Cyrus' cruiser motorcycle roared along the narrow road of Victoria Town. Loud and aggressive, the pavement cracks under its tires. The Town's lights had vanished behind him. The only light was a soft glow from his headlamp. He was alone, surrounded by large trees on the roadside and the company of moths on his light.
It was lonely, sure, but he didn't notice. His mind was tying itself into knots. Cyrus was thinking about the werewolf from the wooden house. Thinking about what it had said to him.
"There's a wolf in you."
Those words kept on nagging him. Could it be true? Was he one of them? It wasn't impossible. There was no explanation for the exploding power that he had felt back there. His sprained ankle had healed overnight. Well, this was the reason he had decided to take this job. He had to find out no matter the cost. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to test out that mysterious power. To find out who he really was.
He left the highway and turned onto a dirt country road.
"The farmhouse should be somewhere here."
It sat at the end of the dirt road. It looked like an abandoned castle. Two stories of ugly stone with a slumped roof. A windmill creaked in the distance. There was no other sound. Only the windmill and the motorcycle's dying engine.
Cyrus made a low whistle."This' one creepy house."
He started for the house, rifle in hand. He looked up studying the windows. There was a glow from a single window on the second floor. Someone was there. Something was there.
Cyrus thought he saw movement. A figure probably. It vanished as soon as he blinked. Maybe he hadn't seen anything in the first place, just his imagination. The porch groaned as he set his foot on it as if it were a guard dog reporting a stranger. He had been to many werewolf hunts before, but this one creeped the shit out of him. This was his first time going on a hunt alone without a team. There was some off about this hunt. Something unusual. Something unnatural.
Cyrus took a deep breath and then tried the handle. The door was not locked. There was a small clunk followed by a creak as the door opened. It was unsurprisingly dark inside, except for the soft yellow glow that came from upstairs. There was no need to waste his time downstairs, Cyrus decided. His target was on the first floor.
He climbed slowly, the stairs groaning softly beneath each careful step. The darkness began to ease as the glow of light grew stronger.
The hallway had a thin amber haze. The gentle glow of the firelight came from a door that was slightly ajar.
Cyrus approached slowly, like a cat, every step thorough and practiced. He pushed the door open and entered quietly.
The room was covered in shadows. Orange light from a low-burning fire lit the room, showing cracked walls that were once neatly plastered. The wooden floor had soot and debris from long years.
There was a large stone fireplace that dominated the room. Before the fire, in a wooden chair, sat a woman with her back turned. Her hair was long and pulled back tightly. Cyrus froze as if confused.
"It's rude to invite yourself in," The woman said, her voice calm and smooth. " Don't you know how to knock?"
Cyrus didn't answer, he was still perplexed. Why did it have to be a woman?. He had never hunted a female werewolf before.
"You're a brave guy for a human," the woman continued in her beautiful voice.
"You have a sexy voice for a werewolf," Cyrus said raising his rifle. It was a she alright, but it didn't change the fact that it was a werewolf.
"You think so?- Well, thank you," She said sarcastically, with her back still turned.
Cyrus paused. " You know what they say about this place? - Folks in town say it's cursed. Cursed with things like you."
"People say what they want. They say a lot of things to chase away their boredom."
"Have you been waiting?" Cyrus asked. " You heard me coming didn't you?"
"Waiting? Yes, I was. A long time ago," She said quietly, almost whispering.
"And now?"
The girl turned slightly, but not all the way. "Now you're here," She said, her voice much softer.
Cyrus took a step closer, stepping cautiously over the creaking wood. His eyes flicked to the fire, then back to her.
"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you," The girl warned.
"Oh yeah? And why's that?" Cyrus asked his voice tightening.
"Because the silence is gonna take you."
"You're speaking in riddles lady. I hate to break it to you, but I'm not the brightest dude around."
"I'm saying you are going to die here, Cyrus." The girl said, plainly.
Cyrus paused. " Who are you?" His voice was surprised. "How do you know my name?"
A sharp slam echoed through the room from behind him as the door closed. It closed with a violent force that made him almost jump. He spun around, his heart beating super fast.
The door was empty. That was odd. No wind. No footsteps.
"I'm right here!" A cold voice said.
Cyrus turned back and froze.
A man stood too close to him. Between him and the woman. Closer than anyone could ever get without making a sound. The firelight revealed pale skin and an open mouth with sharp fangs. Then the inhuman bright eyes. Molten gold eyes that looked predatory.
A werewolf. And a very fast one.
Cyrus felt his throat dry up. Never before had he ever seen anyone move so fast. His instincts argued him to get the fuck out of there. To run. This werewolf was far from normal. It was something he knew he couldn't beat. Worse off there were two of them. A male and a female. He couldn't fight them both.
But being Cyrus, he wasn't gonna let them simply kill him without trying. It wasn't his way.
He willed himself to calm down. He had to be. He was afraid, but being afraid wasn't going to save him. Being afraid wasn't going to kill his enemies.
"Things keep getting shittier," He said, his voice cracking with fear.
"Are you scared? Because you have every right to be," The newcomer said.
"You got him all spooked up Gilbert," The woman said, finally getting up from the chair. She turned and faced Cyrus.
Cyrus was stunned. The woman was more beautiful than her voice. She was striking and unforgettable. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, showing high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Her lips were full, soft, and inviting.
Her cat eyes gave her a wild and powerful look. With the glow of a werewolf. They were attractively dangerous.
"Werewolves have no right to be this beautiful," Cyrus said in a low voice. All his problems were suddenly cast aside. The only thing he could pay attention to at that moment was the woman. No, the girl was young, in her early twenties.
The girl's lips curved into a smile.
Her eyes suddenly reminded her of someone he'd seen before. His mind searched for her, but couldn't find her. Then he remembered Mr Chung. The bastard had mentioned a girl with cat eyes back in the Chinese bookshop.
It couldn't be.
"Stare too long and I will have to kill more slowly than I had intended to," Gilbert's voice said.
Cyrus snapped back to reality. He'd forgotten about the man- werewolf who still stood too close to him.
"It's not my fault you're a man and-. You look annoyingly ugly as well," Cyrus said. Gilbert raised a surprised eyebrow. Cyrus was just as surprised as Gilbert. He wondered where he was getting the balls to speak like that.
"You've got a sharp tongue don't you?" Gilbert snapped. " Wait till l rip it off your mouth.
"We're not killing him-," The girl said, her face flashing a warning." YET," she added.
" Relax, Tabeth, I wasn't gonna kill him; I just wanted to rip off his tongue," Gilbert said turning his back on Cyrus.
Cyrus saw an opportunity to blast Gilbert's head off. If he could pull it off, that would reduce his problems to one, the girl. She seemed harmless.
His hand twitched. He moved and jerked up the rifle from his shoulder, leveling it in one smooth motion.
But Gilbert was fast. He closed the short distance between them faster than a falling water drop. His hand snapped forward in a blur. The rifle was ripped from Cyrus before his hand touched the trigger. It clattered across the room, smashing into a wall.
Cyrus was stunned for the third time that day. The male werewolf, the beautiful she-wolf, and then the male werewolf again. His fear quadrupled, ripping into every inch of his body. It paralyzed him. For the first time in his twenty-four years of life, he felt like willingly shitting his pants.
Gilbert grinned, leaning forward, his mouth showing too many teeth.
" You don't know how to behave around superior beings. I was going to kill you later but fuck that. Fuck what Tabeth says. I'm gonna kill you now. I'm going to help you awaken that dormant werewolf power. You're gonna come back to life. Then I'm gonna kill you again, for good," Gilbert said, his voice low and trembling with rage. He looked at Tabeth as if waiting for her approval. She said nothing. She was giving him the green light.
"How the fuck do you know about my power?" Cyrus asked, confused and scared at the same time.
"Oh, we know a lot of things -love," Tabeth cut in with a tense voice. " We will talk later- for now you're going to die," She added flatly.
"Die?" Cyrus thought. " How will we be able to talk when I'm fucking dead." He wanted to scream, to beg even. His voice couldn't let him.
"Time to take a nap," Gilbert said, his eyes flaring with coldness.
His hand shot out and seized Cyrus by the throat. He growled and lifted him into the air effortlessly with one arm. Cyrus gagged and kicked violently, his legs swinging through the air whilst grabbing Gilbert's forearm.
He clawed at Gilbert's arm, the pressure crushing his windpipe. Panic surged like wildfire through his chest. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream. He was dying.
Is this it? Is this how I go out? In a forgotten room with werewolves?
His vision blurred. A strange calmness tried to take root inside him — the kind that comes when your brain knows you're about to die. But his heart raged against it.
I never found out the truth. Never found out what I am.
Memories flashed. The smell of Abby's perfume. Her warm breath. Her beautiful voice. The creak of leather boots. Nights spent patrolling with his old hunter crew. The way he used to laugh without fear. That damned voice in the wooden house:
"There's a wolf in you."
Why was that power letting him down now? When he needed it the most.
Maybe it was true. Maybe he'd wasted his life killing the very thing he was meant to be.
"I'm gonna make you feel the pain the werewolves you murdered felt," Gilbert snarled.
Cyrus' skin grew taut, his lips parted in a desperate gasp. No sound came. He started wheezing as he ran out of breath. He hoped that the power from the wooden house would manifest, that it could somehow help him out. I didn't.
"Give it to me!" Gilbert said to Tabeth.
She nodded and drew out a dagger. It was a long, sharp canine with a lethal edge. It had a pale ivory surface with veins of silvery grey. It was made from ancient werewolf fangs.
Tabeth handed it to Gilbert.
"I will be waiting for you, "Gilbert snarled, driving the dagger into Cyrus' chest with his free hand. The blade pierced through flesh and bone, sinking deep into his heart.
Cyrus' eyes widened with shock and pain. He groaned sharply. Gilbert held him a bit longer, watching the life slip out of him, eyes glowing with satisfaction. Then he let him loose.
Cyrus's body fell with a heavy thud. He felt weak like he was drowning in a sea of darkness. His eyes turned cold, slowly. His chest gave one last shuddering rise, then stilled.
Tabeth approached the lifeless body, crouched down, and touched Cyrus' neck.
"Is he dead?" Gilbert asked.
" Yes," She answered calmly.
Gilbert nodded in satisfaction. " How long do you think it will take?"
"Let's give him five minutes at best," She said." We should be ready for what's coming."