"Think we should head back," said Gerald, his voice barely above a whisper.
His heart pounded heavily as fear crept into his massive frame. He felt like a coward, despite his size. But he was right to be scared; the forest around them was terrifying on that moonless night.
The wind whispered through the trees, almost as if it were giving a warning. They stood like quiet sentinels in the pitch-black night, creating an eerie atmosphere. It felt as if something non-human was watching them from the shadows.
A pattern of scurrying feet could be heard- it belonged to three hunters. Not just any hunters, but werewolf hunters.
Cyrus, tall and broad-shouldered, led the line with a rifle slung over his shoulder. Abby followed, quick and silent. Gerald, the big guy, trailed behind, stepping cautiously as if ready to run at the first sign of trouble.
"We are close," Cyrus whispered, scanning the trees, boulders, and the grass littered with fallen twigs. He was onto something.
"The fucker's close. I can smell him," he said in a deep, dragging voice.
"I don't like this," Gerald complained. "This shit creeps me out. I ain't gonna lie... I think I'm gonna piss my pants."
"C'mon dude, it's always scary the first time," Abby said. "You'll get used to it once we kill this rotten bastard. It's like losing your virginity."
Cyrus paused in his tracks, looked back, and grinned. Even in the darkness, Gerald couldn't miss it.
"You think that's funny?" Gerald asked, the color rising in his face.
"Yeah," Cyrus smirked, his voice dripping with mockery. "You might also need to lose your virginity in real life too."
There was a short silence.
"I might be scared of werewolves, but not humans. Say that again and watch me cut you down where you stand, asshole," Gerald growled.
"Let's see you try, big boy. I'll kill you before the werewolf does," hissed Cyrus.
They had been fighting for a while now, and the tension had been building to a boiling point. Abby felt it necessary to break up the fight. They had kept her on edge the whole night.
"For Christ's sake, knock it off, you two!" she snapped. "Two grown-ass men fighting like toddlers."
She paused as if contemplating what to say next. "We won't catch this motherfucker if you both keep going off your rockers. That means we don't get paid!"
Cyrus turned, muttered a curse, and continued walking down the path. Abby and Gerald followed, their boots crunching softly over fallen twigs.
"This is it," Cyrus whispered.
"Brace yourself," Abby said grimly to Gerald. He nodded, trying to maintain a cool composure, but it didn't work. He started shaking like a leaf.
"There!" Cyrus said and stopped moving. They could make out a wooden house surrounded by towering trees in the darkness. Abby reached for the hilt of her silver-edged blade.
"Let's get this fucker," she said.
She was the first to summon the courage to move toward the wooden house. Cyrus looked back at Gerald and grinned.
"Seems like the girl's got bigger balls than you, big boy," he mocked. Gerald was too shaken to respond. Cyrus turned and caught up to Abby. Gerald hesitated before following.
Abby glanced at the others and then nodded to Cyrus. He pushed the door, which creaked open slowly. They were welcomed by a musty smell.
They stepped in cautiously, slow and alert, one person at a time. Cyrus went first, followed by Abby, and then Gerald last. The floorboards groaned under their weight.
"The bastard's here," Cyrus whispered.
"Stay close," Abby signaled to Gerald. He obeyed the command and moved even closer.
"Come out, little doggy. Come out-come out wherever you are," Cyrus said in a low voice.
And as if it had been heard, there was noise upstairs followed by a scary silence.
Cyrus raised his rifle, resting it easily on his arms while the muscles in his body coiled in preparation. Abby tightened her grip on her silver blade. Gerald shivered, shotgun raised on his shoulder.
"Here it comes!" shouted Cyrus, his eyes sweeping through the shadows.
"Don't let the ugly fucker get you!" Abby screamed.
Too late.
The werewolf moved fast. Its claws flashed through the dark room, and its golden eyes glowed like two fireflies. Gerald fired blindly and missed. He cursed and fired again. The blasts echoed through the room.
The werewolf leaped past Cyrus, knocking him down. It bumped into Gerald's massive body, throwing him onto the floor. There was a brief struggle as Gerald tried to wrestle the beast off him. He screamed in pain as the werewolf's claws sank into his throat. The scream was cut short as it ripped out his windpipe.
"Bloody fucker!" Abby cried, surging forward with her silver blade aimed at the werewolf's back. It turned quickly, with razor-sharp reflexes, and batted her aside like a doll thrown into a wall. Her body slammed against the wooden wall, and she dropped to the floor, knocked out cold.
"Now's my chance," Cyrus muttered, almost loudly. He dropped to one knee, took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The bullets were silver rounds. The werewolf staggered from the impact.
But it didn't go down.
He fired again. Point blank. It fell with a huge thud.
It gasped, blood pouring from its mouth and chest.
"Gotcha mother fucker," Cyrus cursed.
He approached slowly, the rifle still raised. He kicked the werewolf's legs. It looked human. If not for the claws, fangs, and golden eyes, it'd be human. He kicked it again. It snarled and jumped up surprisingly, knocking him to the floor. His rifle skidded into the darkness.
Pain rippled through his left leg. His senses kicked in, and he started rolling.
The werewolf loomed above him, five feet tall, with burning golden eyes. But it had been weakened by the bullets in its chest. It snarled and growled. Cyrus held its arms as it tried to reach for his throat. Claws tore through the sleeves of his leather jacket and grazed his skin. He didn't bulge.
He screamed back managing to lock the werewolf's right arm between his legs. It growled weakly, in pain. Adrenaline surged as Cyrus felt an alien superhuman strength explode within him.
His left hand found the hilt of his silver blade.
Summoning every ounce of strength in his body, Cyrus tightened his legs pinning the werewolf even more. In a single motion, he drove the blade into its stomach.
It let out a dying scream. The last kick of a dying horse. It writhed in pain, struggling for freedom, but Cyrus held it, twisting the blade deeper.
Finally, it stopped, and blood poured onto Cyrus' body. He pushed it off and struggled to his feet. Limping badly. The werewolf looked up, growling weakly, eyes glowing with something that looked like death. It wasn't dead yet.
"You felt it didn't you?" It rasped.
Cyrus looked down at it, panting."What?"
"That .....power. You're not human," It said in a low-fading voice.
"The fuck did you just say?" Cyrus said in a more attentive voice. He wore a puzzled expression on his face.
"There's a wolf in you- It's only a matter of time.....They will come for you," The werewolf grinned. Then silence. The golden eyes went cold.
Cyrus froze for a moment. "The fuck was he talking about.?" He thought. He had felt that huge alien power, sure. "What was that power?" His heart began pounding fast, as uncertainty crept in.
His thoughts were disturbed by a soft groan behind him. It was Abby, she was alive but unconscious.
He limped towards where Gerald lay. He was a bloody mess. Done for. There was nothing he could do for him. The werewolf had gotten him before he did. He turned, limping towards Abby.
"Let's get you out of here, baby girl," he said, carrying her in his arms. She was surprisingly heavy. He went outside and slid into the darkness. Something was strange. It felt as if someone had been watching. He didn't care, he had to get Abby to a doctor. He disappeared into the thick darkness limping towards where they had left their bikes.