Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S3 Ep101: Episode 101: Halloween Werewolf Horror Marathon
Episode Date: October 31, 2022Today’s opening phenomenal tale of terror is ‘Happy Sun Daycare’, an original work by Suspicious-Nail-949, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate... it here for you all. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Happy_Sun_Daycare https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Chelsea.adams.524 We follow that with ‘Koleta’, an original work by Revenant Writer, kindly shared directly with me via my sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s kind permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/Revenant-Writer/ Next up is ‘The Cleaner’, another wonderful original story, this one by I Own Cows, also kindly shared directly with me via my sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s kind permission: https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/7a5cwq/im_the_cleaner_fiction/ Next is ‘Mommy and Daddy’ an original story by Ryan Brennaman, kindly shared with us at the Creepypasta Wiki and read with the author’s permission: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Mommy_and_Daddy/ Today’s penultimate tale is ‘The Lycanthrope and the Mad Lass’, an original work by BloodySpaghetti, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/BloodySpaghetti/ Tonight’s fabulous final unmissable story is ‘I was Hunted by a Pack of Werewolves for Sport’ by cesly1987, once more kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/cesly1987/
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Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon.
It's in the gloom of the sanguine sky,
that the hounds of hell roam the shadows,
hunting for innocent and lost souls on which to feast their feted mall.
Six terrifying werewolf tales for this marathon edition here on Halloween.
Well, my dear friends, as ever, before we begin, a word of caution.
Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery.
If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin.
Just a few miles outside of town stood in the old country house.
It had been converted into a daycare where parents would drop off their kids for the day and pick them up in the evening.
However, said daycare had been out of business for a few years now.
It was a sign posted in the front yard just a few feet from the house.
that read, Happy Sun Daycare, with a drawing of a cute-looking cartoony sun painted on it.
In the fenced-in backyard stood playground equipment that had since fallen into disrepair and had begun to rust.
A slide, a couple of swing sets, some monkey bars, and a merry-go-round were once covered by swarms of children as they ran and played in the outdoors.
They had since become perches of the local birds and squirrels and were sworn by ants rather than children.
I decided to write a report on the happy sun daycare for the news blog I work for.
For one thing, several of the citizens today had gone to that daycare.
I figured it might make for an interesting story to read about their experiences there,
and if it had affected their later life in any way.
For the other reason, wasn't quite so innocent.
There had always been concerned parents who fret over leaving their child in someone else's care.
That constant worry over how safe their sons and daughters.
daughters were, especially with all the horror stories posted online about various daycare-related
tragedies.
For my report, I decided I'd interview both employees and people who'd gone to the daycare as
children.
I wanted to get as many different points of view as possible, so it wouldn't seem so terribly
biased.
Of course, I agreed not to use their real names for the sake of their privacy.
The first person I interviewed was a middle-aged woman who looked after the infants at
the daycare.
for the sake of her privacy
we'll just call her Margaret
what was it like working at the daycare
I asked her
she replied
oh it wasn't anything too spectacular
just your typical day of working with children
or babies in my case
I see
I told her before I asked
have you had any problems while working there
Margaret shook it ahead
with the babies
of course not
they could be fussy but they weren't any trouble at all the children though were another story
this piqued my interest were the children that attended happy sun daycare too much for the employees to handle
or could it be that there were cases of abuse going on that had been kept secret until now
i had to find out oh why might that be i asked well
"'Marbara paused for a second
"'as though she was apprehensive about speaking to me.
"'There were times when I heard muffled squealing.
"'No, not squealing, screaming.
"'The first I thought it was just the children
"'pretending to be scared, but, well,
"'the more I heard it, the more I realized those screams were real,
"'that something was terrifying or possibly even hurting them.
"'Mah, did you ever see any children get hurt?
Margaret nodded.
Yeah, most of them were just the typical scrapes and bruises you'd expect to find on a child who fell while playing,
or who bumped his head while trying to show off to his or her friends.
Well, some of them, though, seemed off to me.
Every so often I'd to see a child walk past on the way to the nurse's office,
and each time the child looked like he'd been scratched or even bitten.
Children scratched or bitten.
That would be cause for alarm for anyone.
Perhaps some wild animal decided to make its home near the daycare,
and curious children had gotten too close.
Maybe a stray dog had wandered into the playground,
and some poor unknowing kid wanted to pet it.
Were there any animals in the area?
I decided to ask.
Straight dogs, raccoons, perhaps a possum nest.
I doubt it.
Pets weren't even allowed.
at the daycare and troughs were set up at night to keep any wildlife away though um there might have been a dog
roaming around the area margaret shook her head i pointed out well perhaps it was the dog that had
bidden those children oh i only heard the dog she told me i've never actually seen it and all i heard
with the occasional growls snarls or howls so margaret had only heard what sounded like a dog
I couldn't rule out the possibility that perhaps she'd mistaken some noise she heard for that of a dog.
Maybe she'd heard some children that were only pretending to be dogs and mistook them for the real ones.
Or maybe she'd heard the wind and thought it was a howl.
Well, if that were the case, I would explain the scratches and bites she saw on some of the children.
It wasn't too out of the realm of possibility that a child could have simply scratched his or her arm on a branch or part of the fence by accident.
With what sounded like a dog's growl to her,
Margaret could have reached the conclusion
that the children were being attacked by some sort of stray canine.
Still, I had to learn more about the daycare.
With the possibility of a cover-up regarding a series of dog attacks,
I figured the next person to interview would be one of the former attendees.
Perhaps one of them would have childhood memories
that could potentially shed some light on what Margaret had mentioned.
After doing some background checking,
I managed to find a young man who went to Happy Sun Daycare when he was around five or six.
Let's just call him Scott.
I found Scott working at a local butcher's shop.
I had to wait until his shift was over before I could start the interview.
Luckily, it wasn't too long of the wait, and it gave me some time to consider what to ask him.
Do you remember anything about Happy Sun Daycare? I asked.
I know it was a long time ago for you, but perhaps you can recall something.
Scott thought for a moment before replying
Not much
It's only maybe five or six when I went
I can remember just doing what kids do at that age
Play, finger paint, watch cartoons
That kind of stuff
I nodded
Were you a good kid?
For the most part
He admitted
Occasionally I get into some trouble
Nothing too serious though
Just your typical kid fuzziness
You know
Not wanting to take naps
refusing to eat veggies, that sort of thing.
I see.
I replied as I wrote down what he told me in a notepad,
and was a daycare fair in how they disciplined you?
Eh, somewhat.
All I ever got was a scolding and the occasional time-out.
Pretty much they made you sit in a corner for a few minutes
until they felt you were ready to join the other kids,
though you were lucky if that was all you got.
Scott pointed out.
What Scott said, baffled.
me a bit. They were lucky. How? I began to wonder if perhaps there had been more severe
punishments for the more unruly children that attended the daycare. Could there have been some
sort of more controversial form of discipline that the employees at Happy Sun Daycare had used
that they didn't want known to the public? I had to know. Oh, what exactly do you mean?
For a brief moment, Scott gave a shudder. He seemed to have recalled some of the public. He seemed to have
record something from his childhood that frightened him and seemed to have affected him in his adulthood as
well the kids who got into real trouble were sent into the gray door heathed a heavy sigh
oh i've never been in there myself i knew a few kids that did ones that would get into fights or
throw huge tantrums they'd end up going into that room i don't know what happened in there but well
they'd always come out shaking with wide eyes.
A few would break down crying,
some would scream,
one kid even threw up before passing out.
I frowned slightly.
What sort of horrors have been conducted in the room
that had been nicknamed the Grey Door?
I then remembered what Margaret had told me
and decided to check and see if perhaps
there was a connection with her story
and what Scott had just said.
Did the children have any scratches or bites on them?
I asked.
And, um, did you hear any strange noise?
He nodded.
A few kids had scratches on them after they left the grey door, but, well, I thought they got those before, and I just didn't notice them at first.
They could have tripped or something.
I did hear some heavy breathing.
That could just have been some kid panted him from running a lot.
Hard to say for sure.
First Marlare it said she thought she heard a dog snarling, and now Scott told me he heard heavy breathing.
But the strange noise is, mysterious, scream.
scratches and misbehaving children, and the mystery of the grey doorroom.
I could now but wonder what it was that Happy Sun Daycare had been hiding all these years.
I thank Scott for taking the time to speak to me before moving on to the next person to interview.
With my curiosity regarding the grey door still heightened,
I figured the next person to speak to would be one of the more troublemaking attendees of the daycare.
I had to know more about what went on inside that room,
and perhaps one of them could tell me.
After doing more background checks,
I managed to track down a young woman who will refer to as Alice.
She'd been arrested two weeks ago for spraying graffiti
and was charged for vandalism.
Rather than spend time in jail,
she agreed to do four months of community service.
For what I'd read about her records,
it seemed this wasn't the first time she'd gotten into trouble with the law.
We're always this much trouble, I asked her.
Alice shrugged. Maybe.
I wasn't sure how easy it would be to get the answers I wanted from her.
She seemed like the type would only cooperate if she would get some sort of advantage,
or if it meant less time behind bars.
The guy need to know about happy sun daycare, I pointed out to her.
Do you remember anything about the grey door?
For a brief second, a hint of fear flashed in her eyes.
Her face became pale as a few beads of sweat trickled down her forehead.
That was a long time ago, Alice pointed out.
I replied, surely you must have remembered something.
Records show you attend when you attended.
You sure you can't recall anything?
Alice took a few deep breaths and began to regain her composure.
If the mere mention of the grey door room was enough to put fear into her after all these years,
I couldn't help but dread what horror she could possibly have.
have experienced. He was someone who had run-ins with the law, someone who'd been arrested for
various crimes, primarily theft, vandalism, and trespassing, and yet it was something from her
childhood that caused the most fear of being punished. Why? Okay, I'll tell you, but you got a
promise never to say that I told you anything, got it? Alice sighed. I reassured her, I won't reveal
any names. That will be strictly confidential.
You see, I was playing outside
in the playground, she began to explain.
I remember wanting to play on the swings.
Another kid claimed he'd already gotten first dibs
to play on them. Before I knew it, we were in a big argument.
I lost control. Next thing I knew, he was on the ground crying.
Must have pushed him when we were arguing.
One of the teachers came up and grabbed me by the arm
and dragged me inside. She told me I'd be taken into the other
kids called the grey door room as punishment. What was inside the room? I asked in anticipation.
Alice took another deep breath and let out a shutter and a sigh. Well, the room was mostly empty.
I remember the floor was nothing but dirt around and the only light was a dingy old bulb that
barely lit anything up. The teacher just shoved me in and slammed the door shut. At first I tried
pounding on the door and screaming. I cried out for anyone to let me out. I read out. I
It was so dark and cold, and I was scared, and I heard something.
Something was behind me.
I turned around, and I remember screaming louder than I'd ever screamed in my life.
I frowned and concerned.
What did you see?
It was a dog, or at least I think it was a dog.
She choked back a few tears.
I didn't get a good look at it since it was so dark.
I remember was that it was the biggest and ugliest dog I'd ever seen.
That thing had glowing yellow eyes, huge sharp teeth,
was covered in black, shaggy fur.
And before I knew it, it snarled and lunged at me.
I ran as fast as I could, screaming and begging for anyone to come and save me.
It grabbed under my skirt with its teeth and tried to pull me towards it.
I tripped and fell, but I managed to kick it in the face a couple of times to get it to let go.
then it launched at me again.
But luckily for me, the door finally opened
and one of the teachers pulled me out of the room
and slammed the door shut before the dog could get me again.
So there was a dog after all.
The stories were all starting to come together.
Margaret's story about hearing screams and growling,
Scott's story about horrified kids
who'd been sent to the grey door room.
And now there was Alice's story
about being sent to that room
and being attacked by some sort of,
of large, vicious dog. Still, I had to know more. Why did they use a dog? Why did they cover it up?
Perhaps the people working at Happy Sun Daycare were afraid that such a punishment would be too
extreme to use on children. Or maybe they feared being sued by some animal rights group.
I then thanked Alice for a time and set forth to find the next person to talk to you. Maybe
another one of the employees. If I was lucky I might be able to get one of them to
reveal the truth about what was going on in the grey door room.
So once again I began searching through the records of anyone who ever worked at Happy
Sun Daycare.
Well, it took some time to find someone who was willing to talk to me.
Most former employees, I asked, why are the too busy or simply didn't want to give an
interview.
A few of them said various profanities as well.
I couldn't tell if they were angry that I had learned about what was going on all those years
ago, or if they were afraid of what might happen if they revealed any more secrets to me.
Still, I managed to track down at least one person who was willing to tell me his experiences
working at Happy Sun Daycare. Mr. Smith, as we'll call him, worked as a janitor at the
daycare back when it was still running. He'd managed to get the job only because his aunt was
in charge of one of the head offices there as well. However, Mr. Smith had moved to another town
since the daycare closed a years ago.
This meant I couldn't interview him in person,
so we sent each other emails instead.
Mr. Smith explained that he had some form of narcolepsy
since he was a teenager,
and a history of sleepwalking as well.
Doctors couldn't figure out what was causing this condition,
but they couldn't find any other adverse health effects linked to it either.
This still made it difficult for him to find work, though.
He told me he was grateful that his aunt managed to get him a job
but happy Sunday care.
Oh, I had so many questions.
Well, I wasn't sure which one to ask first.
After I got his first response, I wrote back to him.
I wanted to know how he was able to hold his job despite his condition.
Was he on medication for it?
How did the other employees and the children treat him?
A couple of days passed before I got any response from him.
I quickly opened the latest email response from Mr. Smith
and began to read.
He replied that his aunt would mix him
a special herbal tea
that would keep his narcolepsy in check.
She apparently strongly believed
in herbal medicine
and said it was better
than any standard medicine on the market.
Mr. Smith wrote about how the tea was quite bitter
and how he hated drinking it.
But he had to drink it if he wanted to keep his job.
Oh, on occasion his aunt would run out of the leaves
needed for the tea and he'd end up falling asleep.
This prompted another employee to go and make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself or others.
And as for how others treated him,
Mr. Smith explained in his letter that the children were generally very nice to him.
Most of them were quite curious and would ask him a lot of questions while he worked.
A few would generally act as a nuisance, but he didn't recall any of them being too much trouble.
On the other hand, the other employees seemed to have a sense of uneasiness around him.
He explained how he felt that they seemed extremely cautious around him,
and also he pointed out that his aunt always kept a close eye on him.
He wasn't sure if this was due to his condition or for some other reason, though.
Well, that just caused more questions to form in my mind.
Why were the other employees uneasy around him?
Was it because he was the nephew of one of the higher-ups,
or was there another reason?
There was the matter of his aunt keeping a close eye.
him maybe they were trying to keep the whole issue regarding the grey doorroom a secret from him
perhaps they were afraid that he'd find out about the dog and would contact the police
i had to know if he knew anything about this room i quickly wrote a reply and asked if he knew
anything about the large empty room and children being attacked by some sort of large dog
another couple of days passed before i got another response from mr smith i opened the reply and began to read
He said he didn't remember any sort of dog at the daycare.
In fact, he pointed out that animals weren't allowed on the property
and that he would set traps to give the squirrels and mice out.
His aunt was very strict about no pets being allowed as well,
most likely due to any potential allergies the kids might have.
Mr Smith explained in his reply that perhaps the dog that Alice had claimed a detector
was just someone in a cheap-looking dog costume.
But the room was kept barely lit so the kids in there wouldn't realize
it was a fake, and that the scratches and bikes were just the result of them tripping and accidentally
scratching themselves on some dirt. To my surprise, he'd been in the grey door room himself
several times as well. Strangely, he pointed out that they were always when he hadn't any tea
to drink and would wake up in the room. He wasn't sure if anyone had simply moved him there so
he could sleep without being in anyone's way, or if he'd been sleepwalking again and just stumbled in there
by mistake. Mr. Smith explained that the room was originally going to be a large storage closet
for various arts and crafts-related supplies, but was never finished due to budget cuts.
He wrote in his reply that his aunt didn't want the area to go to waste, so they decided to
use it as a means to punish misbehaving children. Now, in his opinion, somebody probably
bought a dog costume and would wear it while terrorizing any children sent into the room as a means
of installing fear of punishment into their minds.
I sent one last email to Mr. Smith,
thanking him for taking the time to reply to my messages.
How the whole thing about Happy Sun Daycare was starting to piece together.
From what I gathered via the various interviews from both students and employees,
children who misbehaved were sent to a large empty space called the Grey Door Room.
There was a dog or possibly just someone in a dog costume
that would chase any child sent in there.
and finally that said child will be pulled to safety before the dog could cause any serious harm
so there was only one thing left to do i was going to head inside happy sunday care and investigate
the infamous gray door room for myself i had to see for myself if there was anything that could
solve this strange coverer several minutes passed as i drove out into the countryside and towards the
abandoned building i parked the car in the front driveway and took a few
deep breaths. The front door was unlocked, which was lucky for me. I gently pushed the door open
and began to look inside. The interior was dingy and covered in a layer of dust. Cobwebs spread
over various desks and chairs that hadn't been used in quite some time. A musty smell filled
the house and mixed with the odor of feces and urine from the rats that now made the place
their home.
It was nauseating to say the least.
After I explored several different areas,
I soon found the foreboding grey door
that was said to lead to the dreaded room.
The door was quite heavy,
and it took me several tries before I managed to force it open.
Just like how Alice had described,
the room was dark and empty with a dirt floor and a dingy bulb.
Said bulb had burned out long ago,
so I used an old desk to prop the door open,
in order to see anything.
I could see faint blood stains on the ground and on the wall,
but I couldn't tell who or what the blood belonged to.
There were also strange markings on the wall as well.
I took a closer look and could have sworn they resembled claw marks of some sort.
As I continued to examine the room, I noticed various footprints in the dirt.
Many were faded or had been trampled over one another,
but I could still make out a few.
Most of them were the footprints of children.
They looked like the children had been running away from something.
There was one other distinct set of footprints that caught my attention.
I examined them closely.
I could definitely make out the distinctive footpads, claws and individual toes on at least one of the prints.
This wasn't some person in their cheap costume.
Happy Sun Daycare had been using a dog to terrorise children.
I had to let people know what they'd been hiding for all those years.
However, as I made my way out of the daycare and to my car,
there was one aspect of those footprints that made me uneasy,
since when do dogs walk on two legs?
Children ought not to wander in the light of the crimson moon,
for it in the gloom of the sanguine sky that the hounds of hell roam the shadows,
hunting for innocent and lost souls on which to feast their fetid mocks.
Mother often spoke their ominous warning to my brother, Kalen, when we were growing up.
Even though it sent a chill down my spine to hear the words,
never really knew what she meant by it.
Every few years, when the time of the red skies came,
there were never any signs of skulking and demonic beasts seeking to scoop us up.
On the contrary, Mother and Father held fantastic parties.
Several of the grown-ups from our church would come, dressed in the finest suits and the most beautiful gowns.
They would dance and sing, laugh and drink brandy.
Nasty stuff, brandy.
A boy from our church dared me to drink a sip a few years back, and I spat it out almost immediately.
This year it was decided that Kalin was too big for Mother to carry around all night.
As such, he became my responsibility.
I was to watch him and take care of him, while the grown-ups attended the puns.
party. The night drawled onwards, music ringing out from the parlour and filling the house
with an air of otherworldly enchantment. My brother and I, along with four other children,
stayed in the basement and entertained ourselves with games and told rhymes around Kalyn Zoetrol.
It was around three hours past midnight when the garnet moon was painting the sky into its deepest
burning shades, but we all began to separate and grow tired of each other's company.
Kaylin and I had gone off by ourselves to a secret play area we'd previously established in the storeroom by the kitchen.
Here I idly toyed with my collection of marbles while Kalan watched absent-mindedly from atop a wooden crate in front of the lone, plain window.
Windows were in every way off limits during the cycle of the red moon.
The more public rooms of our home were blocked off with lovely silken sheets that mimic the hues of the sky outside.
Under no circumstances was one to even catch a glimpse of the night outside.
This was another rule that I never fully understood and saw,
no real harm in letting my Purole sibling violate.
And so, I resolved to share a special moment of secret rebellion with Caelan,
where we could peek out at the vermilion horizon and take in sights we were never meant to see.
Bappy!
Kaelan cooed excitedly, and suddenly, startling me out of the moment.
of the near hypnotic allure of the city beyond our window.
I quickly scanned the area for the pup
that had drawn my young sibling's attention,
but saw nothing.
I assumed he'd spied one of the wild muts
that occasionally wander into town after dark in search of food.
I excuse myself to the restroom
after trying in vain to coerce the four-year-old to accompany.
How much trouble can one toddler get into
inside a small pantry?
I convinced myself,
and with that I made my way out down,
the hall to relieve myself. It was only while washing up after, and a strange sense of creeping
anxiety took a hold of me. I quickly made my way back to the pantry, telling myself along the way
that I'd had enough of tonight's celebration, and it was high time Kaylin and I had gone to bed.
When I opened the door to the pantry, my heart plummeted and sent waves of cold terror coursing
through me. Kaylan was precisely where I'd left him, standing on the old crows.
gazing out through the window, which was now raised to its fully open position.
But it was what stood beyond the window, gazing back at him that had stolen my senses and
frozen me in an icy panic.
Just outside the wide portal lurched a massive beast.
It was covered in matted, greasy black fur, and its long snouted face resembled that of a
hound or a wolf. The window stood around two metres up from the floor and was itself around that
height. The dog-like thing snouched severely on its hind legs and must have stood more than four
meters tall and fully upright. The thing's long sinewy forelimbs hung down and seemed to almost
reach the ground. Worst of all were the beast's eyes. Milky grey and seemingly long dead,
they stared vacuously at my brother.
The things seemed to sway softly as it eyed Kalan, and to my horror its drooling, filthy moor had twisted into what I could only describe as a sick, malicious grin.
I stared, paralyzed in pure terror, for what seemed like ours.
Before I knew it, however, reality caught up with me in a crashing, torrential tidal wave of pure terror.
With a blinding speed, the thing snapped forward and caught Kalen between his small neck and shoulders,
with its massive jaws, and whipped him through the window and out into the night.
Shaken from my delirium, I raced to save him, but could not cross the distance in time.
In an instant, the small screaming child and his hulking bestial captor had disappeared into the dense alleyways beyond our health.
I choked out a sob for my brother. He was my responsibility, and I had failed him.
an inferno of pure hatred for the thing
and for my own failures burn through my veins
riding the adrenaline high
I race blindly through the house
before I'd fully realised my actions
I found myself marching out of my parents' master bedroom
father's flintlock in hand
was when I passed the parlour on my way back to the window
where that thing had stolen my brother
that I paused
I'd heard mother's inebriated laugh to sound
running out among the sounds of music as well as the dull roar of her guests.
I sighed solemnly.
The adults would be of no help.
Most of them that I could see could barely stand, let alone track a beast through the winding streets of town.
If they even believe me to begin with, that is.
Setting my jaw, I continued back to the pantry and, after only a moment's hesitation,
climbed out of the window and into the cobblestone alley beyond.
Looking around, I shuddered.
The sound of my footsteps reverberating off of the cold stone wall sent anxiety's cold fingers
tickling up my spine.
I saw, to my dismay, a well-defined trail of Kalen's blood spattering off into the distance.
My grip on the pistol tightened, and I followed the dog-like things trail.
I would get my brother back, I thought, and if not I would kill the abomination that took him from me.
even if doing it and also doing it alone, men that I might not come back.
The twisting alleys and paths of the town felt ever more labyrinthian in the ruby glow of that sickeningly sinister blood moon.
Shadows loom long, threatening to swallow me into their outstretched grass.
With every sharp angle, my heartbeat faster, anticipating that horrid mongrel beast to leap out and claim me like it had, Kael.
My spine went rigid and my blood turned to ice as a long, discordant sound rang out and echoed over the rooftops.
It took me a moment to recognise it as a kind of unholy amalgam of a scream and a best ill howl.
It had to be the thing that had taken Kalen.
Taking a deep breath, I set out at a light jog, determined to find the horror before it crawled back into whatever fetid pit it had come from.
I trotted up the stone steps to the town's main square.
As I came to the top, I got my wish,
and dear God, how I wish I hadn't.
The dog-like thing was there.
It's back to me.
I could see the sickly, mangy flesh running up its spine.
Hair, I suppose, fur,
clustered itself in matted bunches
and glinted wet in the red lunar light.
I could see now that its legs were as unnaturally long
as its arms had been
when I'd first laid eyes on it.
It was hunched over something, someone,
and its gangling limbs lurched out at awkward angle
so as to bring its face low.
I stalled myself and crept slowly toward the feasting creature,
raising father's flintlock level to my eye
and aimed directly at the beast's centre mass.
As I neared, the thing seemed to jerk its canine face to the side,
and letting it a kind of mucusy hacking
as if some thick eau were caught in his throat
with his head pulled away
I could see just who it had been gorging itself on
Kalen's pale face
frozen in a mix of agony and horror
gazed at me from beneath the crouching giant
blood vessels in his right eye
had broken giving in a bulging black look in the shadows
his face bore monstrous gashes down one side
and his silvery blonde hair was caked in gau.
Below the neck it was hardly possible to distinguish as a body.
Visera and half-tued organs lay in a loose pile.
The pool of my baby brother's blood had seeped into the cracks of the cobblestone
and began to spread in awkward geometric patterns.
I let out a sharp gasp at the sight of Kalen's mutilation.
Immediately the greasy dog-like creature's long ears perked up
and its head snapped impossibly fast to face me.
The creature's more curled into that same sickening grin I'd seen before
it had taken Kalen, and its body slowly shifted in my direction.
From deep within its throat a guttural, almost chuckling sound crept out
and wove tendrils of chilling fear throughout my being.
I caught the hammer of Father's flintlock
and desperately tried to steady my tremorous hands.
The dog-like beast reared up on its hind legs and stood to its full height,
its spine and joints letting out a stomach churning series of cracks and snaps.
Turned its head to gaze at the crimson moon and inhaled deeply,
the posture-ridden, greasy skin of its underbelly expanding and splitting in places as it filled its lungs.
The thing returned its gaze to my frozen form,
and unleashed a terrible roar, whose sound was only made worse by,
the reverberations off of the stone walls and pathways of the square.
The sound warmed its way deep inside my skull,
threatening to shred my eardrums with the same veracity and savagery
that the beast itself were torn into Kalen.
I felt a wave of dizziness and a queer sense of nausea
while the thing howed its nightmarish cry.
Before I knew it, my legs had gone limp
and the earth quickly rose up to meet my fainting body.
The shadow is rushed in from the corners of my vision
to claim me. I used every bit of strength I could muster to squeeze the trigger of the pistol,
sending a shot, lightning fast into the monster's shoulder, and causing it to shriek in pain.
The ringing echo of the gunshot, mixed with the dog-like bellows, fused awkwardly together
and faded out in time with my steadily receding consciousness.
The morning after was, for the most part, a haze.
A constable woke me and returned me to my home
where I was examined by our family physician.
The news of Kalen's death
was broken to mother and father,
who collapsed at the loss of their son.
I told my mother my story
of how the dog-like thing had taken Kalan
and how I'd gone to rescue him.
She only cried harder and cursed my idiocy.
I tried for nearly a quarter of an hour
to get any information on just what the beast was
and why it had taken my brother.
I also couldn't comprehend just why nobody was talking about the mangled,
horrible state his body had been left in.
It was as if nobody cared, or at the very least, weren't surprised by it.
She never faltered, however.
She never spoke a word.
It was at Kalen's funeral that things began to feel more real,
and less like the wispy fog of confusion that arises when trying to recall a dream.
The family was gathered closest to the coffin as Kalen was lowered into the ground.
The nearest us were our close friends and members of our church.
I remembered peeking around during the final prayer and seeing someone peculiar standing off in the distance beneath a gnarled oak tree.
We made eye contact and he seemed to acknowledge me in a way as if to express his contonances.
The man beneath a tree was the former reverend of our church.
I didn't know much about him, as Mother said he'd been excommunicated nearly sixteen years prior.
She never explained the reason for his removal, just that he was an unclean soul and not fit to lead a congregation as tight-knit and devout as that of our church.
Reverend Dutois had become something of a local boogeyman in a time since his separation from the church.
Children pass stories around that if you misbehaved or wandered into the streets at night that Dutois would snatch you up and take you back to his estate on the hill,
overlooking town.
Rumors could occasionally be heard that he'd bought strange herbs and ingredients from the town
apothecary and conducted strange experiments deep in the bowels of his home, but nobody could
ever say for sure that this was the case.
It was always an instance, a friend of a friend of a friend told me.
Seeing Dutoir at a funeral wasn't particularly odd, especially given that he'd known
my parents during his tenure at the church.
One thought did strike me as peculiar, however.
and had teased the
coolness of my thoughts during our return home.
It nagged at me just enough
that before the sun had begun to set
in the amber evening sky,
I had again climbed through my window
and crept my way through town.
As I stood at the base of the hill,
atop which dutois's decrepit old estate rested,
eyeing the torn, twisted state of the front gate,
was only more certain of my suspicions.
When I'd eyed the aged man at the seminary,
his right arm and shoulder had been wrapped in a sling.
The same arm that I'd shot the beast in.
As if to cement my growing hunch further,
the bandaged fabric was noticeably stained a deep red tinge.
Of course.
That's why he'd been removed from the church
and why the townspeople vilified him.
That's what mother meant when she called him unclean.
Du Trois was the dog-like thing that took my brother away from me.
Whatever rituals he practiced, whatever experiments he was attempting, I would make him face justice for what he'd done.
I would confront him.
Reverend Dutois's home bore an even stronger sense of disrepair upon closer inspection.
Stonework was moss-ridden and cracked.
The wood of the front porch appeared dry in skeletal, as though he could crumble to dust and ash at any moment.
The windows, however, were fitted with thick iron bars that the windows,
felt starkly dissimilar to the rest of the ancient structure.
A circle the outside wanting to ensure an inconspicuous point of entry
in order to catch the vile man-beast off guard.
As luck would have it, a small, almost child-sized window in the structure's basement
stuck out around the back of the house and was unguarded by the thick wrought iron of the other portholes.
Sharp, weedy grass poked and cut at my arms as I tried to force the window open.
Despite my pulling, however, the glass would not come free.
In frustration, I struck out at the window pane, resolving to shatter it and forego my element of surprise.
To my horror, the window did not shatter, but instead collapsed inward,
my forward momentum pulling me down into the hazy shadows below.
I cascaded down, further than I'd anticipated the cellar to be,
and crashed hard onto an old wooden table, splintering it into two with the dark,
the force of my impact.
My head rang out, my body cried in agony.
I'd landed awkwardly on my wrist and felt a sharp snapping as my weight collapsed on top of it.
I tried desperately to subdue my cries of pain, but to no avail.
Surely the reverend had heard the clatter and would find himself upon me any minute.
The thought of being discovered by the wretched holy man fuelled my body with an adrenal intensity,
forcing me to my feet and to stagger my way toward any kind of exit.
Feeling around in the murk, I eventually came upon a thick iron door.
I leaned against the cold metal and tried to catch my breath before continuing,
only to be met with a sound that set my teeth on edge.
The sound of a woman's soft sobbing.
I listened intently for a moment and, yes, I could clearly hear a quiet whimper coming from the room
beyond the thick metal door.
I felt around blindly for a handle
and pulled hard.
The door rattled noisily in its frame.
It had been barred from the outside.
Fumbling frantically, I removed
the heavy wooden door jam and pulled once more.
The hinges groaned in protest before giving away,
and the heavy metal cried awfully
as it slid against the old stone floor.
I'd completely forgotten about being noiseless,
and was almost entranced by the weeping woman.
When the door was open wide enough for me to fit through,
I slipped inside and felt my stomach drop with such force
that I had to lean back on the frame to study myself.
The room was dimly lit by a lantern sitting on a table to my immediate left.
The surface was also riddled with glass files of varying sizes,
each containing different liquids.
In the dull light I could see that most appeared thick and viscous,
and no two were the same colour.
There were surgical utensils as well,
rusted scalples, blades,
and hyperdurbing needles making up most of them.
There were books opened at seemingly random pages,
depicting intricate and complicated-looking formulae.
In the centre of the room,
a large medical table was covered in sheets
that were stained with what appeared to be large, dark splotches.
The floor surrounding the table was spattered with dried blood.
Beyond the table, bound by large shackles at her wrists and ankles, was a young woman, a teenager.
Her open hair hung down into her face and looked as though it hadn't been cut in years.
She was wearing a dingy nightgown that I was sure had been white long ago, but had now been ruined with grime, sweat and other bodily film.
Her skin had been rubbed raw where the shackles gripped her, indicating that she'd been imprisoned here for quite some time.
The exposed flesh looked sickly and infected, dotted by small postures that seemed to weep a foul
ickle if she moved too rapidly. As her head drifted wearily to her left side, I could see a distinct
and fresh wound that turned my blood to eyes. Between her breast and collarbone was a deep,
circular lesion surrounded by blackening, bruised flesh. This girl had been the victim of a gunshot.
I swallowed hard and the girl looked up at me
Her eyes were sunken
Small trails of blood trickled from her tear darts
Her pupils had collapsed
Giving her eyes an inhuman
Andimalistic look
Only accented by the bulging blood vessels in her sclera
The pale skin of her face seemed to be stretched thin over her skull
She looked like she hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks
I expected her to be relieved that seeing someone who could help would start her begging me to free her,
but she only glared at me with a feral intensity.
When I reached out to her and tried to speak,
she flew into her rage and began screaming an unholy awful sound.
She floured her arms and kicked her legs, rattling her chains violently.
I felt my knees go weak and found myself crawling backwards on the floor in abject horror.
Her frenzy cries and while behaviour was made a million times worse by the fact her bond seemed to be giving away if ever so slightly.
I began to scramble for the door.
I wanted nothing more than to leave that cursed place, that horrible young woman, be home safe in my bed.
But as I grabbed for the handle, the door flew back against me, knocking me onto my back.
Reverend Dutois had burst into the room.
His dry, ancient voice now booming through the stone room.
At the sight of me, however, his shouts died in his throat.
His pale grey eyes grew wide with panic,
and his already pale skin became that much more paled
as the blood rush from his face.
You!
The question croaked out of his throat as he extended a long skeletal finger in my direction.
You cannot!
He said more firmly,
that the mask of confusion never left his wrinkled face.
We stared at each other for a long time,
all the while the chain girl continued her caterwauling.
Her name, he whispered solemnly,
with eyes sinking to the stone floor beneath him.
Her name is Coleta.
She is my daughter.
I know she hurt that young boy.
He said, pausing.
He was not the first.
I know she would have hurt you as well had you not fired on her.
The man raised his gaze to stare at the open hair girl and tears welled in his aged eyes.
She doesn't mean to hurt, my collector, he said.
She's sick, you see.
Plague runs in her blood.
Curse she is.
I've tried for years to help her to take the sickness away,
but with every blood move, she gets harder and harder to control.
The man slowly removed an overcoat, again revealing his bandaged arm and went's noticeably as he undid the rapid.
His arm had been goused in three deep, rough slashes that could only have been made by very sharp teeth or claws.
The wounds oozed a trail of milky pus as he moved.
They were clearly infected, and, judging by the tentacling black veins beneath his thin skin,
I didn't think he had much of a chance of surviving.
Du Trois stepped over me, his long-leaves swinging silently as he did, and made his way to the chained, wild form of collector.
She screamed and roared at him, gnashing her teeth and sending a spray of spittle across her father's face.
He cupped her cheek, being careful not to lose a finger in the process, and started humming softly to her.
It was a tune I recognised vaguely, though, to place it proved impossible.
The latest fit steadily calmed as he sank, until her head drooped low and her body relaxed.
He kissed her softly on the forehead and whispered something indistinct into her ear.
After wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned again to face me.
He walked softly toward me and extended a hand to help me from the floor.
Come, he said, let me make you some tea and we can get you back to your parents, no worse for where.
and with that he strode calmly past me into the cellar beyond.
I did not follow.
I reached out to the warped work table and firmly grafted a jagged, rusty scalpel.
The reverend stopped just beyond the large iron door,
and a cold stillness engulfed the air between us.
I saw him draw in a shuddering breath and quietly plead.
Don't!
My blood burn hot as it pump how,
through my veins I knew what I had to do I come here to confront the thing that killed
Kalan and here she was bound and waiting being protected by only a frail old man
time seemed to slow and I pivoted on my heels breaking for the dog thing this man
called Kaleta the Reverend Belly had time to turn around before I clear the distance
and drew the blade across the girl's throat to
Choir screams echoed around me, and always seemed to drown out the sound of a single gunshot.
Shocked, I looked back at the ancient man as my brain tried to make sense of what had happened.
He stood in the doorway, tears pouring down his face.
And his left hand was an old flintlocked pistol, smoke dancing eerily from the barrel,
a barrel which had been pointed straight at me.
I looked down and saw a steady stream of beautiful crimson pouring from my abdomen.
I returned my gaze to the reverend before collapsing to the floor.
My body felt cold as the life began to drain from me.
There wasn't any pain, just a rapidly encroaching chill,
unlike anything I'd ever felt before.
My vision seemed to tunnel in on itself,
until I locked eyes with the fading light of Colleta.
There was little expression to be gleaned from those amber pearls,
but I thought I could detect a kind of peace in those inhuman collapsed pupils of hers.
As the darkness closed around me,
I swore I saw the faintest hint of a contented smile across her lips.
I don't know exactly what transpired after I'd lost consciousness.
When I woke up the next day in the town's surgery,
people didn't want to say much and mostly just told me to rest.
From what I was able to drag out of a nurse and a few others
that had stopped in to check on me.
Du Trois' gunshot and screaming had drawn the attention of a local vendor
who was attempting to call on the Reverend,
which had sent him running into town and raising an alarm with anyone he could find.
Townsfolk stormed the house and discovered Du Bois'ra cradling the now freed body of Coleta,
and had found me bleeding out on the floor.
When they tried to pry him off the girl's body,
he fought back violently with the same scalpel I'd used to rend her throat.
In the ensuing struggle, Du Trois was overpowered and killed.
His mournful cries, I was told, echoed in each man's head like a dying curse before he finally succumbed to his wounds.
The house and all traces of its unholy secret were burned to the ground after that.
People asked me what business I had in that house, and why the reverence saw fit to end my life.
But I said nothing.
My silence was chalked up to shock brought on by the traumatic experience.
No one questioned me about the girl with the open hair.
She was just treated as an unspoken detail, and that was all there was to it.
As for me, the bullet had done minimal damage.
The surgeon said that the shot was one in a million,
missing vital organs and sparing me from nerve and spinal damage.
I made a full recovery in time,
that when it rains or when I stop to think about it too much,
the old wound cries out, refusing to be forgotten.
I still think about Kalen, of course.
It pains me to know that you'll never get to grow up.
Instead, I try to live my life in honour of the boy.
I spend as much time as I can trying new things,
even those that frighten me,
because I know Kalen will never get you.
I can cherish the memories for the both of us.
I still don't fully understand the reasons behind what happened.
Perhaps it's better that way.
The thing that took him away from me was gone.
Burned to ash and buried beneath a mound of rubble.
Destined to be forgotten.
So, those that know me and know what I do,
call me the cleaner.
I'm what you might call a bounty hunter.
except I deal with very special cases
stuff that nobody else can really handle
I seek out the filth
the other worldly beings
even what you might think of as supernatural
and I terminate it
I don't discriminate
I don't hesitate
I just squeeze the trigger
I'm not open for hire
I only take contracts from one person
No, I can't bring you into the fold.
It's something you're born into,
and there's only ever a handful of us alive at a time.
I can't go too far into the details,
but I am allowed to say this.
It all starts with a slip of paper,
usually an envelope in the mail.
Sometimes, though, in very rare cases,
I will get a letter in person.
I call her star.
She's not allowed to tell me her real name.
And no, star isn't her codename.
Traditionally, someone like her would just be called a messenger.
Nothing else.
That is all they are.
I call a star, though.
She has a real bright personality.
Figured it fit.
Now, I'm going to share a story with you all.
Not that I'm really a storyteller, so you'll just have to forgive me if the format is weird.
But I'll let you in on my life.
Feel back the curtain just a little.
I had a case a few years back.
Started, like I said, with a knock at the door,
which always gets my heart pumping.
You see, we cleaners don't have friends,
and we don't visit each other.
So a knock at the door can only mean one thing.
Star is there waiting with a special case.
I unlocked the deadbolt,
grab the cold door knob, and slowly edge the door open.
There was Star, as expected.
greeting me with a huge smile she always wore on her face.
Morning, Mr. Clean. How are you doing? she asked politely, moving her bangs out of her eyes.
I returned the smile in motion for her to enter.
Still alive, so I'm doing better than most of the people I know.
We made our way into the kitchen, and I poured her a glass of water, something I always did for a messenger.
I want to take a wild guess
And assume this isn't a social visit
I handed her the glass of water
Oh, thank you
She took the glass and sipped on the water
Before reply
You know, one of these days I'm just going to pop by
To hang out
It was a nice thought
But I knew it could never happen
It's against the rules
and no one breaks the rules.
But you are right.
She pulled an envelope from her back pocket.
This one is going to be a toughie.
There were two pictures.
Usually I got only one.
She placed them on the table.
The photos were of two monstrous-looking beasts,
hairy and huge.
I instantly recognized what they were.
and immediately got a pit in my stomach.
Star must have noticed because she responded with a reassuring pat on the back.
Oh, you can do it.
They were lichenthrocks, or more commonly known as werewolves.
They're about as tough as it gets.
Yeah, probably, but two.
Really?
I shook my head inside.
Am I to, um, take them on alone?
Yup, and we both know what that means.
She paused to drink more water.
They're mating, so we're going to need you to deal with this as quickly as possible.
Can't be giving them a chance to separate and disappear.
Ligensthropes are pretty much what they appear to be like in the movies.
Vicious, strong, fast, practically the perfect killing machine.
However, in real life, they don't have any special weakness.
They die the same way as everything else.
The best way to do it is blood loss.
Explosive work well too, but that can tend to get messy, and you might blow yourself up too.
I prefer hidden run tactics, and that's a problem when there's two though.
You have to severely injure both of them before they have the chance to rip you to shreds.
It is preferred to take them out before they have the chance to morph.
But you've got a 50-50 on that though.
Normally you won't see two in the same place, because they are extremely territorial.
I groaned again.
Oh, fuck.
All right, I'll do it.
Give me two weeks, tops.
If I don't check in, I'm dead.
Contact two, if that happens.
She can take over the case.
I'll doubt it'll come to that.
Star always has confidence in my abilities.
You always come out on top, one way or another.
I snick it.
Yeah, well, just give me the details.
The sooner I plan this suicide mission, the better.
I was awarded a laugh from staff.
Yes, sir.
So, here's what we got.
So, of course.
I can't actually go into the details of the locations
and the contacts we used in the area.
All I can say is that the events went down
in a town in the United States.
I'm sure the more curious of you
will try to search for news reports and whatnot,
but I promise you that you're not going to find anything.
Any shred of evidence that was there is gone.
My family has been doing this for a very long time.
We're a lot better at this than you are.
You will find nothing.
Now, when a cleaner goes looking for information,
there's really only one thing that can give you reliable facts.
An imp.
That's what we call them.
They don't really have a name in the English language.
They're half human and half, I guess what you would call, a demon.
They're about as close to human as monsters can get.
I know they may sound scary, but there's a reason we call them imps.
They're small, weak, feeble creatures.
The only thing they have going for them is their longevity.
They're pretty much immortal.
And only a handful of them are still living.
So, being that they pose no threat, we don't put them on the kill list.
Imps are good for one thing, and one thing only.
Information gathering.
Inns and outs, they know it all.
And for a price, they'll tell you everything you need to know.
So, when I arrived at the small town, I arranged a meeting with their local imp for
my contents. Naturally, he wanted to meet in a public place. The otherworldly aren't really
trusting of us cleaners. It was the middle of the day when we met. I spotted him sitting on a bench,
right in the middle of the park. So the average passerby, he might have looked like a small,
odd-looking little middle-aged man, not worth more than two looks. I instantly noted the signs,
however. Pointed left ear, hunched posture, one red eye and one blue. Imps all have the same
disfigurements. They can easily blend in with contacts and what not, though. You might even have
met one before, without even knowing it. I plop down next to him. Mind if we cut to the chase,
I'm grunted and turned to face me. His thick brows already.
he furrows. Yeah, you're all the same, you cleaners. Been dealing with you lot for over a century,
always impatient. Never enough time to chat, eh? He sighed deeply, obviously not wanting to be there.
I shrug my shoulders. Sorry if I don't ask you about the weather. I've got a job to do,
and neither of us gets paid by the hour. Now, tell me about the doggies.
The imb looked at me, eyebrows still furrowed, notably displeased with my response.
Oh, well, treating them like dogs will definitely get you six feet under.
I didn't respond, silently encouraging him to continue.
There's two of them. They're young, early, maybe mid-twenties.
They're going to be strong, but you've got to get the upper hand with experience, I would think.
He paused as a mother and her rather chubby kid passed by.
Three victims so far.
But they were all human, so they won't be ready for something like you.
He scratched his hairy chin and looked at me with his miss smashed eyes.
The female's name is Karen.
The other, Brandon.
And where are Karen and Brandon staying?
I inquired.
There's a lodge in the woods.
East, all the way at the back.
They're on private property.
They stay there on the weekends.
He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
Are we done yet?
I need a nap.
Last question.
Why haven't they been caught yet?
Three's a lot of missing people.
The imp was quick to respond.
They only take homeless.
People that won't be missed.
And before I could get anything else, he was up on his feet hobbling away.
Good luck, cleaner. You're going to need it.
Can't say I'll miss you if you die.
He cackled as he walked away.
Charming creatures.
He was right, though.
I'd need all the luck.
Killing one werewolf is difficult.
Killing two approaches the impossible.
You have to plan.
Weigh the risks heavily and hope that it all goes smoothly.
And it has to go smooth.
Baring that in mind, I rested up.
Got familiar with the terrain,
and eventually I found myself hiking through the thickest parts of the forest a few days later.
It was dark, not a single hint of moonlight was able to push its way through the thick canopy.
I decided that it would be better to take them out,
after daylight hours. By then, they would have their next victim already, and the feast would have
begun. Wherwolves are emotional creatures, so I could only hope they were caught up in the ritual.
Pitiful that I had to let a civilian die in the process. Well, not all hunts are without collateral
damage. I reassured myself. Took about half an hour of wading through the thick trees,
before I started approaching a clearing.
I could see the small cabin in the distance.
At first glance, it was quite homely looking.
Wooden walls, a fireplace smoking.
Even a sign that said, welcome.
There was one thing that did break the illusion, however.
The screams.
The bone-chilling screams of a man whose flesh was being peeled from his bones.
I could see him, laying on a table, arms and legs strapped down, a man and a woman standing over him.
The man had a large blade and was slicing through his skin like it was butter.
They were chanting in an old language, one that doesn't even have a name.
Their voices were guttural, in a deeper pitch than humans were possible of making.
It was the mating ceremony.
They flay the victim alive, eat the skin, drain the blood into buckets, and then smear themselves in the blood.
It was a sick and twisted ritual, and I didn't give them the chance to finish it.
I looked down the iron sights of my rifle, picking my first target, the male Brandon.
The first shot ripped through the forest until it found its mark.
The bullet tore through the man's chest, stopping his heart in an instant.
Blood spattered on the ground as he slumped to his knees and fell to his face.
Karen reacted almost instantaneously and dashed behind the trees to the right of the house.
I expected that, though.
Werewolf reflexes were remarkable even when in human form.
I already knew what would happen next.
She would change.
become the monster I was sent to kill.
The werewolf transformation is a slow,
excruciatingly painful process.
So I've heard at least.
Bones grow and break to morph the body into a massive beast.
Hair stabs through the skin,
creating roots where none existed before.
Their teeth all fall out and one by one are replaced by vicious fans.
fingers and toenails are pushed out.
In their place only sharp bones remain.
Twice as long, strong and sharp.
Close quarter combat against them is, well, a terrible idea.
Almost always fatal.
I sighed and checked my surroundings.
There were no signs of Karen.
Maybe she...
An abrupt, inhuman screech tore through the forest.
It was distant, but they were known for their ability to cover ground fast.
Everything got quiet after that.
Oh, I could feel the tremor in my hand already.
Her transformation was complete, and I had just killed her lover.
Again, they are very emotional creatures,
passionate to their very core.
I emptied the chamber of my rifle and pushed another round into it.
It wasn't human anymore.
Slowly I started making my way towards the lodge,
taking care not to make the slightest of sounds.
I was inching my way to the ritual table.
Help me.
I could hear the man croak out as I neared.
They're going to kill me.
Please help me.
His voice was getting weaker.
I looked over his bloody mess of a body, or at least what was left of it.
You need to call an ambulance.
His breathing was more laboured now, wheezing as his lungs fought for oxygen.
I rested my hand on his forehead.
Oh, it's going to be all right.
Close your eyes.
I'll take it from here.
He tried to say something more, but his eyes slowly drifted shut, and his breathing eventually stopped.
It was a shitty way to die.
I let my eyes trail down to the other dead man.
Brandon, the lichen throat.
He was young.
Brown hair, blue eyes, and a hole in his chest.
On the surface level, you can't even tell that they aren't human.
There's no giveaway like there is with the imps.
Werewolves are hard to find, unless, of course, they've morphed and are hunting you.
I nudged him with my boot.
No movements.
Good, I thought.
I stepped over his body and moved towards their cabin.
I had to shut myself in.
I needed to trap the beast.
I opened the door slowly, pushing it with my rifle, making sure to close it behind me.
The fireplace was still lit, making the shadows dance on the walls.
Very homely indeed, I said absent-mindedly.
And it was.
There wasn't much to it, but it was nice.
A sofa and recliner by the fire.
A kitchen past that.
no TV though I look back at the dead body outside I guess they had other interests
there were paintings on the walls mostly of wolves in the such Brandon's signature was on all
of them guess he was a painter when he wasn't busy being a werewolf another screech tore through
the forest much closer this time
It was stalking the tree line, deciding how to attack.
I snapped back to the task at hand.
Right, best get to it then.
I needed to immobilize the beast.
I smiled as I dropped my duffel back to the floor
and set aside two large bear tracks.
Even a lichenthrop can't ignore steel teeth biting into its bones.
I placed one by the door.
maybe five feet away and one by the window next to the fireplace.
This ought to do.
I waited and I waited.
Three hours went by before I heard it again.
The beast was smart to wait that long.
I was tired and the recliner was definitely helping me to fall asleep,
especially with the warmth of the fire.
However, the second I heard it, my adrenaline kicked in.
to overdrive. It was circling the house, heavy footballs making solid thuds, made no attempt
to hide its presence, growling after every other breath. Werewolks are masters at stalking their
prey. You can only hear them when they want you to. It was no wonder she was able to get to
the house without me noticing. She wanted me, intimidated, and I wanted me.
I could hear the slow scraping of her talons as she carved into the house.
The low guttural growl as she grew bolder with each step.
Boom!
The cabin shook violently as something smashed against it.
Paintings fell from the walls.
My body trembled, and then it got quiet.
No more footsteps, no more growling.
It was in kill mode.
Shit.
Every hair on my body was at attention.
Goose bumps rose on my arms and the tremor in my hand returned.
All the experience in the world can't save you from the terror of a pissed-off lichenthrope.
I took a deep breath and slowly stood from the chair.
Rifle in hand.
I doused the fire and positioned myself in the center of the room.
equal distance to either of the traps
with the fire out it was dark
and hopefully it wouldn't see the bear traps
it was a deep
almost demonic thing to hear a werewolf talk
before I could react
the beast burst through the front door
I had to duck as the door flew past my head
and crashed into the kitchen
There wasn't much light where I could see enough.
Maybe eight feet tall, black fur, several hundred pounds.
Oh, it was frightening.
Muscles bulging, eyes glaring, fangs bed.
It was pissed.
At me.
I couldn't afford to waste a second, though.
I raised the rifle and opened fire.
Shot after shot.
three times I fired on the beast.
The attack barely phased it as it only walked closer.
The bullets ripped through his body, and blood slowly leaked out,
coating the monster in a crimson glow.
But it didn't care.
They're tough.
I just had to buy time, wait for it to step into the trap.
That's it.
Come and get me.
I shouted, squeezing the trigger once more.
The bullet hit its ear, and the beast roared in anger.
Just one more step, and I had the monster.
Yeah, that!
It stopped right in front of the trap,
and leaned forward so that its head was in the moonlight.
Ears flat against its wolf-like skull,
grey eyes staring me down,
and its bared fangs at me.
You.
It flung the bear trap to the side, causing it to clatter against the wall and snap shut.
Die now.
It roared menacingly, and before I could react it lunged at me, clearing the distance in one leap.
It swatted me like a fly and sent me crashing into the fireplace.
I hit hard and nearly cracked my skull open on the brick.
Her sharp claws had sliced through my vest like butter and gashed me up.
Everything was blurry and my head felt like it was swimming in circles.
I managed to push myself off of the ground.
I was greeted with another ear-splitting screech.
I felt my eardrums pop as I fell back against the fireplace.
Even across the room I could feel how hot its breath was and the smell.
It reeked of death.
However, I couldn't afford not to act,
so I reached for the pistol on my belt and opened fire again.
I was dazed, but I got lucky.
The bullet hit it in the head.
It wasn't enough to kill it, not by a long shot.
But it gave me a chance to move.
I could see it fall back and break the dining table it was next to.
It was disoriented.
And I used that to make my way to the window.
I stumbled as I walked, almost falling on the trap that I'd set earlier.
I lifted the glass plane and threw myself onto the window seal.
I let my body slowly slide out the other side.
I needed to put distance between us and formulate a new plan.
Oh!
My ankle erupted in pain.
I could hear an audible paw.
as the werewolf crushed my bone with its grip,
whilst also digging its sharp claws into my skin.
It had caught my leg just as I was sliding out.
Oh, you fucking bitch, I shouted.
My entire leg felt as though it was on fire.
I was in a bad spot, more or less dangling out of the window.
I could see its head sticking halfway out of the window now.
I fired multiple rounds into his jaw, not giving in a chance to finish a sentence.
The beast jerked his head back, smashing the top of the window as it did.
I felt my ankle slip from its grip and my head smashed on the ground as I fell onto the grass.
I couldn't stand.
My vision was fading, and the last thing I could hear was the beast pounding on the walls.
Oh, I groaned as I sat forward.
I was alive, but only barely.
I was in a puddle of my own blood, and I couldn't use my left leg.
Took me nearly ten minutes to stand up,
and another few to hobble over to the cabin window.
What was left of it anyway?
Karen, the werewolf, was seemingly dead.
I leave myself against the wall.
walls and peered inside. From what I could see, it looked as though the beast had bled out.
Several bullet wounds. A bear trap still clamped on its ankle. Guess you stepped on it right
before you snatched my leg. Even large pieces of glass sticking out of the back of its head.
Looks like you died trying to break the wall down, though. I pulled my burner out of my pocket and
dialed my only contact.
Mission is a success.
Gonna need a cleanup crew and a pickup for myself.
Oh, and bring Helga.
I'm hurt pretty bad.
I let myself slide down against the wall.
I drifted off looking at the stars.
They looked especially dull that night.
Took me a few days to wake up from that.
Spend even longer in recovery.
which doctors can only get you so far.
Well, that's the story for now.
You don't have to believe me, but I assure you,
some of the old legends are true.
I might write again.
I've got plenty to tell.
For now, though, I've got business to attend to.
Wake up!
His mommy ordered in a hushed but frantic whisper.
Troy, sweetie, we need to go.
Now. Troy hadn't been sleeping well, not really. He'd been listening, like he often did on the long nights, the nights when Daddy wasn't feeling well. On those nights, Troy knew he was expected to stay in his room with the door shut tight. He knew Daddy slept outside on those nights in the shed. He'd heard Mommy lead him out there, like she did most nights, before the sun had sat.
Then afterwards, it'd be okay.
She'd come back upstairs, slowly open his door, and lie beside him in bed.
They'd curl up close, and Mommy would pray for Daddy.
She would tell Troy that everything was going to be okay,
and that Daddy would feel better in the morning.
That was most nights.
That night was not most nights.
Troy knew because he could hear it in her voice.
in fact Troy believed for a moment that it was all a nightmare
he believed that because never in a million years would he have imagined
that his mummy could be afraid
i'm sorry mommy Troy said aloud certain that it had been his naughty
disobedience that had her so upset I'll go to sleep I
his mommy cupped her hand over his mouth
and Troy instantly became quiet she held a finger
to her lip, a signal Troy understood. She whispered to him,
You have to be quiet, baby. You must, okay? Not a word. Understand me?
Troy barely had time to nod before his mommy had lifted him out of bed by his armpits.
He clung tightly to her as she placed her hand gently on the base of his head, and in a moment they were off.
They moved quickly, yet cautiously, down the carpeted hallway.
She walked on air
And Troy watched as his darkened bedroom fell away
They took to the stairs
And Troy felt every step
As he bounced up and down in Mommy's arms
Where are we going?
He whispered
This made Mommy hesitate halfway down the stairs
She listened not to Troy
But for something else
There was only silence
She hissed in the
to his ear.
Sh, you have to be quiet.
Ashamed, Troy tightened his grip on Mommy
and buried his face in her red sweater.
They were off again, reaching the bottom of the stairs.
Troy watched everything they passed.
They rounded the corner on their left,
moving away from the empty dining room beside the stairwell,
on the right, down a short hallway
that led towards the kitchen and the living room.
Troy felt his eyelids growing heavy.
Being in mummy's arms filled him with warmth.
But as soon as they turned the corner,
he felt all the warmth fall from his hanging body.
Their swift motion had come to a stop
as his mummy froze a couple of steps into the kitchen.
She gasped and her fingers tightened on Troy's head.
He didn't know what had stopped her.
He couldn't have imagined that something held her there, cold and still, with nothing more than a simple gaze.
Troy could feel her heart trembling.
Troy felt naked in his mummy's grasp.
He wanted to turn to see what had made her stop, but he couldn't.
Mommy's hand held his head locked in place.
Troy could look at nothing but an empty living room, and the reflection of himself in the darkened,
TV hanging on the far wall. He saw himself there, dimly brightened by the moonlight that crept in
through the back door. He could see Mommy in the reflection too, and he saw her take one tiny step
backwards. He could see them both, but also something more. It was darker than the shadows.
And at first Troy couldn't be sure that it was anything at all. Maybe it was an illusion.
a trick of his overly imaginative and tired mind.
But then the shape took a step forward.
The silhouette became real, physical,
as the thing stepped into the light of the full moon.
In the dim reflection, Troy could only make out so much.
The vaguest outline of a head,
a spindly arm that seemed to grow out of the darkened walls like a tree root,
and a frame nearly too wide for the doorway it stood in.
It couldn't be true.
A monster stood inside his house.
That was it.
A nightmare.
Nothing more, nothing less.
It was horrible, but Troy knew what to do.
He only had to wake up.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he'd be back in his bed.
He'd be alone, but he'd be safe.
The monster would be.
be gone and so he tried he tried to open his eyes wake up from the awful dream but nothing happened he widened them
but the terrible vision before him remained the same the dark reflection had grown teeth that shone in the
night Troy couldn't open his eyes for he had never been asleep the nightmare became a reality
as his mommy whispered into his ear.
Close your eyes, baby.
The words ended, and mommy started to move.
But it felt like time still hadn't resumed.
For Troy, it was an eternity.
His mommy turned on a dime,
and she started to carry him back to the hallway they'd just come from,
but Troy hadn't closed his eyes.
The tiniest part of him still believed,
still prayed that he was asleep.
Maybe the terror of seeing the beast first hand would shock him awake.
The TV and its reflection fell away from view,
and Troy came face to face with the creature in the dark.
He still didn't wake up.
It couldn't have been more than a second,
but in that second everything changed.
There, beyond the kitchen, standing in the door,
doorway that led to the garage and the laundry room, it moved. With powerful legs, it had already
started sprinting forward, pushing its whole frame into the moonlight. Its black hair seemed to burn
on its skin like shadowy fire, and its long fingers ended in sharp, hooked claws. Its face
was like a man's, but elongated and complete with a twisted, evil smile. In the moonlight,
its eyes burned yellow like putrid embers.
Troy screamed.
His mom carried him,
but he watched around the corner for far too long.
Mommy had decided to return the way they'd come.
Whether she was heading for the stairs or even the front door,
Troy couldn't be sure.
The only thing he quickly became sure of was that none of it would matter.
As his vision hung on the corner of the hallway,
he'd seen the creature turn as the creature turn as the
kitchen fell from view it wasn't following them through the kitchen well not directly there
were two ways to the stairs through the hallway they were in now and another alternate path
that led straight through the dining room the creature was moving to cut them off
Troy wanted to tell his money but it was too late she'd already found out she screamed as
a thing emerged like smoke from the dining room right before them stretching its arms out wide to
bar them from the stairs and the front door Troy couldn't see it but he could hear it breathing
he could feel each breath warm and wet on the nape of his neck he even felt the air move as the
thing raised one of its hairy clawed hands no mommy shouted quickly turning about
out. She hunched herself forward, keeping Troy safely beneath her, but leaving her back exposed.
The motion was so fast that Troy believed that the monster had struck nothing but air.
Mummy's scream told him otherwise. Narrowly missing Troy's hands, the creature had cut straight
down his mummy's back deep into her flesh. Blood dripped down her back, soaking into the
legs of Troy's pajama pants. Troy screamed once more. The blow had crippled her, but his
mummy hadn't given up. Still standing, she started carrying Troy back down the hallway, away from
the beast. Each step caused her to cry and gasp as she tried to take Troy away. All the while,
Troy watched over her shoulders in frozen fear. The thing had fallen on to her.
all four limbs now, and it storked them like a dog in the beams of moonlight.
His mummy was hurt, but the thing didn't finish her. Instead, Troy watched as the wolf-like
beast stork them slowly down the hallway. It took its time, savoring every tragic second,
savoring the hunt. A toothy, mangled smile covered its sickly face from cheek to cheek.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
In the creature's face, highlighted in the moonlight,
Troy noticed a similarity there, something he recognized.
In its face, he saw something impossible, someone impossible.
It couldn't have been, yet as Troy's eyes widened,
so did the creature's smile expand even further.
His tongue dangled from his tongue.
his mouth, wetting its human lips. Troy breathed. Then Troy felt his mommy's hand slip away from his
head. "'You're going to run, baby,' his mom said through gritty teeth. "'Go to the basement, baby.
"'Hide! You understand me? You—you hide, okay?'
Troy couldn't respond. "'What was she talking about? Why did he have to run?'
Wasn't she going to take him away?
She had to. He couldn't run, not on his own.
He had no choice.
Mommy had already dropped him onto the floor.
His legs gave out from underneath him,
for he hadn't been expecting to use them.
He could only look up from his place on the floor,
as Mommy's face twisted into an angry, wild look.
Her eyes still watered with uncertainty,
but her scowl was pure anger.
She reached into her sock
And she drew something long out of it
In a quick motion
His mommy turned on the beast
Yelling to Troy as loud as she could
Run!
The beast lunged for her
And they fell together into a squirming mass of hair and flesh
But Troy didn't see much more
He listened to Mommy
He ran
He sprinted through the king
kitchen, focused on one thing early, the basement door. It seemed far away, and behind him
he could hear both the painful screams of his mummy and the awful howling of the beast.
He didn't dare turn back, but his eyes were so full of tears it hardly would have mattered
if he did. Part of him worried, deep down, that the outcome of their fight had already
been decided. Mommy wasn't going to walk away.
from that fight. He reached for the basement door, turn the handle, and he threw himself into the
darkness inside. Pulling the door shut, he felt alone. Never before would the young child have
ever expected that the quiet basement would have felt so safe. The silence he found there
was overwhelming, but not unwelcome. Waiting halfway down the stairs, Troy listened.
He wasn't sure if the sound had simply been drowned out by the wooden door and thick floors,
or if something worse had happened.
It was that silence that allowed a single creek from upstairs
to strike his ears like the roar of a gunshot.
Gasping, Troy ran down the stairs,
feeling the cold of the basement's concrete floor against his toes.
He had to go.
somewhere, anywhere, but where?
Only a few small windows brought any light into the space,
not that there was much to see.
Boxes were scattered about, old and dusty,
and most were filled with his parents' old stuff.
He knew that hiding behind one of them was silly,
but he did so anyways.
Where else could he go?
There was a corner where his daddy kept his old home gym,
and it was open and exposed,
and near the stairs were some of Troy's old toys,
but nothing that would keep him safe.
So he hid by the far wall,
behind a large box and right beneath an elevated crawl space.
The creaking upstairs grew closer,
slowly but surely.
Footsteps.
They started above him,
by where his mummy had fought the creature,
and they'd started moving,
where Troy had feared. The creaking sounds were moving directly towards the basement door.
It wouldn't be any more than a moment now before Troy heard it. And he did hear it.
The twisting sound of the door knob and the light click as the latch was released.
The door moaned as it was pushed open and something stepped into the basement.
as the wooden stairs groaned.
Troy ducked back behind the boxes.
Whoever was up there on the stairs shut the door,
and then Troy started to cry as he heard them coming down the stairs.
It was the monster.
He was sure of it.
Never was there a doubt.
It would hear him crying.
It would find him, and it would eat him up.
Troy saw it play out in his head, the creature smiling the entire time with its big, nasty teeth.
He would die.
Troy.
Troy didn't believe it.
He couldn't believe it.
Mommy?
Troy looked around the box and she was there.
Her limp had grown worse, but it was certainly her.
It was his mommy.
She had survived and found him.
Troy came out of his spot.
Mommy, he said, running towards her.
Stop, baby.
He slowed and finally stopped.
His mommy was there all right, but she wasn't okay.
Something was certainly not okay.
Where is it, Mommy? he asked.
Where, Mommy?
I don't know.
His mommy said.
It ran off, but you need to hide, baby.
No.
Troy said, unable to see his mommy's face in the dark.
Can't we go?
We can go.
It's gone.
Please, Mommy, let's...
No.
His mommy snapped, clutching at her side.
He's not gone, Troy.
He's not going to leave us alone.
Perfectly on time.
A howl from somewhere outside echoed in the basement.
I can't be near you either, Troy.
Troy's mummy said, sorrowful and scared.
I can feel it, baby.
Troy watched as his mummy stumbled towards the basement wall.
He wanted to reach out to help her, hold her, hug her,
but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
It was the anger in her voice that held him at bay,
because it wasn't like his mummy to be mad.
No, it wasn't like her at all.
she collapsed to the floor taking strong deep breaths i'm getting sick now she said you understand me baby like daddy his mommy nodded just like daddy
troy remembered the beast upstairs and its face he shook as he asked it was that daddy his mommy his mommy his mommy
was still for a moment, several moments, and then she nodded her head. Yes, she said weekly.
And just like Daddy, Mommy's going to go through some rough changes, baby. Awful, awful changes
because he scratched me. You hear me? Mommy won't be safe to be around anymore. Do you understand me?
Troy didn't. He couldn't. It was all too much for his mind to handle.
but he nodded his head anyways.
He could barely see Mummy's face in the dark,
but he saw her tired eyes fall away from him
and towards the back of the basement.
The crawl space, baby.
Mommy pointed into the dark.
You need to get into the crawl space.
You can't get scratched or bit.
Do you hear me?
No, Troy said quickly.
It's too high, it's dark, and there's spiders up there, Mommy.
Don't make me go up there, please.
not in the dark mummy.
She shook her head, heaving and shaking as something invisible rippled through her body.
You have to, Troy.
You...
She grew silent for just a moment, as did Troy, as a shadow blocked the moonlight for just a second.
Troy turned his head up to the basement window.
Nothing was there anymore, but something had been.
He's coming back.
His mommy went,
And soon I will be too.
I'll be coming for you, baby.
You need to go.
But, Troy started.
But in a flash, Mommy whipped out her hand and pulled him in close.
She hugged him just for a second, and then she let go.
As they parted, her hands found his.
And Troy found a metallic object placed on his palm.
Troy looked down to see he was holding his silver dagger.
It was heavy and sharp
And it felt warm in his hand
Take that
His mummy said
Take that
And use it if you need to
Use it
Troy asked
He'd never been given a knife before
They were for big kids and adults
Not for little boys like him
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do
If mommy or if daddy
Comes for you then
You use it
You cut
mommy and daddy, okay?
Cut, Troy asked.
I don't want a mummy.
I don't want to.
You have to.
His mommy barked in pain and desperation.
Mommy's sick.
Daddy's sick.
Mommy's going to want to hurt you.
Don't let Mommy hurt you, baby.
Promise me.
You hurt Mommy if she tries.
Promise me.
Promise you'll be safe.
Troy nodded again.
Terrified as
his mummy started to shake and shiver in the corner.
Then go!
She shouted.
Go!
Climb on the boxes!
Get into the crawl space!
She gasped, collapsing forward, and Troy rushed to her side.
Mommy!
He shouted.
But she shoved him away so hard it sent him toppling back into a pile of nearby boxes,
dropping the knife on the floor.
He cried as he stood up, but his mummy was slipping quickly away.
She lay twisted on the ground, like she was fighting against her own body.
The whole time she spoke.
You need to go, you delicious, fleshy boy.
Troy stood, still weeping.
He watched as she shook upon the ground,
in the shadows of the basement, screaming and speaking.
With each word, her voice became more and more unrecognizable,
as a darkness took hold.
I won't.
You can make me kill the boy.
I'll kill him.
Eat him.
He is prey.
Pray.
Pray.
He will.
I love Troy.
I love Troy.
He is my dinner.
He will be dinner.
His blood will taste so sweet.
Sticky like syrup.
Rip off his arms, his fingers.
bite his legs. Help me. Nor on his skull. I'm so young, so tender. Oh, I want to eat. Troy,
run. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He couldn't leave her. He couldn't leave Mommy.
She was in pain. She was begging for help, and only Troy could hear. He had to help her.
He took a step forward.
at him and Troy froze. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. His mummy's brown eyes were still
there, but as she leaned forward into the moonlight, a rotten yellow reflected back at him. The
evil color shimmered and it smiled. Mommy had lost the fight. It was changing now, and Troy
couldn't turn his eyes as muscles, skin and bone twisted.
snapped and changed beneath his mommy's dark skin.
She should have been screaming in pain, but she only smiled.
Her eyes rolled back into her head,
her changing face, pulling her smile wider,
as if she were enjoying the rapid, disgusting change.
It was when her face cracked within and started to stretch
that Troy finally realized that he needed to move.
There was no time left.
Alone, Troy bolted towards the back of the basement.
There were boxes there tall enough for him to climb on, and he started to mount them.
He even managed to graph the cross-space edge when a horrible, shocking thought occurred to him.
He dropped the knife.
He didn't want to turn, but he knew desperately that there was no other way.
He noticed the knife's silver handle glittering within the moonlight,
and he also saw just how much his mommy had changed.
Her change was nearly complete.
Her clothes started to shred as she grew larger,
stronger, and the black coarse hair of a wolf started to sprout all over her body.
There was still time, but would it be enough?
He leapt from the boxes, and he landed with a smack onto the concrete.
He raced the knife,
never taking his eyes off the monster in the corner.
Troy avoided looking at the beast for only a second, only one moment,
just to make sure he grabbed the right end of the knife.
In that second, as he grabbed it, the change was completed.
When he looked up, the yellow eyes that used to belong to his mummy stared right at him.
Mommy was gone.
The monster was only a few feet away.
way. Troy should have run, he wanted to, but the two stood frozen and staring.
One was frozen in fear, and the other was frozen in pure anticipation.
Smiling, the beast waited considerably for Troy to make the first move.
Yet, the next move surprised them both. Troy took a step forward, knife in hand,
and eyes frozen shut in fear.
He swung the blade wildly.
It connected below the creature's eyes,
and Troy heard a sizzling hiss and a horrifying howl.
He spun around and charged towards the crawl space,
and once he reached it, he managed to hide within its darkness,
grasping the knife tightly before the beast had time to gather its focus.
The silver had hurt it, but its smile hadn't faded.
It looked like it was having fun.
Troy watched as the creature stalked about.
It didn't come straight for the cross-space.
Instead, it took a longer route about the basement floor.
It sniffed the air and circled the boxes like a shark.
Troy thought, naively for a moment, that it had forgotten where he'd gone.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he would be safe there after all.
He placed his hand on the wall, and he brought his head right next to the window in the cross-space.
Then it all went wrong.
With an ear-splitting screech, the other creature, lurking just beyond the house,
plunged its arm through the window.
Glass shards sprayed across the cross-space as the creature reached in, flailing and grasping wildly.
Troy fell back, screaming, as the other creature,
the one that used to be his mummy, had made a beeline for the crawl space.
The creature pounced into the crawl space and swatted at the intruder's arm.
The two growled at each other, and quickly they were at each other through the broken window.
Their faces, snouts, snapped and barked at each other.
Each sprang spit and rage, though neither noticed as Troy backed away.
He slipped away, further and further.
past the old boxes of Christmas decorations and ornaments, he found his corner, his last hope.
It was a space he'd found before, a little alcove that only the spiders and he could fit inside.
He moaned, feeling the sticky spider webs wrap around his head as he entered,
and he twitched as he felt one of them scurry across his neck with its sharp, spiny feet.
He squeezed himself in, deeper and deeper, feeling the dirt and bodies of dead bugs crunched
beneath his naked feet.
The two monsters fought, while he reached forward, grabbed the large torn box that held their
family Christmas tree, and, with all of his might, pulled it in front of the hole.
Alone in perfect darkness, he waited as the night dragged on.
Troy didn't sleep that night, even though he was exhausted.
Somehow, his hiding place had worked.
The sounds of the fight died down not long after he'd hit himself,
and beyond that, the basement had stayed silent.
The only noise he recalled was the sound of something moving on the stairs,
and Troy hoped, more than anything,
that it had been the sound of that thing moving on, giving up.
Time didn't move for Troy, at least,
not in any noticeable way.
He couldn't tell how long it had been,
but he cried silent tears,
for he knew that it had been long enough.
It had been far too long for this to be a nightmare.
Everything that he'd seen had been real.
His parents were gone.
Those tears flowed,
and they quickly became less silent.
They brought sound back to Troy's throat.
He trembled as he felt.
more spiders creep across his skin. Troy was alone, with only his quiet, groaning moans and the
awful spiders to keep him company. That was, until something moved the box out of the way with a
sharp snarl. Troy screamed, as the moonlight beyond highlighted not one, but two sets of glaring eyes
in the cruel space. The two, together,
found him. With his back against the wall, Troy brought his knife up, and he started swinging
wildly. He screamed at them, hoping his cries would make them think twice. Perhaps he could find
his parents in there somewhere, and he could bring them back and make them spare his life.
In their smiles, however, Troy saw that his parents were long gone. Only the beasts remained.
One moved in closer, the one that used to be his mummy, on all fours, and slowly it reached in after him.
Its deadly claws nearly reached him, when Troy sliced downwards with the blade.
The beast howled, swung its arm wildly, and unintentionally knocked his knife from his hand.
Troy grasped as it fell out of the alcove, and right by the feet of the other beast.
while the one that used to be his mummy groaned in awful pain
the one that used to be his daddy crept forward
it pushed the other one out of its way
and with a grin it reached into the space
Troy pushed himself back further and further
until he was sure his body could flatten and fit no more
the razors passed inches by his face in slow motion
and he noticed that the beast had to stretch.
It reached and reached, but he couldn't touch him.
He was out of its way, but just barely.
The claws fell by his belly, and they gently raked the shirt.
He realized they might snag it.
It would snag his shirt and pull him out.
So quickly Troy stopped his wailing and held his breath.
sucking in his gut
he pulled his shirt away from the beast
and it worked
Creatures Claus found thin air once more
and he heard it snarl
Troy was winning
and he was safe
but only for a short while
he would have to breathe again
when he did it would try and snag his shirt once more
all it had to do was wait
and Troy was certain it could wait longer than he could hold his breath.
The beast must have come to the same conclusion,
for its arm hung there in the open.
Its claw twitching, ready to snag the cloth.
Troy had to breathe.
He did, and the creature tried to snag his shirt, but it missed.
It roared in fury as Troy held another breath,
but it was no matter.
Troy knew it was a lost game.
He had failed, but what happened next was inevitable.
His face contorted as he thought about what his mummy had said earlier,
all the old things as she turned.
He saw her, recovered now, peering in behind his daddy.
They both waited, wanting the same delicious prize.
He hoped it will be fast.
He took another breath, but the claw fell away.
In fact, both of the creatures fell away,
releasing awful shrieks that Troy hadn't heard before.
They sounded like they were in great pain.
Both stumbled out of the crawl space,
and he heard them claps to the basement floor below.
They wailed and squirmed there for about a minute more,
and then they were silent.
Troy cautiously took the chance
And he seized the knife back
Retreating back into his hideout like a mere cat
He sat and waited
He waited and waited
Watching as the light filled the basement
He watched us somehow
It grew lighter and lighter
It took him a long time to realise that the light
Floating in wasn't from the moon
But from the morning sun
The night was full,
finally over.
Then he heard the movement on the basement floor, and he raised his knife.
Breathing heavy and fast, he watched with wide eyes as something moved beyond the ledge of
the crawl space.
Something with black hair.
He turned and looked at him.
Troy?
His daddy asked, confused.
Oh my God!
Troy, what are you doing up there?
Troy screamed wildly at his daddy as he stepped up onto the cross base.
Easy, buddy, he said, creeping forward.
Easy, Troy, come here.
It's okay, buddy, come on, come here.
Troy, are you hurt?
Let me see you.
Troy didn't see a monster, but he didn't lower his knife.
He felt like his arm had been frozen in place.
He didn't move as his daddy touched his arm,
and he collapsed limp as his daddy pulled him out of the crawl space.
It's okay, buddy, his daddy said, taking the knife away.
It's over, it's over.
He hugged him tight.
Troy hesitated, still unsure, but eventually he did hug his daddy back.
It was a warmth he never thought he'd feel again.
Troy?
Troy looked up to see him.
his mummy coming to her feet. She looked tired, ragged, and had a new scar running across her upper lip.
She brought her hands to her face, seeing Troy, and her tears spilled over.
Oh my God! She said, oh my God, you're okay, baby. Thank God you're okay.
She jumped up with them, joining in on the hug. Terrified, Troy closed his eyes and let the two embrace him.
It had taken most of the month, but the shelter was impressive.
It sat where the old shed used to be, and took up much less space.
The only part of it you could see was the entry hatch on the surface.
Fully submerged, his dad told him, holding his hand.
Steel, you could survive a nuclear blast in there, buddy.
You know how strong one of those is?
Troy nodded, smiling a little.
Isn't that cool? asked Dad.
Very, Troy said.
His dad patted him on the shoulder,
and the two exchanged a quick hug
before his dad moved down into the shelter.
On his other side, holding his other hand,
his mom was very nervous.
She looked to the red horizon,
and then to the shelter.
And finally, to Troy.
This is scary for me too, baby.
Troy looked at her,
and silently,
hugged her torso. She kissed him on the hand and knelt down beside him. You set your alarm?
She asked. I don't want you to be late for school. Yes, Troy said, looking at the naked dirt below.
You know where the key is, right? On the counter, Troy said, next to the toaster. That's right.
And as long as the sun is up, then it's okay to let us out. Now, don't you dare do it a moment too early.
But try not to forget us either, please.
His dad joked with a smile.
That too, baby.
You okay?
Troy looked up at his mom and into her brown eyes.
He nodded once, smiling.
Okay.
She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him once more for good measure.
It's time, Dad said sternly.
His mom nodded in agreement and offered Troy a quick smile.
See you tomorrow, baby, she said.
Good night, Troy.
Good night, Mommy.
She stepped down into the bunker, and Troy quickly went and shut the door.
Just like they'd shown him, he logged the latch, and he double, triple, and quadruple checked it.
They were sealed in their tight, and as the sun set, Troy entered the house.
His bed remained empty that night.
The house was empty inside.
silent. Troy had made his way down to the basement and he pulled himself up into the crawl space.
Pulling himself far inside, he squirmed inside the alcove, holding his knife close,
brushing away with ease the lone spiders that strayed across his skin.
He looked to the empty basement once before pulling over the heavy box.
He sat there all night.
listening to the hellish howls that echoed from somewhere outside.
Your Highness?
Called a meek voice from the corner of the long hall in which stood a tower of a man,
dressed in a World War I Russian military uniform,
high grey hair hanging loosely at the edges of his face.
Your Highness, I'm sorry we had to call you, but...
A wave of the hand of the larger man, who turned his attention to the...
source of the speech. Smiling, halted the meek voice. I'm sorry, I'm not used to, the smaller man
spoke with an apparent embarrassment in his voice. It's all right, Timothy. I am no longer a prince,
nor a grand prince. I'm just Vleslav Briachtyevich for you. The man spoke with an elegance
in his speech. When you are a
as old as I am, my friend. Fewer things seem to spark your interest. To be honest, these kinds of
things seem to be the only ones that make me experience some joy nowadays. He continued.
My apology, sir, it takes time to digest everything. I'm sure you're aware of that. I'm still not
quite used to you being a, well, a werewolf. The smaller man answered, sheepy.
I am not. I am a seer, a shaman, if you will, one of the few who still truly practiced the art.
We all have extraordinary skills. You will get used to the many odd things in this world if you
make it long enough. Vlaslav remarked, with a clear parental tone into his voice.
He was talking to an adult, but, at his ripe age of nearly a millennium, everyone
seemed to be a child.
I hope I do, sir.
Timurfei answered.
Ah, on to business.
Why was I summoned?
The former Prince of Polotskin quiet.
Yes, Timothy, who wore a neat butler uniform, responded.
Follow me, sir.
He gestured that the two of them should walk towards a room near the edge of the hall.
sir we have come across a being that poses a threat to our society and does not seem human the butler said as they began making their way towards the room
is that so the former prince questioned appears so unless someone acquired technology akin to ours it's impossible for a human to burn out the insides of another human being the butler retorting
I see. I assume you've sent a contingent of omega-level operatives to deal with said target, the former prince answered.
Omega, gamma, beta, and even alpha-level operatives, all of them never returned alive.
I see. Shameful. Truly sad, sir. The loss of human life is never the best of human life is never the
pleasant kind of news.
Indeed, but that's why we're here, my friend.
That's why this organization exists.
We do what we do to prevent the needless death of humans
as a result of abnormal threats.
The two men had reached the entrance of their designated room,
and a feminine voice had risen out of the room.
I wouldn't call your involvement in two world wars
and a myriad of other local conflicts between humans are part of that cause Vleslav.
Vleslav chuckled at the remark, before retorting,
As a former prince of these lands, I must protect them from all kinds of evils, Miss O'Reilly.
The feminine figure walked up to the two men, and handed Vleslav,
a folder which contained the information about the aforementioned contact between the organisation
and the suspected creature which resulted in the depths of many organisation members.
The file included the detailed autopsies of the deceased organisation members
and the grotesque photographs of their charred and disfigured corpses.
It appears it is the work of her.
The woman spoke before being cut off by Vlaslav.
Yes, seems like it.
He responded to her.
mid-sentence. His mind ran wild with what appeared to be fond memories of some event from the
distant past. Ah, it's been a while since I came across one of these. Vleslav reminisced to himself
quietly. I want to come with you. The woman's voice broke Vlaslav out of his nostalgia-induced
trance. This desk job is driving me crazy, Prince of Pallots.
She continued.
Ah, Ruby, I could never stop you from doing anything.
I'm not even going to try.
Make sure you don't die, however.
Veslov said, in response to the woman's demand to tag along.
Timothy, please fetch me my sword.
Ruby requested of the butler, immediately, miss.
And with that, the butler disappeared back into the darkness of the hall.
Ruby's green eyes had shimmered with excitement at the prospect of being able to work in the field once more.
She began chuckling to herself as she went to grab her long, black trench coat.
Save that mood for later, my lady,
Veslath said, as he watched his colleague walk around, gleaming with joy.
Hi, your majesty, she remarked as she moved past him and towards the doorway.
Veslav followed behind.
Once they stood in the hallway, her robotic voice called out through the intercom system.
Agents Likin and Banshi, please approach portal chamber SC173.
After you, my lady, Veslav gestured to Ruby to walk first towards their destination.
As they walked, neither of them let out a sound.
They were both people a few words, even fewer with each other.
Throughout their years of working, they developed a bond strong enough to formulate a sort of telepathic link between the two of them.
They did not need to speak to understand one other and cooperate in perfect sync.
Ruby threw her trench coat around her shoulders, and they walked towards the portal chamber.
Once there, Timothy approached Ruby, and handed her the weapon she,
she'd requested earlier, a customised nodachi.
Your weapon, miss.
Why thank you, Timofay.
Ruby thanked the butler,
as she took the Nadachi from his hands and held it over her shoulder.
She looked at Veslav, who was looking at her,
filled with pride that his pet project
had become one of the most successful agents in the organisation
and called out to him.
Shall we?
After you, my dear, the mountainous humanoid gestured once more.
Ruby approached the portal that would lead them to their target,
and as she looked at the swirling blue light emanating from the device,
she looked back at the staff, asking,
Is there anything we should know about this location?
Yes, there are many civilians there at the moment.
Seems like a party of some sort.
One of the operatives answered.
Ruby, in turn, just chuckled before stepping into the portal,
and Veslav followed her without saying a word.
Once Ruby had stepped out of the other side of the portal,
she found herself standing on a stage at a rave.
The whole area was illuminated by colourful lights
that swirled as far as her eyes could see.
Electronic music bled out all over the area,
and crowds of people were completely made.
mesmerized by their trance-inducing environment.
Veslav stared at the naked man that had been dancing before Ruby and the crowds.
The tattoos on the man's body made Veslav smile like a little kid at a candy store.
Ah, he's the angel, he'd remarked.
Ruby unsheathed the Nodachi and remarked, gleefully,
Such a waste of a good body.
slowly
patiently
quietly she made her way
towards the naked angel
until he was within a touch his reach
and then she leaned close to him
from behind and whispered in his ear
a pretty boy
the crowd in front of them didn't notice them
they were too enchanted by the music
and the lights
before the angel could react to Ruby
she stabbed his heart through his back
The angel coughed as her blade slowly cut through his insides.
His tattoos began glowing with a purple glint to them.
It was too late, however.
With a swift and powerful motion of her arms,
Ruby ran the sword upwards, slicing her target in half.
A fountain of dark blood sprinkled all over,
covering the stage, the assassin,
and the first row of people in front of the stage.
The people hadn't broken out of their entrant state, and just continued dancing and singing as the naked man fell to his knees.
His flesh was pulsating and slowly reforming.
He was an angel.
Killing an angel is not as simple as bisecting him.
Hence, Ruby dropped her sword like a guillotine onto the man's heart, before she twisted and turned it.
With that, she had read a sword.
released the small, organic blood pump from its vascular confines inside her target's chest
captivity. She then yanked it out with her sword and proceeded to bite into it, for good measure,
before tossing it to the ground. No healing for you, my love, she mockingly remarked at the man's
dismembered form as it caught blue fire. Vreslav watched the whole ordeal without interfering.
He had come to enjoy his protege's sadistic methods.
After all, he knew what she was.
That's exactly why he'd brought her into the organisation.
Her mindset, her neuropsychological inner workings,
were perfect for that kind of job.
He didn't want her to end up in some ditch or behind bars,
and so he'd taken her under his wing.
He turned her into an angel of death.
"'Good, jaw,' he was about to say,
"'as a bright flash of light threw him off guard,
"'blinding him and Ruby, who screeched in pain
"'as the light burned her eyes.
"'She covered herself up, and the light began subsiding.
"'A loud, booming voice that sounded like ten people
"'speaking through one mouth, came out calling at the duo.
"'You will pay for this.
"'You will burn in hell for killing my brother.'
As the lights died down, Ruby opened her eyes to see the crowd in front of her, no longer focused on dancing.
No.
Instead, they were all staring at her, trying to stare through her soul, with light shining through their eyes.
Purple tinted light.
The crowds had been possessed.
The music and projector lights slowly died down around them, as Ruby's mind drifted towards us.
single train of thought.
Kill.
Her pained expression had turned into one of joy.
Her grin grew so wide it became almost painful to smile for her.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.
She began calling out as the possessed hordes slowly made their way towards her,
crawling to her like a mass of mindless zombies.
I am going to kill you all.
She screeched before throwing herself, blade first, into the mass of mind-controlled humans.
With each swing, she claimed a life.
She was precise and lethal.
One blow per one life.
With each strike of her blade, she had soiled the soil beneath her, the blood of mortal men.
Soon enough, the green-eyed assassin stood in the middle of a river of blood,
mind-numbing ecstasy filled her senses.
She let out a burst of maddening laughter
before pouncing on top of her remaining targets
and with each strike,
her killing blows became more and more brutal and crude.
She was out to make the act of dying painful for them,
increasing the dose of pain for each victim
with each passing strike.
She didn't slow down until she was the only living person
standing, all the while her crazed laughter filled the nightsair with the mortifying call
of a death goddess. At the same time, Veslav pounced on the second angel in the form of a wolf,
biting his head clean off. Vreslav landed on the ground just as the second angel's body crashed,
headless and bleeding profusely from the neck. Veslav roared like a pissed beast, and then his gut began
burning from the inside.
As he panted like a dog,
his belly exploded,
selling gallons of blood and viscera all over.
A booming voice came out of the beheaded corpse's neck.
Foolish, foolish dog thinks he can stop me.
The head reconstructed itself on the corpse as it rose back up.
The angel was still alive.
He walked up to Veslav's broken canine form,
and kicked at it, sending it flying a few yards,
showering the ground below him with guts and rib powder.
The second angel spread out its massive wings,
made up of light, and flew up to Veslav's seemingly lifeless body.
He then picked up the wolf and raised it into the air.
I am going to kill you by tearing your pelt off,
and then I will do unspeakable things to that go.
Do you understand me?
dark. The angel was about to land another blow on Veslav, but when his fist connected with the
canine skull, the whole wolf disintegrated into dust that fell around the angel who stared at
the space in front of him, confused. Show yourself, coward. Nothing. I know you're not dead. I haven't
pulverized you just yet. Nothing. The whole situation felt awfully wrong to the angel.
He could feel it in his core. Something was wrong. Veslav wasn't a werewolf. He knew
something about him was different. Doubt had begun creeping up on him. Puzzled,
confused and scared. Feeling
the angel had yet known, but beginning to take over his physical form and clouded his judgment.
The angels started looking around frantically, shouting profanities at Vyislav, and even threatening
his partner. But the seer did not seem to be anywhere in sight. Ruby was too preoccupied
with the hordes of the possessed people to even bother looking at the second angelic being.
she just twisted her head in disappointment at the supernatural creature
when she realized he'd become completely overcome by fear
just as the creature was about to make his way to Ruby
he felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck
one that ran down his spinal cord and spread to his limbs
after which everything below the point from which the pain had come
felt numb
and gradually all feeling was lost
The creature could barely turn his head
Before he noticed a large, furry, humanoid creature
Grabbing him by the neck
Face Love began landing blow
After blow upon the angel's body
Each blow produced a sickening, crunching sound
That indicated the breaking of bones
And tearing of soft tissue
The angel was overcome with pain
He couldn't even heal his broken
physical body, because with each attempt to heal a wound,
Veslav opened up three new ones.
The sear reduced his immense strength to punch a hole through the angel's stomach,
before he pulled out his large intestine and hunging around to angel's neck like a noose.
He then proceeded to toss the angel in every imaginal direction,
using the form as innards as rope.
Each time the angel's body make contact with the ground below him,
A little bit more of his digestive system was exposed to the elements.
That made every moment of the experience, excruciatingly agonising.
The angel could no longer even think straight.
All he could do was be a prisoner in his own mind
as a monstrous wolfman turned his body into a pile of shit and pus.
Angels are powerful creatures, however, they have their limits,
and they are certainly capable of dying.
Veslav dealt with angels in the past,
and thus he knew how to overload their capabilities.
Once the seer had enough fun,
he dragged the barely lucid angel towards the mount of corpses
atop of which sat his partner.
She sat there, covered in blood and viscera,
adoring her own macabre handiwork,
with a maddened smile smearer,
over her face. Veslav tossed the angel towards her and gestured with his head upwards.
Ruby stepped down towards the angel and grabbed him by the head. At this point his body had
began regenerating itself. However, his regeneration wasn't quick enough, as when Ruby yanked his
head backward, Veslav slammed his fist into the angel's jaw, sending it flying along with
with a lightning bolt of ungodly pain straight to the angel's brain.
Ruby recalled her arm, shaking it as if she'd been struck herself.
I forgot just how powerful you can be, Prince.
Veslav smirked and tilted his head sideways,
as if to gesture that he was sorry,
before reverting back to his human form.
It's fine.
Ruby responded as her hand travelled down the angel's face.
The angel was paralyzed with pain.
The thought of what this sadistic duo might do to him.
His lack of lower jaw made it impossible for him to speak.
Suddenly, he felt a hand reached down into his mangled insides.
He began making gurgling sounds,
and Ruby told him to shut up as she was actively trying to find something.
His heart.
The angels inside were sometimes.
so messed up, one could reach from the esophagus to the lungs, and vice versa.
She touched it, her heart's desire, the angelic heart.
Found it, she yelled out gleefully. As the assassin touched the angel's heart, his whole body spasmed
in an agonizing stream of neurological torment, and then the acidic contents of his stomach swum up
and burned Ruby's arm, making her recoil and curse at the creature for not controlling himself.
The angel threw up his stomach acid all over himself, causing him to spasm even more,
making Ruby shove his carcass downward.
Veslav wasted no time and landed a devastating spinning kick to the angel
at the same moment the latter hit the ground.
The blow was so devastating, the creature's whole chest chest.
cavity was blown apart, exposing the heart and lungs which were covered in shards of bone and yellowish
mucus. Ruby got up to her feet, adoring the damage caused by her partner, and proceeded to stab
his heart with her nodachi, before she pulled it out with a single stroke of her arm and presented
it to Veslav, as a mock sacrifice at which he burst out laughing. That was fun.
Ruby exclaimed.
Yes, yes it was.
Good job, kid.
The seer exclaimed before,
activating a device which had opened a rift in the air,
causing a bluish light to explode through it.
After you, my lady,
he gestured to Ruby, who stepped into the bluish light.
The seer followed closely behind,
and as he did, the rift closed behind him.
Once they passed through the rift, a familiar voice greeted them.
Your Majesty, Miss O'Reilly.
Don't call me that, butler, Veslav Bar.
My apologies, sir.
The mission was a success, Timofay.
Now I shall have a bath and some tea, please.
Ruby said as she stared affectionately at the butler.
Oh, and that.
She pulled off her sleeve, displaying the chemical burns on her arm.
Immediately, miss.
What about you, sir?
Are you going to return to your slumber?
The butler asked Veslav.
No.
I think I'm going to stay awake for a while longer.
It seems you guys are slowing down.
There were two of them.
Two angels.
You detected one.
Oh, my.
Why? The butler expressed his surprise at the fact.
I definitely think I should stick around for a while longer.
Veslav continued sternly.
So be it, sir. I hope you enjoy your stay above ground.
The butler replied.
I'll attend to everything in the meantime.
He continued, as he began making his way out of the portal room.
Oh, I know I will.
what with all these things roaming about lately?
The seer remarked under his breath,
before he blended in with the shadows.
No, I will.
Red and the wolves, part one.
I searched the crowd coming onto the train like a predator,
which is a flock of sheep milling about in the field.
I watched for who was aware and who wasn't.
Who was looking around, and you had their head down.
I was looking for what separated the wolves from the sheep.
or in this case the sheep dog amongst the sheep I saw him bundle in with a herd of people onto the pack subway car his head up and scanning choosing to stand rather than sit his back to the corner he was prior military or law enforcement I could tell by the way he stood and the look in his eyes he also had an aura of violence about him being in my line of work he does you good to smell the violence on a man
before you get close.
He spotted me as I spotted him,
because we were both doing the same thing,
people watching,
albeit I was doing it for different reasons.
I gave him a smile,
just flirtatious enough with a hint of sadness.
I knew how to attract men.
It was my job anyways.
I knew how to be just mysterious enough
to bait the hook for a man like him.
Men like him love are damsel in distra.
Now I were to sit and let him stew with the idea of me on his mind.
We had three stops until I needed to get off, and I needed to know if he was in for the long haul.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I looked to see it was a text from a block number.
It said, at 2,200, the quarry has entered the designated hunting grounds.
The game is afoot.
Eleven hours, 59 minutes remaining.
I frowned when I saw I was lumped into a group chat with four other numbers.
One said,
Enjoy your last train ride, bitch.
I already knew who it was before I even read the signature.
Mica.
So that meant the other three numbers were his packmates.
The packmaster, Alexi, was one of the numbers.
They were already in the area.
I had to move fast.
I pulled the red scarf tighter around my neck.
I lowered my head to smell the scent of my sister's perfume.
I needed a reminder for why I was doing this.
Of course I couldn't take off the scarf.
I was instructed to wear it for the whole time of the trial,
or I'd automatically forfeit and lose.
It was the same perfume my sister always wore
that they were using to hunt me down.
After two more stops, the train was almost empty.
It was literally just me, the man,
and an older couple at the other.
the other end of the car. I had to do this now. I walked up to him. He was already watching me in
the reflection of the window while he pretended to be looking down at his phone. When I got a
couple of steps away, he looked up and gave me a plight, questioning stare. I don't usually
do this, but I ran my hand through my hair nervously, putting a little tremble in my voice for
good measure, a leaning close to break out the doe eyes. You wouldn't happen to be a cop,
would you? Or do you know any cops? His eyes widened and he looked me over. I had everything
where he could see it and put two and two together. He looked at the large purple bruise on my
wrist as I played nervously with my hair. I was leaned in enough for him to see the makeup
hiding my black eye and the top button of my blouse was undone.
so I could keep his attention.
He put the clues together, or at least the clues I wanted him to.
He asked in a low voice,
were you in any danger, ma'am?
Jackpot, I knew it.
He was a cop or former cop.
He jumped right into action, took the bait nicely.
I pulled the scarf up in an attempt to cover my face
and looked around the car nervously.
Can you talk about?
with me over here, I said, nodding in the direction of the cramped area between the cars.
He nodded back in agreement, and we crept into the small, dark compartment.
Once the door was firmly shut behind us, I let the silence hang in the air for good effect.
We both stood close to each other and swayed lightly back and forth with the motion of the
speeding train. Light strobe softly through the windows, and I could hear his breathing.
I wondered if he was close enough to smell my sister's perfume.
He waited patiently for me to continue.
I'm in trouble, I said softly.
I don't know who to go to for help.
I can't go directly to the cops, but I need someone like them to keep me safe.
Just tell me what happened, Miss.
The man said in a gentle voice.
It was a practice patience of a man who does this for a living.
I'm in trouble.
I said. I'm on the run from some men I used to work for, but there is a place in the city where
it can go to be safe, to be free. The man nodded slowly in understanding. I saw his hand
subconsciously touched the left side of his jacket. He probably had a gun in there when I was
feeling it for comfort. I have to get there within the next couple of hours. If I don't hurry,
they'll kill me. Please. I opened the latch on my purse to show him stacks of money held together
with rubber bands. I can pay you. I have 30,000. His eyes widened at this, and he finally spoke.
First off, answer my questions truthfully. This man, is he your pimp, and his money? Did you steal it from him?
Yes, I said. He is my pimp. He and his crew forced me at a young age to work for them.
No, this is money I've saved up over the years to escape.
Well, he'll say it's his money, but it's my body that earned it.
A little anger entered my voice at this.
It seemed to impress the man.
I was glad I didn't have to completely lie to him about everything.
Where do you have to go? he asked.
Not far.
I have to meet up with a contact to tell me the location of the safe house.
The contact's at the next stop.
How many men does your boss have?
He counted quickly.
Four, including.
him I answered. You consider this for a while. I could see him weighing the situation in his
minds. Finally, he answers. Four isn't bad. I'll escort you to your contact for half the money.
If I want to bail after that, I bail. If it's not completely fucked, I'll take you all the way.
I couldn't help but smile. He was confident and pragmatic. That was a good sign. But he
leave mihail in the pack were only humans and he was sorely wrong deal i say are you a cop he gave a half smile i'm a military
police officer just back home for a couple of days for my father's funeral it was yesterday i'm shipping back out in a
couple of days boy could i pick him military training and a cop we were coming up on the start
now. I needed him to be a little more wary of the job he'd agreed to. Him being too confident would
get us both killed. The pack would be on our trail soon. The doors opened up onto the platform.
I told my new hired man we needed to find Dmitri Circle. He walked up to a giant map plastered
on the subway wall. Anyone else would have used a phone, but he said he didn't need his phone.
I was now starting to doubt my decision with the boomer train.
he was showing. I saw a group of men walking towards us while he was distracted with the man.
He did throw a glance at them, must have seen them as a non-threat. They were just punky teens acting
tough, but I had put him on his toes. There were three of them, the tallest one leading
in friends. He was one of those obnoxious people who talk with their hands. As he came
close to me, he was waving his hands around, describing some dumb thing he and his friends
had done last night. I looked the handle of the purse around his arm and screamed as I grabbed onto him.
Let go, asshole, I screamed at him. My hand slipped to my stun gun in my coat pocket, and I gave him a jolt to the
stomach. He gurgled and dropped to the ground like his clothes weighed a thousand pounds.
The other two reacted in anger, as expected.
Chika, blot! And you whore, came from their lips. Well, they were. They were. They
They weren't wrong.
My bodyguard spun around and intercepted the two as they gave chase to me.
He collided hard with one of them.
A knee to the groin at full charge was enough to drop the punk into a whimpering mass.
The last one turned to swing on the bodyguard.
The bodyguard stepped under the punch to execute a perfectly timed counterattack.
The right hook, not the kid, smooth out.
I stood in amazement.
I had originally planned to use my higher guard as a second.
sacrifice to slow down, Michal in the pack. But maybe we had a chance. Maybe we would both make it.
But there I was being stupid again. Well, I thought I killed foolish thoughts, like naive hope
a long time ago. The tall man I'd tased was beginning to sit up. I saw the flash of a silver handgun
being pulled out from the back of his pants. Oh, God, this wannabe gangster actually had a gun.
while this was getting out of hand
I didn't want the idiot to get shot
and the bodyguard pulled out his own gun much faster
and pointed it down at the thug
don't do it punk
the bodyguard yelled
I saw the thug hesitates
gun still pointed downwards by his side
but I could see the look of defiance on his young face
and I could see the cold gaze of violence
in my bodyguards
it was a pissing contest
that would end in death
I reached back into my deep coat pockets and pulled out my pepper spray.
Yep, I had more utilities than Batman.
I aimed high and let loose with an arc of the burning liquid.
The stream hit the thug square in the face, and he scratched his face in pain.
Leave him, I said as I reached over to pull my bodyguard's arm down.
He stared, surprised at the now squirming and screaming thug on the ground.
We hurried to the long set of stairs,
sitting up out of the subway. In our long climb up, I heard my phone vibrate again. I looked down at it
in my hand. I smell a man with her, the trace of gunpowder and gun oil on him, cup maybe,
well, she has pepper spray and she's heading south. It was from a number I didn't recognize
in the same group chance, but I knew it was another pack member. As we crested the stairs
into the snowy night streets, I turned to look back down into the subway.
at the bottom of the stairs.
There he was,
walking up with his hands in his pockets.
When he tilted his head up to follow us,
the fluorescent lights in the subway reflected off them
to make them flash green and gold.
The corner of his lip curled up in the snow.
I didn't know him personally,
but I recognised him from the brothel and knew his name.
He was short with a stocky frame,
corded muscles bulging in his neck.
His black hair slick,
back matching his nicely cut goatee. He moved with an eerie weightless grace as he began
stalking his way up the stairs. He removed his hands from his pockets and I could see the claws
beginning to fall. You smell pepper spray, Ivan? It's bear mace. I yelled at him loudly. My bodyguard
turned to see the approaching man. I let loose with a continued stream of mace, my arm working in a
circular motion, dousing the steps with a face burning liquid. Ivan was a good 20 feet out of the
range of the arcing stream of mace, but he was also downwind. He let out an audible growl before he
sneezed and started shaking his head. His eyes and nose already leaking like forces, mucus
slinging everywhere. Damn, talk about a bad reaction, the bodyguard said. We were both at the
top now, staring. Ivan was in the throes of pain.
between the blur of his furious head-shaking
I could see his transformation coming further along
his goatee was now a beard
the texture of his hair took on a dark fur-like quality
his arms had gotten longer
and the bones at the end of his fingers
were jutting out of the skin into sharpened points
I could see his own blood dripping from his hands
the white tips of the bone claws
stabbing through his skin
my bodyguard was frozen in amazement
at the horrid sight before him.
I believe this was the moment he'd regretted taking this job.
I had to grab him by the arm to pull him away.
Dmitri Circle, it should be around here, I told him as we ran down the snow-covered street.
My informant will be in room 432 at the Fountainwood Apartments.
It was a bodyguard that spotted the apartment shortly after.
It was a run-down square brick building, rising high into the sky.
It was dotted with many windows, most broken.
The locked security door was also broken, and we just led ourselves into the complex.
Inside, the volume was tumultuous, with loud tenants and thin walls.
Trash left to stink up the hallways, leaking ceilings and broken hallway lights.
I'd lived in places like this before.
On the fourth floor, at the end of a long, dark hallway, we found 432.
The bodyguard checked the stairwell entrance at the other end of the hall to find it chained shut.
If the pack found us, they could only come in from one direction.
You need me to come inside with you?
He asked as I began knocking on the door.
Already we could smell the strong scent of marijuana emitting through the door.
No, I'll be fine.
Be look at while I deal with whoever's inside, I reassured him.
The door opened a crack, and I almost caught a second-hand high from the smell wafting out of the apartment.
I saw a pretty female face peeking at me with a deadpan expression.
Oh, it's you.
Came a droning voice from behind the door.
I'm surprised you even made it.
Well, we sit in ducks out here, lady?
I told her in frustration.
Oh, yeah, replied the bored voice.
Only you can come in.
Your friend has a cop face.
I have rules against showing any kindness to cops.
She droned on.
her eye flicking to my bodyguard.
Sure thing, lady, my bodyguard sat over his shoulder, looking agitated.
Rules or rules.
The door closed, and I heard the chain bolt sliding free.
It opened again just enough for me to slip inside.
It was like I'd walked into a hippie's dreamland.
The room was decorated with black lights, glowing posters and illicit vegetation,
and planted under heat lamps in the living room and kitchen.
I scanned the small apartment.
Only the girl and a stoner do to sleep on the couch.
The sleeping stoner must have been a guard
because there was a sword-off shotgun
wedged underneath a sofa for him to reach for.
I guess I wasn't considered enough of a threat to wake him up.
You have three choices for a safe house, the woman explained.
You had a choice of three different stops on the train,
which each led to their own specific infirmation.
informants. Each informant has the location to three different safe houses. They should keep the
hunters from knowing where you're going and cheating by just killing you when they get close to the
safe house. That's like the woman looked up and counted in her head. Nine different safe
houses you could have picked. They know I'm here, so that narrows it back down to three safe
houses I can possibly pick. I said impatiently. The stonergo looked like she didn't understand.
She flopped open a paper map to show me.
There was a red circle around Fountain Woods, where we were,
and three more dark circles around three locations spread out on the map.
The circles on all of these said,
Grandma's house.
I'm so glad she thought this was funny.
I looked at all three locations and decided on the closest one at a construction site.
Why be fancy?
Just make a mad rush straight up the middle.
I made a mental note, nodded to her.
and turned back to the door.
I felt the woman staring at me like she was waiting for something.
Um, I'm ready to go, so like, bye, I said to her.
Oh no, you got to tell me which location you picked, she blurted.
Screw you. No, I don't, I said back.
I didn't trust this idiot not to sell me out to the first wolf who came knocking.
Yes, you do.
I have to call and set it up.
up. She said as she pulled out her phone. If they don't get my call, they won't be there.
I stared at her for a while, pissed. Whatever, put it on speakerphone so I can hear who it is,
I demanded. Fine, said the woman, hitting speed dial on the phone. Where are you going?
I waited until the phone was answered and an unfamiliar man's voice spoke up. The idiot lady
looked at me to tell her where I was going.
The construction
sighed of Wicker Street, I answered.
Extraction team will be on route.
You have 11 hours left to get there.
Good luck, the voice finished
and hung up. I didn't like it, but I had no choice.
I still expected whoever
was on the phone to send an immediate message
to the hunting patch. But maybe
it was a good thing. Maybe it was a security
protocol to keep the pack from paying
off the teams at the safe houses to tell.
them where I was going. Hopefully they were as confused as I was, to keep the hunt fair.
You can leave now, Red, the woman said. At first I didn't catch the reference because I was a brunette,
tired and in a hurry, but it hit me a second later. She thought this was funny, maybe even amused
her to know I could be in the last hours of my life. I gave her a cold stare, and that's when I noticed a
small tattoo on her neck.
I didn't have to lean in too close
to already know what it was.
It was the burning moon.
It was a brand of ownership.
It was Mikhail's brand.
A tattoo he only gave to his personal favourites.
She must have been a prostitute at some point like me.
She was prettier the most.
He gave her this sweet little spot dealing for him.
She was kept in an apartment all for himself.
"'Hey, how about I sweeten the pot a little?'
"'I said with a disarming smile.
"'I popped open my handbag, and her greedy eyes saw the cash within.
"'How about I'd tip you for your services?
"'You know, just to keep things between us girls.'
"'I'm thinking, one thousand for a secret like this,'
"'she said she stepped in close to glare down at the money,
"'my hand rummaging around inside.
"'Of course. Us ladies'
need to work together to stay ahead of the wolves, I said cheerfully. They feed upon us and victimize
us like sheep. I continued as I finally found what I needed. But you know, I paused for a dramatic
effect. She looked up from the money and into my eyes. Sometimes we're the most dangerous wolf
of all. My hand shot out of my purse and jammed a long metal fingernail file. I was a little fingernail
file her into her neck.
My other hand covered her mouth, and I forced it to the wall.
Her eyes bulged as I muffled her scream.
She bled out within seconds as I lowered her to the floor,
blood pouring down one side of her like a leaky faucet.
She wouldn't be running back to tell her master like a good pet now.
I wiped off her blood on her clothes and slipped back out into the hallway.
The stoner asleep on the couch, still.
happily dreaming. Back in the hallway my bodyguard didn't even turn to acknowledge me. He was focused on
something at the far end of the hall. I quickly saw what it was. Ivan had found us and he looked pissed.
Ivan no longer looked human. The only reason we knew it was him was because this monster
wore the same tattered clothes as Ivan. Now he was completely in his best form. His snows. His snows.
out and face covered with fur, shining golden eyes, muscles ripping through his clothes,
bone claws long and curved.
What sort of gun are you packing? I asked, with fear in my voice.
It's Sean, by the way, he answered.
Sean of Charca. I thought you should know the name of the guy you're getting killed.
As for my gun, it's nowhere near big enough.
Talking was over as Sean leveled his pistol as the wolf began charging us.
I flattened myself against the apartment's door as Sean led out two quick shots.
Ivan staggered as part of his head combusted into red mist, but he didn't drop him.
He skidded off the hallway wall and continued running towards us, leaving a blood trail in his wake.
The wolf was close now.
He hooked his claws into the thin walls and began pulling himself up to run alongside
of it. Sean panicked and fired two more shots. The first one missed. The second are shoulder
graze. When Ivan's forward momentum got him to the ceiling, he kicked off with all four
limbs to shoot like an upside-down missile straight towards Sean. I opened the door to fall back
into the apartment at the last instant. I saw Sean duck as the beast sawed over him.
Sean screamed out in pain. More gunshots went off in the hallway,
mixed with screams and growls.
I kicked the doorway back closed.
I flipped around on my stomach to stare at the couch.
I had to get that shotgun.
I scrambled past the dead woman's body to snatch it up.
As I stood up, the stoner was finally awake
and grabbed at me in panic.
I hit him in the nose with the butt of the shotgun
to put him back into his slumber.
As I returned my attention to the door,
Sean and the wolf came bursting through.
Sean crashed to the ground with the wolf on top of him,
taking a huge bite out of Sean's left arm.
He was covered with blood,
and I noticed Ivan's legs and right arm were human again.
I figured Ivan was dying from the gunshots to the head,
but wasn't going to die soon enough for Sean to survive.
As the wolf shook Sean back and forth like a rag doll,
I steadily approached them
and put the two barrels of the shoddy inches away from
Ivan's exposed brain.
With a thunderous boom,
the wolf's head exploded
all across the side wall.
Sean frantically kicked
the headless body off and scrambled away.
Part of the wolf snout
still attached to his arm,
now quickly transforming back into
human teeth.
I dropped my knees and let out
a sigh of relief.
Sean backed up against a wall and
just stared at the gory mess.
Oh,
I quit, lady, he finally said.
No, I replied.
You have to finish this now.
You killed an honoured pack member.
The only way you stay alive is if you leave with me.
But you killed him, he replied.
Semantics, I scoffed.
We both killed him.
Besides, I'll just lie instead you did the whole thing.
So, we're in this together.
You are a...
"'Bitch,' he replied flatly.
"'Yeah, I know,' I replied back.
"'Part two.'
Ivan was dead.
His brain splattered all over the apartment walls.
This was a death sentence for the both of us.
Sean had to duct tape up his bleeding arms with the tape from the apartment's kitchen.
It stopped the bleeding, but wouldn't be enough.
I hurried Sean down the hallway.
we had to get out of this apartment before the rest of the pack smelled the blood.
Stop it.
Stop this right now.
Sean yelled at me as he pulled me to the side.
We stood in the building's dingy stairwell.
You tell me what I'm really up against.
You tell me what's trying to kill both of us.
Sean yelled at me, his voice echoing down the stairwell.
His eyes were a fury and his jaw was clenched.
I almost felt sorry for what I'd done to him.
They, they're werewolves, I sad with trepidation.
Yeah, no shit.
I figured that little piece out.
He told me, eyes bulging.
Why are they trying to kill you?
Why are they trying to kill us?
He demanded.
It's a trial.
It's a game, a right of passage, for young wolves to join the pack, they answered back.
They hunt an innocent virgin over one night.
The youngest wolf leads the pack, and he must make the kill to be fully initiated.
and Sean did what I knew would come next.
He looked me over and made a pf sound.
You're no virgin, Missy, he said rudely.
I'm taking my sister's place, I shouted back.
I'm taking her place so she doesn't get killed.
But we do?
We get to be sacrificed for your pure virginal sister.
Sean sneered.
No, I counted.
We get to the safehouse and we end the game.
Mikhail loses and he's ejected from the pack.
Mikhail?
Sean asked.
Is he the big bad wolf leading these assholes?
No, he's the pop, the youngest of the group.
Tonight's his ritual, his initiation to the pack.
Alexi's the packmaster.
Alexi's allowing Mikhail to lead the pack for only one night.
Mikhail is 12 hours to find and kill me.
Sean looked at his watch.
How far is the safe house?
The Wicker construction side of town over.
So, two hours by car, four by public transportation.
And I'm not even considering walking, I said.
Sean was silent for a minute.
You chose the closest safe house, didn't you?
Even though it was the most obvious and the most dangerous.
Didn't you?
Yes, I began to reply.
"'I've known you for an hour,' Sean interrupted,
"'and I've guessed your decision.
"'I'm pretty sure Mikhail knows you a little better than me.
"'You're predictable, hot-headed, stubborn.
"'He'll know where you're going, and what path you're taking.
"'He knows you'll take the fastest route.
"'So, um, well, now our only chance for survival is speed.
"'Run the ball right up the middle before they close in on us.
"'He finished.
"'Those were my thoughts, exactly.
I guess I was predictable.
Once again I grabbed him by the arm and we ran down the stairwell and into the snowy street.
The sword off-shorty halfway hidden, tucked under my arm and light jacket.
When we made it out onto the street, I noticed how empty it was.
It was cold, the temperature was dropping, and it was past midnight in the middle of the ghetto.
Finding a cab would be difficult.
Once again, Sean stole the idea from my head.
We have to steal a doubt.
car. We began running along the curb, shopping around the snow-covered cars. A wolf's howl tore
through the night air with his eerie tone. It echoed off the buildings, making it hard to pinpoint.
Sean and I looked at each other. This was definitely not a sound you should hear in the city.
Another howl answered it from further up the street, this one much closer. I checked my phone
and I wasn't surprised to find new messages.
Ivan is dead.
Girl out in the open.
Funnel her towards Mikhail so he can take the kill.
The man is mine, it said.
I figured this was Alexei talking to the other unnamed wolf in the pack.
This meant Mikhail wasn't one of the two wolves homing in on us.
We still had time.
I showed Sean my phone screen and his eyes widened.
Come on, he said.
this time grabbing me by the arm and pulling me off the streets towards a run-down building.
He pulled me up to a door with a thick chain and padlock.
He swiped the shotgun away from me and levelled it at the lock.
More time to go car shopping. We need to get off the street.
Stop, I told him, as I pushed the shotgun away from the lock.
I can pick the lock. The blast will just bring them faster.
And so I began picking the lock with one of the gadgets from my purse.
I thought a lot of symptoms.
scenarios about how tonight would play out, and a lot require breaking into lot buildings.
I popped the padlock and went to remove it. Sean put his hand over mine. He was now hovering over
me, no longer facing the streets. Not yet. Don't open it yet. He whispered in my ear. I continued
messing with the chain and padlock. I could feel the tension emitting from Sean's posture.
I listened and kept my head down as Sean shielded me.
I could just barely make out footsteps approaching.
Now, he yelled as he spun around and fired off one barrel into the street.
I heard the shattering glass, the hiss of air from a tire and a deep growl.
I hurriedly pulled the chain from the door and swung the door open.
I looked back to see the shotgun-ridden car across the street.
Its window shattered, and it was leaning.
to the side from loss of air in a front tire.
Snow slid off its hood and roof.
A figure bounded over the hood and sprinted towards us.
Sean sighted it and fired.
The creature jumped to the cover of another vehicle on our side of the street,
just a split second before the shotgun blasted its remaining shell.
The wolf made it behind the vehicle just in time.
The peblets of the shotgun peppered the new vehicle our attacker was hiding behind.
the car being honking and flashing its brights, letting off a shrill alarm.
I saw the figure retreat from the high-pitched alarm.
The figure was lean and gangly, its face covered with fur and its eyes reflecting from the overhead streetlights.
It wore a dark blue track suit which already showed damp spots of blood from being hit by the shotgun spread.
The wall skittered into the shadows along the buildings, only its gold eyes reflecting back at us.
and it was making sure to stay out of the way of the shotgun's daily range.
Sean popped the shotgun open and ejected the shelves.
He pantomime placing two new ones in and snap the shotgun back to ready.
We were out of ammo, and this bluff would only work for so long.
Stay back, he shouted at the wolf.
Not how you speak to another person, but how you do when trying to scare away a wild dog,
I'll blow you apart if you follow us.
We both backed into the darkened building, some sort of abandoned emergency clinic or medical office.
I brought the chain with me so we could loop and paddle up the chain from the other side.
As I looped the chain, I could hear low growling from the other side as the wolf patiently pursued us,
waiting just on the other side.
We were left in pitch black and had to navigate the hallways with a flashlight on my phone.
Then we busted through a door into a back alleyway.
Sean ran across the alley to kick in a door to another business.
This was some sort of grocery store, and we happened to surprise a large family living in the back rooms.
They were very surprised to see a woman and a bloodied man with a shotgun come barreling into their living corridors.
Must have been a community of families squatting illegally in the building,
because I counted twelve people in total, stuffed into the small room.
Five of them were kids.
All of them were crammed together with mattresses on the ground,
and a thin clothesline running down the centre of the room its only barrier.
One young man sighed Sean up and decided to jump towards a nearby lampstand, grabbing for something.
Sean, quick reflexed as ever, intercepted the man and rammed him into the wall.
Sean quickly opened the drawer of the lampstand to reveal a small handgun.
Sean snatched it up and pointed the empty shotgun at them one-handedly.
They were all screaming while Sean screamed back at them to calm down.
The chaos went on for a moment until I finally cut in.
"'Line them up against the wall,' I commanded Sean.
"'What? No, you're crazy,' he asked back in disbelief.
"'Oh, my God, Sean, just line them up against the wall.
"'I'm not going to execute them like a war criminal.'
I fussed back at him.
He issued gruff orders and waved his gun at them.
They formed a ragged line against the wall,
the old ones hiding the children between them.
I reached into my purse for my last trick and poured out a small bottle of perfume.
I began running down the line,
spraying them like an over-aggressive beauty attendant at the mall.
The small room filled up quickly with its strong but beautiful scent.
My sister had been forced to wear this perfume ever since we were taken.
The wolves had deemed her and a couple of other girls as special
and set them apart from the rest of us.
The rest of us were forced to make money for the wolves.
prostitution, drug dealing, stealing.
That was our school of hard knocks.
For my sister, she and her group of girls were pampered and educated and taught to be obedient.
My sister was set in a special subclass, separated from the rest of us.
She was kept pampered and untainted for the pleasure of the royal werewolf members.
Young wolves can either pick an untainted girl to breed with and continue the bloodline or pick to hunt.
and slaughter during initiation.
Why do the hunted girls have to be pure?
I don't know.
Some chauvinistic ancient ritual.
Something the Neuri people did back hundreds of years ago.
It's always been a rite of passage for wolves becoming four members.
Me and my sister, Anika, are twins.
Well, I'm the oldest.
I was originally selected to have the life of the pampered plaything for the wars to use.
when I realized what my life would be and what awaited Anika,
I switched places back with her the first night.
She was my little sister.
She was too kind and too pure to live the life I was forced into.
I had to protect her.
It was what her mother would have wanted.
The perfume was specifically used on my sister and her group of girls
by the strict madame that run the house she stayed at.
It was a scent only used for the untainted girls.
I was made to wear her scarf so the wolves could track the unique scent of the perfume.
The madame kept the perfume locked up in a room.
Sometime later in the coming morning, the wolves would find a dead madame, with her perfume
missing. The perfume I'd stolen was the same perfume I was dousing the poor family with now.
Well, hopefully, it would throw the wolves off the scent.
Once I covered all of the family sufficiently, I told them to go.
Those poor people just stared at me and didn't move, and too terrified.
I looked to Sean so he could convince them to leave.
He pointed his gun in the air and fired off a shot from the pistol.
Go, run.
The family then stormed out of the room, going in every direction.
Let's go, Sean said.
Your little centric won't matter if they lay eyes on us.
We exited out of the front of the building.
We seemed to be in the clear.
We heard a howl further away from us, in the direction of some of the fleeing family.
We turned the corner of the street to be lit up by red and blue lights.
We were face to face with a cop car.
The spotlight hit us, and we heard the doors open on either side.
Hands up, drop the guns, came a command from the driver's side.
We did as he commanded, as we were both being blinded by the spotlight.
I heard the clatter of Sean's guns,
the asphalt. I saw one of the cops approaching us from the passenger side.
Turn around. Don't face me, he screamed. We both did, now facing out into the darkness of the
street. Shit, I stated, as I saw a wolf creature in the distance, twice as big as the others.
It was Alexey, his glowing eyes approaching. He was carrying something large and cylindrical in his
hands. Sean Duck just in time as a manhole cover came spinning towards him like a frisbee from out of the
darkness. I heard a sickening thud and the crashing of the police car's windshield. I spun around to
see the manhole cover embedded in the windshield and blood everywhere. I looked down to see the body
of the cop that was approaching us. His head smashed backwards, his mouth ripped open and gushing
blood. The cop on the driver's side was poured into the darkness from behind. Gunshots and
growls followed. The time for running had stopped. I soon knew the entire packet arrived,
and Mikhail was going to take his kill. Part three, we stood with her hands up facing the giant
wolf approaching us. This one stood at least seven foot tall and was still hunched over and had to be over
300 pounds. He wore no tattered clothes. His body was completely engulfed in jet black fur
with stripes of white around his eyes and ears. His left eye gold and his right eye reflecting
green back at us. Behind us we could hear the growling and screaming of the cop fighting the wolf
that grabbed him from behind. More gunshots rang out and I hope the poor cop was able to wound
his monstrous attacker before he was killed. Sean Lido
to me and whispered.
The sirens in the cop car.
I was vaguely aware of what he meant.
I knew the car alarm earlier hurt their eardrums,
but how was I supposed to get to the car,
surrounded by both of them?
Now, he shouted.
I was really starting to get pissed off.
How was I supposed to know what to do
every time he yelled something and started shooting?
And shooting, he did.
He quick drew the pistol he'd stolen
and fired off a content.
continuous stream at the big black wolf. I spun to make a mad dash to the driver's seat with his
door open. I jumped into the cramped seat and looked down at all the buttons mounted in the
middle panel. At first, my panic made it impossible to comprehend what any of it meant. I was shaken
back into reality as Sean's body was slammed down onto the windshield next to the embedded manhole
cover. The force of the impact made him crush the glass inward like a crack shell on an egg. Finally,
brain kicked into gear and I saw a switch labelled siren with three settings. I cranked that
bad boy all the way up and the car lit up like a Christmas tree. The takedown lights came on,
flooding light in all directions. The red and blue lights flash vigorously and the siren
belted out its ear splitting tune. All that extra light exposed Alexei towering right in front of
the car. I could see his gigantic frame through the smash windshield and around shawls
limp body, his eyes burning holes down at me. He grabbed his ears with his huge paws and
whimpered in pain from the sudden blare of the siren. I jerked that car into drive and was
going to hit Alexey with a thousand pounds of charger, but I heard a wet thump on the window next
to me. I turned to see the poor policeman who'd stopped us. He was missing half of his face,
with an eyeball gone and his cheek totally ripped away to show his teeth underneath. I saw the
absolute fear in his remaining eye and almost opened the door for him to come in. Almost.
Something hit the cop with enough force to shatter the glass. He was launched headfirst into the car
and across my lap, lodged between me and the steering wheel. A large claw reached in after him
and grabbed me by the hair. It was the wolf from earlier, the one Sean had peppered with a
shotgun on the street. This wolf had seen better days. He looked like the co-lawed. He looked like the
The cop had shot him a couple of times before being smashed through the car window, because the wolf was wheezing from multiple gunshots to the chest.
I slammed on the gas, and Alexei quickly stepped out of the way of the launching vehicle.
I rocketed away from the wharf while he still had a hold of my hair.
There was a painful rip as he yanked out a handful from my head.
I screamed in pain and tried to see around the dead cop on top of me,
and Sean's unresponsive body embedded in the shattered windshield.
I swerved and skidded away from the walls, down the deserted streets,
my vehicle wailing and lighting up the city as I desperately tried to escape.
I tried to push the dead cop back out the window,
but I had a better time pulling him most of the way in,
his leg sticking awkwardly out of the window.
It was a miracle Sean stayed put on the windshield
until my tyres lost traction on a slick patch of road,
and I slid sideways into a parked car on the street at around 40 miles an hour.
like a patient being transferred from one gurney to another
Sean rolled sideways off my hood
and onto the snow-covered hood of the parked car
this was ridiculous
I knew I had to stop and check on him
and get his dead body off of me
I turned off the lights and sirens to leave us on
a suddenly quiet street
I pulled the car out enough to open the door
and wrestle my way out at the driver's seat
as much as I wanted to run to Sean
I took the time to pull the dead cop out and lay him on the street.
The cop's gun was missing, so I snatched his pepper spray and taser.
I finally made my way over to Sean.
His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was sleeping like a baby
with the soft snow piled around him like cushions.
The snow around his right shoulder was coloured red with blood from a new bite mark.
I would have taken him for dead if there wasn't the slight fog of breath coming out of his mouth.
"'Shorn!' I yelled,
"'slapping him lightly on his cold cheeks.
"'I kept shaking him, and he only moaned.
"'A wolf's howl pierced the air behind us,
"'and his eyes shot open.
"'For an instant I thought they glow golden in the moonlight.
"'He shut up with a start and grabbed me by the neck,
"'his teeth grinding as he growled at me.
"'Shon, stop,' I gasped at him.
"'His face didn't change as his grip tightened,
He looked at me like I was a bug he was about to squish.
I'd done it.
I'd pushed him too far.
He was a killer, and now he was going to kill me.
Maybe I deserved it.
Finally, he blinked, and the cruel look of anger slid off his face,
to be replaced by recognition.
He let me go and looked around, frightened.
Need to go, he said.
I can smell them.
he said groggily what i mumbled are you okay i reached out to touch his bloody shoulder he looked down at the bloody wound in confusion
yeah actually i feel great he said in awe his pupils were delated and he smiled a little all sleeping beauty needed was a little nap i said sarcastically and pulled him off the car he flopped into the passenger seat of the patrol car
beside me and I cranked the battle car up. I flipped the yellow taser in front of his face.
He took it after a moment of consideration. Yes, the pepper spray stays with you, he stated with a
half smile. Why was he so nonchalant? He was starting to freak me out. We need new wheels.
He said in his normal, emotionless tone. Every cop in the city will be gunning for us now.
They probably called out their descriptions to dispatch before they.
were killed. Not a good look for us. I'll park it after we put some more distance between us
and the pack, I said. Suddenly the roof caved in over our heads from something heavy slamming down
on it. Oh shit, I screamed in terror from the sudden commotion. I stepped on the gas so fast we did a
burnout before lurching forward. Sean reached down and flipped on the siren. It welled sharply
before there was a wretched clanging and screeching of the light bar and
siren's been ripped out of its mounted position.
The siren laid out a pitiful whimper as he was flung to clatter in front of us, causing me to swerve from the twisted debris.
I knew our passenger was one of the wolves, but which one?
My questions were answered as the legless body of a mutilated man was slapped against the windshield by the wolf on our roof.
The man's intestines were dangling from his stomach as the wolf smeared his innards all over the windshield, obscuring my view with gorge.
It was one of the people I doused with perfume.
It had to be Mikhail performing this savagery.
I was still racing down the mostly empty streets,
only seeing the road out of a corner of unblemished windshield.
A white furred hand reached around through the busted window towards me.
The large hand wrapped around my tiny left wrist
and pulled it free from my grasp around the steering wheel,
but I still held on tightly with my right hand.
The great strength of the wolf began to pull me up and out of my seat.
Sean, help! I screamed with panic as half of my body was already out of the window.
I held on desperately with my right hand, but my grip would soon be broken.
I felt Sean straightened the steering wheel.
He anchored himself around my waist.
Now I could see the wolf who was pulling me up by my hand.
It was a snowy white wolf, contrasted with bright red blood,
made all over his face and muscular chest.
His eyes were also bright red dots against cloudy orbs.
He helped me up with his right arm while his left hand dug into the top of the roof,
holding him steadily atop his perch.
I'd never seen Mikhail as a wolf,
but I knew this was the sadistic, blonde-haired albino that I'd learned to hate.
The cold air whipped across my face as his lips curled back in a cruel smile.
I lost my grip on the steering wheel
I was only being kept halfway in the car
by Sean's futile attempt to save me.
I knew I was about to die
as Michael opened his mouth,
slobber flying out in long lines,
until I felt something hard and plastic
being placed in my hand.
With Sean holding the lower part of my body,
I swung my right hand up
to place the taser under Michael's chin.
He didn't even notice it
before the doors of the taser coming.
archerage popped open and two electric barbs shut up straight into the underside of his chin.
The taser made its patented sound as the monster's body seized up, his grip almost breaking my wrist.
Sean must have heard the taser's rapid song and jerk me hard back down inside, cutting me up good on the broken glass.
He slammed on the brakes and the car lurched as the tire screeched against the asphalt.
The upper half of my body was flung forward to smack painfully against the doorframe
as Mikhail's body flew forward from the momentum to bounce and slide heavily across the icy road.
At the end of his third rolling tumble, he righted himself to land deftly on all fours,
skidding to turn and look at me with hatred in his red eyes.
I unwedged my bruised and bloodied ribs from the door's window frame
and grabbed the wheel, throwing the car into reverse.
Mikhail's sleek white forms began charging back at us, the beat-up old cop car started
to drive backwards.
He was back on two feet now, at full sprint, inches away from being able to grab the hood of
the car.
I was looking out the back window and saw we were coming up to a T-junction.
We'd have to turn right or left, and Mikhail would be on us in an instant.
Sean poured out his old gun and announced loudly.
Turned the car for me to face him.
I'll shoot in point blank.
He quickly started rolling down his window.
Well, I thought we were out of ammo,
but maybe Sean had one shot left,
so I trusted him and did what he asked.
While speeding backwards, we came to the turn.
I whipped the wheel to turn Sean's window
facing the charging Michael.
Sean steadied the pistol with both hands,
lightly going for a precision headshot on the charging Michael.
The two of them were faced to face.
face, Mikhail already within reaching distance, and point blank with Sean's pistol.
Play dead, Fido, he yelled at Mikhail.
Mikhail's red eyes widened and he quickly threw himself to the side.
He slid behind the meager cover of a mailbox and traffic light on the street corner.
No gunshot came, and Sean whipped his head around to scream at me.
Drive! Drive!
I slammed the car into drive
and we rocketed forward and away from Mikhail.
The rear-view mirror showed a very confused white wolf
getting back to his feet
as he got smaller and smaller.
The engine roared as we lost sight of Mikhail
at the next turn.
The bluff had worked.
The wolves had learned Sean was proficient with firearms
and prima donna Mikhail didn't want half his face missing
from a well-placed shot.
I heard his how following us as we left him behind.
We sat for a while in silence,
letting our nerves calm down as we twisted and turned through the city streets.
It was obvious we had to get a new vehicle,
as I had to hang my head out of the window to see where we were going half the time.
Once I felt we were far enough away,
I backed the beat-up cop car into a dark alley.
We sat for a little while in silence.
Sean unwrapped the tape from around his arm,
and I was amazed to find the bite marks
at almost healed.
We looked at each other worried.
Neither of us wanting to state the obvious
that he was changing into one of them.
The quiet between us was broken by my phone ringing.
I looked at the number
to see it was Mikhail calling.
I answered it and put it on speakerphone
for Sean to hear.
After moments of static silence,
Mikhail's wrathful and slightly whiny voice broke through.
You will die tonight, hall.
You'll die by my hands.
You and your little guard dog will not deny me my right.
Sean and I looked at each other and shared the cringe.
Mikhail continued with his vitriol.
You think you're a hero?
Good sister.
I didn't want your used up tainted flesh.
I wanted your sweet sister.
You think convincing Alexi's son to mate with her
that you saved her from the hunt.
You are wrong.
I'll kill both of you tonight.
Well, it was true.
I had to use my charms
to convince the foolish boy,
Alex's wolf's son, Nico,
that if he liked me,
was nothing in comparison
to my beautiful pure sister.
I convinced Nico my sister
was the one he wanted.
She was wifey material,
or at least exclusive breeding material.
I'd noticed Mikhail lying my sister too.
He wanted her, but for a completely different reason.
Mikhail didn't want my sister purity.
He wanted her blood.
He wanted his initiation kill to be her.
I'd work fast to seduce the young pup Nico.
I spoke whispers of my sister during the early hours.
I said the prince deserved the best mate, and my sister was the best.
It would be a pairing against her will,
but Niko was kind and gentle, well, for a wolf.
So you can see Mikhail's anger when he chose my sister for his hunt
and got the bargain basement model instead.
He got me.
Niko had gotten his daddy's ear,
and Alexia denied the young upstart, Mikhail, his kill of my sister.
Take me off speakerphone.
Mikhail said calmly in a language only spoken between the clan.
I understood the phrase and turned off the speaker
and tuck the phone to my ear.
I have clan members loyal to me stationed at Anika's lodging.
He continued in normal speech.
Turn yourself into me, or I give the order to rip her throat-outs.
You've had your fun, but I will kill your little sister if you don't let me kill you.
I'll even make it quick if you don't make a fuss.
There was a pause, and I felt my heart drop.
I knew Mikhaa was self-fell.
enough to go against the clan if he wasn't getting his own way and he did have a group of human
followers that followed him around like he was a superstar he would kill my sister and all of this would be for
nothing the parking structure under the bridge before you take the exit to the wicker construction site
he continued with the directions don't tell you a guard dog bring him or leave him i don't care he's
dead either way. He paused. You have one hour, he stated. Mikhail hung up the phone and we sat in
silence. Fresh falling snow covered the blood cake windshield and Sean stared at me expectantly.
His breath beginning to frost. I need to tell you something, Sean, but you're not going to
like it. I finally admitted, part four. I told Sean the truth. I told Sean the truth.
I couldn't lie to him anymore.
He'd save my life multiple times in only a few hours.
I told him about Mikhail's demand
and how he'd probably kill Sean whether he survived the night or not.
Told him about my sister, about how this was all for her.
I told him how I took her place in this hunt
so she could be indentured off to a safer life with Alexi's son.
I told him how Mikhail lusted after my sister,
but not a sexual lust, but a bloodlust.
Finally I told him that Mikhail was rigging the game
by threatening to kill my sister if I didn't sacrifice myself to him.
So now I sat alone in a newly stolen car
with only the sound of the wind blowing through its broken window
to accompany the rushing thoughts in my head.
I looked in the rearview mirror to see the mess that was me.
My mascara was running dark tears down my face.
my face had been cut from the shattered glass
a large chunk of my hair was missing
I was a far contrast from the seductive damsel in distress
I portrayed earlier in the night
I saw the exit ramp to the wicker construction site coming up ahead
I was so close to freedom
but I couldn't go there
I had to instead save my sister and meet with Mikhail
under the overpass
I'd done everything to save my little sister
it's what my mother made me promise on her deathbed
maybe I couldn't free her from the clan but
I could make sure she was safe inside the clan
my mother had worked for the newly clan
the same wolves that chase me now
she was diagnosed with cancer in her early thirties
she could have asked for money from the clan to afford her treatment
but she refused she knew that if she died
the clan would hold the debts over me and my sister
well my mother
other passed and the arsoles took us anyway. I was 12 and Anika 10 and they began grooming us right
away. I hated all of them. I took the turn around under the overpass and drove into a small
parking lot shrouded in shadows from the overhead highway. My headlights illuminated the tall white
figure of Mikhail in his wool form. His white fur still painted red with blood. He held out a cell phone
in his large clawed hands.
I knew it was a threat showing me
he could still order his men to kill Anika.
I got out of the car,
from my head down, defeated.
I slammed the car door shut harder than was necessary.
You said you'd make it quick,
and Anika will be safe.
I said to him with disdain,
at least honour something you say.
Mikhail stood still like a statue
before I realised she was concentrating
on turning back into his human form.
He couldn't talk in wolf form,
so of course he'd want to gloat and monologue before he killed me.
Mikhail shrunk half a foot and his wolfhead returned to normal.
His white fur gave way to his pale naked skin.
A familiar smirk quickly found its way across his perfect face.
He stood proudly in his nudity, like the cold had no effect.
White fur wilted off him in soggy clumps,
the moonlight from the street reflecting off his sculpted black.
body. He stretched his muscles by rotating his shoulder and cracking his neck and jaw.
Mikhail bent down to retrieve a silver revolver from the snow by his feet. He dusted it off and
checked the cylinder for ammo. Satisfied, he flicked the weapon back shut and motion for me to step
forward. Arrogance and bravado exuded off him like a thick stench. All of this was for show
to dominate me one more time before my death.
I'll make it quick like I promised.
He chatted cordially, spinning the gun around on his fingers.
I'll have to shoot you at an angle, I think.
He said, outstretching his arm to point the gun at my neck,
then twisting his wrist to point the barrel upwards slightly.
I'll shoot you up through the neck and into the skull.
Of course I'll have to rip your head off in my wolf form to make it look like a proper kill.
He smiled sadistically.
But is my sister safe?
I asked meekly, taking a small step towards my killer.
He crooked an eyebrow at me.
For now, he said.
Once I've gained some seniority in the clan,
I'll talk with Niko about making a trade with me for one of my harem girls.
Nico may be royalty, but he's weak-willed and easily persuaded.
Now, come, he snapped.
Kneel before me.
I walked up within arm's distance.
of him, but refused to kneel. He looked about and smiled wider. As you wish, whore,
die on your feet like you aren't used to being on your knees. Mekar was thoroughly enjoying
himself as he looked around the deserted underpass. Where's your guard dog? He didn't tag along.
Mekar mentioned as he scanned the darkness and inside of the stolen car. You cut him loose.
Mikhail finally stated
Oh, that is some actual character development for you.
I thought you hated all, then.
No matter.
He's been marked for death anyways.
He can't be left alive after being bit on the full moon.
We can't have strays running around now, can we?
Well, I hadn't noticed the moon.
I guess it would have to be a full moon on the night of the sacred hunt.
I barely noticed the sky during all the violence and commotion.
Sean had been bitten and infected on this supernatural night.
The clan would not let him survive for long as a newly turned wall.
Mikhail pointed his pistol and I scrambled to buy more time.
I don't hate all men, just chauvinist assholes like you.
You want to know why?
I teased with a sarcastic smile.
I saw a litany of emotions cross his arrogant face.
At first it was anger.
I thought he'd pull the tree.
trigger on impulse. The second was hurt and general amazement. How could a woman dislike such a
specimen as he? And so his face resigned to smug curiosity, and he stilled his hands.
Oh, why, dear whore? he snickered, trying to hide his genuine interests. I was about to
emotionally unload on him. I was going to tell him everything I hated about his sadistic face,
and his sadistic clan, and how they'd systematically ruin my life.
I felt the tears began to flow as I began to open my mouth.
Mikhail, what the hell do you think you're doing?
Came a voice in the wolf's native language.
We both turned to see an older man jogging up, obviously limping and favoring his chest.
It was the wolf that Sean had wounded lightly in the beginning,
and the cop had shut multiple times before the wolf.
through the cop through the windshield.
The wolf was haggard and grey.
Obviously he was the oldest of the pack,
but his muscles were corded and rippling through his flesh.
His face was the only thing human.
None of your business, old man.
I'm ending the hunt.
Just had the gun out in case her Rambo bodyguard decided to show up.
Mikhail shouted disrespectfully at his elder.
The elder stiffened, not taking the upstarts bullshit.
He sniffed the air lightly and looked around, like you didn't feel the animosity coming from Mikhail.
What are you doing here anyways?
Meet up at the construction site and we'll end the ceremony there, Mikhail demanded.
The elder huffed and used his pointer human fingers to wipe his eyes as he continued in their guttural tongue.
Ah, I was looking out for you, Pop.
This is your night, isn't it?
That smelled wolfblood.
My sensitive hearing hasn't gone yet either
So now I know you're playing your own games to cheat and win
I'll have to tell Alexi of your blatant disregard for our sacred rule
I saw Mikhail flinch as the elder continues
I meanwhile snuck back to the cover of the open driver's seat of the car
Furthermore pup
The wounded elder tried to continue through wheezing breaths
But was interrupted with multiple shots from Mikhail's pitiful
slamming into his exposed human face, neck and injured wolf body.
The elder clasped in the snow like a bloody snow angel,
steam and heat rising from his dying body.
Don't lecture me, you old bastard.
Mikhail yelled at the dead elder.
Oh shit, now I'm out of ammo, said Mikhail, at the sight of his empty pistol.
I guess I can blame it on your toy boy you had shooting at everyone,
as he threw his empty gun on the ground.
Mikhail looked up at the full moon peeking lowly over the buildings with intense concentration.
Finally, he spoke with a jovial voice.
Oh, if I can make a Mr. Brightside reference, I'll be coming out of this cage doing just fine, right?
He smiled his gorgeous smile.
Ah, the elder was a massive, dickless blow-heart, and I get to kill you as slow as I always wanted now.
I was too busy scrambling around inside my rusted white Buick
to really notice all the dumb stuff Mikhail was saying
but I could hear the naked Mikhail slowly begin to tread towards the vehicle
Mikhail was stopped by a hissing laughter coming from the dying elder in his makeshift's snow grave
Mikal stopped and turned a look at his betrayed glansman
foolish young pub
quietly the elder weised in common tongue
I smelt the blood of a wall
you don't even use your own powerful senses greatly
what are you talking about you mangy mutts
just die already will you
michael barked
in jury michael's tirade
the trunk of the Buick popped open
and a lithe figure stepped out to the passenger's side door
and aimed an awkwardly bright yellow weapon at him
There are two of them, you dumbass.
You didn't smell the one in the trunk.
The elder croaked with his dying breath.
Mikhail turned to see Sean posted up against the passenger's side of the Buick,
aiming what looked like a bright yellow shotgun of Mikhail.
A beanbag round flew at sonic speed to rocket towards Mikhail's proudest target.
The bag pelted him right in his exposed and unprotected genitals.
and the albino man led out a gasping whimper and collapsed into a fetal position.
Sean racked loose the spent shell and loaded another non-lethal beanbag round into the yellow shotgun.
I just wish cops had real guns, not this hugger-fuck bullshit.
Sean yelled in righteous anger as he pointed the barrel down at the whimpering Mikhail's face.
Another beanbag rocked Mikhail's face into a bloody mess, sending him spiraling into unconsciousness.
Sean's anger wasn't satisfied as he flipped the shotgun over to beat Mikhail's limp body with.
That won't work, Sean, I cried.
When they're close to death, they heal crazy quick.
Beating him will make him even stronger.
Sean paused mid-pommel, Mikhail already convulsing violently.
What about the old-timer? Is he dead?
It must have been silver bullets in Mikhail's gun.
He was always paranoid of the wolves around him.
that or Mikhail landed a killing shot on the weakened elder wolf.
I explained quickly.
I got in the car and honked.
Sean stared down at Mikhail's mangled face in pure anger,
his eyes glinting.
I honked louder to snap him out of his rage.
Ah, less than lethal bullshit.
Why can't cops carry real weapons anymore?
He growled as he tossed the yellow shotgun into the darkness.
He gritted his teeth,
and I thought he wouldn't turn to listen.
me. It's almost over, Sean, I pleaded.
Grab his phone and come on. It has all the evidence we need to save both of us.
He had it rigged against us from the beginning, and the dead wolf has silver bullets on him.
Dick one of those out for if we see Alexey.
Sean grumbled and kicked around in the snow before coming to his senses and swiping up Mikhail's
old flip phone. He then unceremoniously walked over to the dead elder wolf and jammed his
hand into a gunshot wound in his neck to retrieve a clump of silver and blood.
Mikhail was starting to moan, and his smashed face was returning to its perfect countenance again.
Sean finally relented, I slid into the passenger's seat beside me.
The four moons healing both of you quickly, I gasped.
We need to get to the safe house and end this.
As I put the car into reverse, I could already see Mikhail sit up and blink the groginess out of his eyes.
Sean let out a low growl at him.
We drove for the next five minutes around the Wicker construction site's fence.
Hastily spray-painted wooden signs pointed us to the correct entrance.
We finally arrived at a set of turnstiles surrounded by a high fence with razor wire stretched across the tall.
We turned off the car and cautiously made our way to the spinning metal bars.
Hopefully it would allow both of us to enter through the revolving bars,
but Sean let me go first.
We thankfully made it through the turnstiles
to enter a large, sparse, concrete lot,
littered with lamps,
construction equipment,
and boxy metal buildings.
One of the building's front doors
was open with an inviting yellow glow from inside.
So that's the finish line.
Sean's dead, more as a statement.
It's obviously a trap.
Yep, I said as we trushed towards the
welcoming lights.
A massive figure stepped up to the doorframe, cutting off the warm light.
It was Alexi in full wolf form, with his two-toned eyes of golden green and black fur
with white around his eyes.
He was having to duck in the trailer, and he stepped out onto the stairs and turned his
body to motion with his hands for us to pass into the room.
What hell is this?
I said suspiciously.
Nothing, Alexi said through his deep wolf voice.
Years of experience had taught him to speak while in wolf form.
You cheated, but you knew you had to defeat Mikhail.
It was his test, and he failed.
I walked past Alexi into the office.
It was warm and well lit, with bottles of water and sandwiches on a side table.
Sean went to follow, and Alexi stepped in his way, poking a sharpened,
bone claw into his chest. Not you, boy. You killed an honored pack member and injured many more.
You've taken a bite from me and have already begun the change. The ancient rules declare your
death. I watched Sean take a step back and raise his fists in a pitiful attempt to challenge
the gigantic Alexi. Sean began sniffing the air and a look of horror washed over his face.
Sean backed further out into the snowy yard and Alexey followed
Sean's head whipped back and forth
searching the darkness around him
I stepped forward to the door's edge to see what Sean was looking at
there were multiple sets of glowing eyes flanking him out of the darkness
at least ten sets of eyes in total
towering over him and drawing closer and closer in a tightening circle
At this point the ten lumbering wolves entered the light spilling out the doorway, towering above him standing upright.
Many I hadn't seen before, some I had.
Sean sighed a deep sigh of defeat and dropped his guard.
His shoulders slumped.
Stand the mutt up for me to see him, Alexie barked out into the crowd.
Alexi made a quick motion with his head, and two unknown wolves shot out to grab Sean by either shone.
shoulder. Sean pulled back with a growl and his eyes flashed gold for a moment, but he quickly
realized he was not getting away. The two wolves held Sean tightly as Alexi walked down the short
steps towards him, to lift up his chin in his clawed hand to look down directly into Sean's
gold eyes. You have two options, the guttural mix of beast and man issued from Alexi's throat.
You interfered with our sacred hunt, and resolved.
in the deaths of two of my clan.
Sean's face was stoic, but the cold was making him shiver.
Our ancient rules dictate death to the outsider,
but I'm a reasonable packmaster,
and I know the trickier wiles of the female.
He growled at Sean.
Once more, I have fought you,
and you showed no regard for yourself above her.
You drew on me and fired in an instant so she could escape.
That may be the reason I went for the shoulder instead of the neck.
Honor is a rare trait among humans.
So, you spared me, Sean said quietly,
looking down from the intimidating aura of Alexi.
Do I join you a little were...
Alexi moved in a flash and snatched up Sean by his throat,
lifting him up two feet to be face-level with Alexi.
Like you and the girl found out,
McHale was an honourless cheater and cowards.
I may have suspected, but I guess the female knew from the beginning,
so she felt she needed to cheat herself.
Alexi looked back at me with contempt.
He then sat the blue-faced Sean back down and continued.
You kill Mikhail and join as a new pub in the clan,
or you refuse and you die right here.
After coughing a bit, Sean straightened to look Alexi's square in the eyes now.
So I meant to hunt an experienced wolf who can transform.
Last I saw him he was healing from a broken face under an underpass.
There was a series of barks behind Sean, causing him to turn, and I saw the last thing I expected to see.
Two fully morphed wolves were dragging a naked Mikhail in human form.
They pushed him forward towards Sean and Alexi.
So, I heard the deal, Pac-master.
I'm to let this pleb kill me.
Mikhail said opulently, still not ashamed of his nudity.
No, Mikhail.
Alexi growled over Sean's shoulder.
If you kill this mutt, we give you 24 hours to leave the country.
You'll be exiled from the clan.
The network system of human followers you've accumulated are being hunted down as we speak.
Alexi shrugged.
Maybe another weaker clan will take you on eventually.
if you can kill this human right now.
Three things happened at once.
Mikhail smiled sadistically.
Sean took up a fighting stance with a look of horror,
and I screamed.
That's not fair.
It's slaughter, a wolf to a lamb.
I was particularly proud of that last allegory,
and Alexei turned again to consider me.
I didn't mention the rules, he barked.
In order to join the New Ely clan, you must have cunning as much as brute force.
He turned to Mikhail and said coldly,
You fight this man in human form,
I'll have you ripped apart by your former clansman.
The smug look on Mikhail's face faltered,
and he looked around at the seriously imposing wolves forming a circle around him, Sean and Alexi.
Alexi walked backwards to join the circle.
begin he growled mccal was the first to strike with a one-two slash with his arms the first one caught
shorn's right eye and cheek with a bloody scratch and shone blocked the other strike by raising his elbow
mccal winced at having his soft human hand collide with shorn's hard elbow and he stepped back
while trying to shake the pain out of his injured wrist sean touched the bloody scratches on his cheek and smiled
I think he realized what I realized at the same time.
Mikha was a weakling in human form.
I would like to say Mikhail put up a valiant effort,
but I'm not going to lie for that shit.
Sean got within his reach and beat his naked ass all through the snow
with throat punches and elbows and eye gouges.
I'd seen how efficient Sean was at ending fights,
so I knew he was taking his time with Mikhail.
finally Sean delivered a low kick to the inside of Mikhail's knee causing him to crumple to his other knee in the snow
Mikhail tried to stand but Sean performed a devastating downwards elbow like an axe to the top of Mikhail's head
Mikhail staggered and almost toppled over in the snow if Sean hadn't swooped him behind him
and wrapped him up in a chokehold he would have done. Sean arched backwards lifting Mikhail's
bare toes out of the snow.
Mikhail kicked and weezed grogily.
This was it.
Sean was going to strangle Mikhail to death in the next couple of seconds.
True to Mikhail's nature, or just survival instincts,
his body exploded in mass,
his rapidly expanding back and neck muscles flinging Sean off of him.
The white fur sprouted instantly to cover him,
and his already albino eyes glowed red.
Wolf Mikhail turned around to face Sean laying on his back in the snow.
His bone claws grew to around ten inches in length, and drool ran from his mouth like a frothy waterfall.
Mikhail was about to pounce on Sean for the kill, before the enormous black mass of Alexi stepped up between them.
Mikhail looked at Alexi in surprise, which quickly turned to anger.
Mikhail swiped his long right-cloid Alexi
only for it to be caught by Alexi's black furred, muscled hand.
There was a wicked snap as Alexi broke Mikhail's wrist with just his grasp.
Mikhail attempted to let out a howl of pain
before Alexi seized the bottom part of Mikhail's jaw and ripped downwards,
sickly ripping Mikhail's bottom jaw and most of his throat out in a gory mess.
To finish it off, Alexi used
both hands to grab Mikhail and snap his neck with a vicious twist.
Mikhail finally fell dead to the ground.
While Sean had been playing with him earlier, Alexi was obviously done playing.
After the shot wore off and the warm blood pulled around the dead Mikhail,
the wolves eagerly helped Sean to his feet.
I heard a door open behind me in the office and was hit with cold air.
an assent of cologne. It was Nico's cologne. I turned my head to face him. He was handsome and rugged
like his father, but with kind eyes and dimples from constant smiles. He was dressed immaculately
in a fitted suit. He stared at me forlornly for a while. I could almost see a tear forming in his
eye. Don't, Nico, I command it gently. Don't show weakness to them. I was never going to survive
the night after all the havoc I caused I only wanted a Nika to survive I said tears now in my
eyes Nika walked up close behind me now she'll be fine she'll be safe father says there's only one
catch he trailed off you must kill me I answered him the two of us started all this
we must end it I felt him
nod in agreement behind me.
Outside the ten wolves held Sean upright.
I'd seen the ceremony before.
All the wolves were by the new recruit on a full moon
to seal his initiation into the pack.
The wolves gathered around Sean
and outstretched his arms for a good place to bite him.
I could feel Nico's bone claw
tickling my neck.
Sean and I looked at each other in terror.
but in an instant it disappeared from both our faces he and I were determined take care of a Nika I said
I will Niko whispered back as he slipped my throat with his claw blood flowing freely over my red scar
as my vision faded I saw Sean nod to me Sean knew I was talking to him not Nico
Sean wasn't a wolf
He was a protector
And if he found me worthy of protecting
For sure he would my little sister
Then all the wolves bit Sean at once
And my vision faded to black
As Nico cradled me
And so once again
We reached the end of tonight's podcast
My thanks as always to the authors
Of those wonderful stories
And to you for taking the time to listen
Now, I'd ask one small for your review.
Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast.
That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more.
Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.
