The inner-beast of one’s subconscious mind, according to Sigmund Freud, however hideous and grotesque, needs, necessarily, to be made more transparent to us, or it will direct our lives and we will, wrongly, call it fate. Fear is the pain arising from the anticipation of evil, be it fear of failure or fear of success. Fear is the enemy of us all. A Werewolf In Cleveland is a tour de force exploring a character who from page one is compelled to cope with an unrelenting inner-beast that ultimately escapes into reality to destroy her life and identity. As a horror aficionado, I have been an unwitting student, for decades, of every variety of inner-beast imaginable, from vampires, rampaging lizards and underwater beasts that rip us apart with iron jaws, to aliens from distant worlds that threaten to steal our planet. I dare say that I am an expert on the inner-beast; that metaphor for fear of the unknown. “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies,” from “13 Ghosts,” 1960, directed by the legendary Mr. William Castle.