Things that Go Bump in the Night

Chapter 51: Part 3: The Beast that Kills

               A/N: Hello again (awkward wave)! Hope this scratches the good old 3 year itch :) 

The white wolf lunged in a blur, too fast for eyes to track. The rifle's recoil bit into my shoulder as the blast of artillery vibrated in my eardrums. The werewolf expertly dodged the first round, but the next two shots hit true regardless of evasion. The spray of blood as the bullets struck the monster in shoulder stained the beast's ivory coat black in the moonlight, but did nothing to deter the beast's progression toward me. I had barely enough time to turn the rifle before it was on me, teeth lunging toward my throat. The beast's canines locked on the steel of the rifle, shaking me like a rag doll as its claws dug into my side, dragging a wail of pain from my throat.

With a rapid shake of fangs, the beast managed to rip the rifle from my clenched grip easily, throwing it far out of reach. Before it could turn back for its next bite, my hand stabbed one of my daggers into the creature's neck, eliciting the first sound from the white wolf.

A sharp surprised howl of pain developing into a snarl the promised retribution.

The moment of triumph was short lived because the earth quite literally rumbled under my feet. A shock wave buckled my knees to the ground and the beast fell away from me with a sharp gurgle. We were forced apart from the shifting earth, and my gaze was forced to the sky. A plume of ink rose into the sky, obscuring the outline of the moon.

I scrambled to my feet, my fright increasing as my ability to see anything was distorted by the lack of moonlight. I needed to find the rifle; I needed to get the fuck out of here. Patches of moonlight began to return only to restart the terror.

The demon was before me, towering over me on its hind legs.

The white beast raised one monstrous paw and slapped me across the cracked earth with brutal force. I barely had enough time to take the impact, before the beast was on me again, lunging for my throat. The sight of the creature's teeth sunk into the flesh of my upraised arm ripped a scream of agony from my lips as I felt the bones underneath its grip crack, my forearm twisting at an acutely wrong angle between its teeth.

Its eyes were locked onto mine as it broke my arm with ease, cold emotionless eyes that betrayed no fear and promised death.

Pain. Fear. Helplessness. These feelings scream inside of me, making my vision darken and my whole body shake in horror.

All my strength can accomplish nothing.

Everything I have is not enough.

Before I can think that these would be my final moments, the white wolf was quite literally ripped away from me, teeth dragging out of my arm with enough force to send me sprawling.

Tears uncontrollably well in my eyes as pain throbs through my body and I fight to get my bearings. Through blurred vision, I see the white wolf square off with me again, my blood staining its muzzle and dripping from its elongated fangs as it snarls in my direction.

I try to rise off my front, cradling by broken arm, but movement above me halts my struggles. A dark shadow spreads across the desert above me, blocking out the moonlight as a rumbling growl bites deep into my spine. The white wolf lunges again but the dark shadow moves above me, meeting the Wolf of Agunta in a brutal clash of claws and teeth.

I stare in disbelief as two wolves battle in front of me. The White wolf of a Agunta and a terrible black shadow circle each other with malicious intent. The bright moonlight casts a silver lining over the black creature's gaunt form, separating it from the darkness. Bones protrude from dark fur, shaky legs hold the beast in a fighting stance, hideous scars decorate its body like cruel artwork, and broken teeth snarl back at the White Wolf in challenge.