Suddenly, there was a thump on the roof. Silence fell on the group fast, in a way that only fear could facilitate.
"We-werewolves?" Stan stammered
"Has to be," Bruce growled in a low voice, "the roof's wood. Wood stops vampires."
The thumping was getting more insistent at this point, accompanied by snarling. The roof, while supported with thick beams, would not hold for much longer. While the thumping seemed random, Bruce had fought enough of these creatures to know that what they were actually looking for was the weak spot in the roof. Until the thumping concentrated onto one spot, Bruce knew he had time. "Harpoons," He hissed at Stan, "get my harpoons."
"What good are they" Stan began
"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO QUESTION, DAMMIT!" Bruce roared, and immediately regretted. The werewolves had definitely heard, because they paused their thumping for a minute. All was quiet; then a paw broke through the roof near Bruce's head as one werewolf used his claws to splinter through the wood.
Shit, Bruce thought, these wolves aren't out to convert. They're out to feed.
"Go" He hissed at Stan, and stan silently scampered to the storeroom were everyone had kept their weapons. The group's argument of the evening now seemed dangerously petty, for it was the verbal attacks that had made Bruce decide to take all the weapons in the first place.
No time for that now. Gotta kill some wolves.
Bruce grabbed his left thigh and pulled away as the werewolves worked the hole, getting it bigger. Stan returned with the harpoons, his face drained of all color. Wordlessly, Deborah reached out and grabbed one of them. The others followed suit.
Bruce continued to stare upwards, his hand grabbing his left thigh. The hole was big enough now for him to get a good look at the lead wolf; another couple of solid hits and the room would be werewolf-infested.
Crack. Another piece of wood came flying down. Bruce gripped his thigh more tightly. The lead wolf, impatient with his crew's speed, snarled down the hole, coiling himself for a jump.
Bruce tensed himself, feeling the first jolts of adrenaline starting to enter his system. He waited for the werewolf to commit to the jump.
The wolf launched himself.
At the same instant, Bruce pulled his hand away, still gripping his thigh. There was a tearing sound as velcro gave way, and suddenly a gun materialized in his hand. Bruce dove right, both his hands gripping the gun, pumping bullets into the wolf as they both dove to the ground.
The other wolves followed their leader down the hole.
And another battle began.

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