hell. 
Plaster from the wall scraped off as the werewolf’s shoulders brushed heavily against the ceiling.  The light fixtures almost fell but rolled down the back of the werewolf’s head.  Every step was a thunderous clap in his ears; he could hear the werewolf’s quick huffs of breath.  The werewolf wasn’t breaking a single sweat; Jeff was sweating like a person in the desert wearing a parka.  Furious golden orbs glared into his soul with a palpable fury.  Jeff wanted to avoid eye contact at all cost; he stared at the werewolf’s furred chest.
When the only thing in his sight was thick black fur, a scream finally escaped the grip of terror.  Time resumed at its normal pace.  He tried to jump back from the beast, but too slowly.  The thick arm shot out and gripped the front of his shirt.  The claws shredded the shirt and cut into Jeff’s chest.  He screamed louder in pain as blood welled around the claws and down his body.  The fingers squeezed tighter for purchase, then lifted him off the ground, slamming the back of Jeff’s skull into the light fixture. 
Hot blood ran down Jeff’s neck and onto the ground, starting a new trail.  The werewolf heaved him into the second lamp, the glass slicing into his neck.  He screamed louder as pain shot through his neck and into his spine.  The werewolf lowered him briefly, his feet dangling a few inches above the ground.  Jeff looked at the werewolf; it was rolling its shoulders and flexing its enormous biceps.  The hand tore his left lung, immediately cutting off his screams.  His eyes widened at the pain.  Blood blocked his windpipe as it surged up his throat and onto the werewolf’s feet like a waterfall.
The werewolf glared at him, pulled the hand out of Jeff’s chest.  He fell to the floor, his back leaning on the wall.  He didn’t dare look up because of the glass in his neck; he stared at the werewolf’s knees.  The large fist that backhanded him in the nose was just a blur.  He couldn’t react more than quick breaths as his nose flattened, spurting more blood on the floor.  The pain blissfully ended as his body fell into unconsciousness. 
 
    The woman lifted Sarah off of the ground, her feet hanging a few inches above the ground.  “You b****,â€� she croaked out, balling her fist.  Sarah’s vision was tunneling; her breath was coming in short gasps.  She scratched weakly at the assailants arm.  The fingers squeezed harder, they were convulsing.  A deep growling sound came from the dark.  She punched her assailant’s throat hard and fast.  The pressure around her windpipe released.  Her assailant wheezed, ending the harsh breaths with a snarl. 
    She dropped on both her feet with a grunt, staggering back.  She gained her balance and vision.  The blood started flowing through the rest of her veins.  The revolving lights flashed over her assailant.  She recognized the woman.  It was Sierra Bronson, mother of Jabari “Darkwolfâ€� Bronson. 
    Sierra was holding her bleeding nose.  She stood up, wiped the blood on the back of her hand.  She glared at Sarah as she stood up straight.  They stared into each others eyes, Sarah jumped back.  The dark brown irises and white of Sierra’s eyes were quickly replaced by glowing ember.  Her pupils were large and golden.  Fury contorted her face.  Sarah’s heart jumped into her throat.
    Sarah stepped back towards the front door.  The gun was aimed squarely at Sierra’s chest.  A scream tore through the house, and then loud bangs, the screaming continued.  The gun jerked in Sarah’s hands.  “Jeff!â€� she screamed, looking at the empty doorframe behind Sierra.  Sierra threw back her head and gave a witches laugh.  The screams abruptly ended.
    “Your partner’s dead Officer Case,â€� Sierra hissed, it was a slightly guttural noise, deep from the throat.  “I can hear his bones being crushed, his muscles and flesh being feasted on by my husband.â€�
    Sarah shook her head vehemently.  “Don’t you dare gently caressing lie you cannibalistic b****.  He’s not dead, he’s about to blow your husbands brains all over the floor.â€� She snarled back.  “Eight people dead Sierra, there is no way either of you cannibals are going to see the light of day again.â€�
    “A little on the vigilante side don’t you think?  You’re just a worthless cop Officer, not Wonder Woman.â€�  Sierra’s smile faltered.  She looked at something above Sarah’s shoulder; her smile vanishing into shock. 
    Sarah heard footsteps running behind her.  Before she could turn around, a rough hand shoved her aside.  The hand gripped her shoulder hard and swung her around.  Her spine hit the hip of the owner of the hand.  She looked up at Sierra.  She was about to lunge when there was a bright flash and explosion from a pistol.  The bullet tore the right side of Sierra’s throat out.  Dark arterial blood sprayed onto the wall and the man holding her pinned to his hip.     
    The hand dropped her into a sitting position, her back leaning on a strong muscular leg.  Sarah looked up again.  Sierra was holding her throat with one hand, the dark blood seeping freely through her fingers, her eyes wide.  With the other she drew her arm back to slap him, her fingers curled.  The man she was leaning on fired again.  This time, three holes appeared in Sierra’s gut, more blood spraying Sarah and the man.  She doubled over and the man shot her for the final time.  Dark blood gushed out of the wound between her breasts.
    Sierra dropped to her knees and fell face first, her arms outstretched.  Sarah blinked, wiping the blood off of her face with the back of her hand.  She was shocked for a second.  A howl split through her shock. 
    “Sarah, get out of here, now!â€� William’s voice floated through her shock.  She blinked and looked up.  William was looking at her intently.  Sarah crab walked backwards and stood on shaky legs.  She winced and rubbed her throat, where Sierra’s claws scratched.  Her claws didn’t break the skin, the red scratches just hurt like hell.
    “What the gently caress are you doing here?â€� she asked; fury replacing shock.
    William shrugged slightly, “My job.  Trust me, I’ll explain everything later.  Now get out of here.â€�
    “No,â€� she said firmly, shaking her head.
    “Get the gently caress out of here!â€� William snarled; his eyes bore blue acid through her head.  Sarah didn’t move, throwing her own acid at him.  “gently caress,â€� he snarled again, “do not move from this spot.  I beg of you, for your own safety stay the gently caress away from that door.â€� He said, pointing to the basement door to the right of them.
    “You have a shite load to explain later,â€� she snarled back.  William didn’t respond, he ran rough the basement doorway; leaving Sarah standing a few feet from Sierra’s body.
    She shook her head violently and stepped forward.  Sierra’s hand shot out and grabbed Sarah’s leg.  She screamed, tried to kick away the hand with her free foot.  Sierra looked up into Sarah’s face, absolute rage turning her face into a bestial mask.  The bestial mask remained as Sarah put the gun point blank range at Sierra’s skull, and emptied her entire clip.  Sierra’s head exploded in a thick spray of blood.  Skull fragments and large chunk of brain splattered the wall. 
    The explosions from the gun deafened her for a few seconds.  She kicked away the hand, stood shaking for a moment.  She tried to wipe the blood painting her face off with her sleeve, blood covered every square inch of the front of her clothes though.  She stepped back and closed her eyes.  She stood where her feet left her.  Every nerve of her body told her to help William, and then beat the shite out of him later.  The look in his eyes made her to hesitate.
    For the first time in years she didn’t know what to do.