Raxleon said goodbye to his fellow soldiers and walked out of the fort. It was a cool, crisp, night, and the moons shone brightly, illuminating Raxelon’s path. He walked slowly, enjoying every moment. He liked his new post, in Vvardenfell. He even had a date tomorrow, with a beautiful Dark Elf woman he met in Balmora. He was going to take her to dinner somewhere, and then hopefully back to his place…was that a howl? No. Couldn’t be. No wolves here. They’re all up in Skyrim or some other god-awful place. He walked forward, his pace a little quicker.
As he walked, he thought he heard footsteps, but decided it was just the wind hitting some sticks. That was when he heard the second howl. It was definitely a howl this time. He drew his sword and looked around, swinging blindly. He took out his torch and lit it. “Who’s there? SHOW YOURSELF!!” He stood for a moment, and then realized there was no point in just standing around. If something was chasing him, let it chase him. He quickened his pace to a sprint, and threw his torch behind him. Balmora was in sight now; he could see a guard standing there.
If he could just get his attention…Then, he felt the claws on his back.
"Stendarr!!” he yelled. Werewolf. He was brought to the ground by the beast, and felt the air leave his body. He tried to get it off of him, but it had already bitten him. He screamed in anguish, and swung his sword as best he could, but he couldn’t do anything. Then, the beast was gone, and Raxleon was sprawled on the floor, blood gushing out of his neck. He rose to his feet, but then when he looked up, he screamed, a deafening, piercing scream.
Standing in front of him, with spear in hand, was a figure, wearing a loin cloth, and an animal’s head for a mask. Raxleon was convinced this was just an illusion, perhaps an effect of the bite. But, when he tried to rise to his feet, he was pushed back down, by the point of the spear. “Run” was all the figure said. Raxleon struggled to his feet, and began to run. He could see over his shoulder that the figure was still standing in the same spot, as if he didn’t need to run. Raxleon ran, as fast as he could, until he fell to his knees, out of breath, and scared. The figure was on top of him. “Please…don’t…kill…I”. The figure shoved the spear into Raxleon’s stomach, and it came through the other side. “Not quick enough”, were the last words that Raxleon heard.
Is it a just a random short or are you entering it for the W4O short-story submission thing? Just asking, because I liked it, but I felt it was a little short and went by too fast. 
You have to give us more stories!