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The howling echoed through the trees as if its source lay in every direction. Gregor knew it well. It had followed him for weeks. On the night of the last full moon, he returned home to find the beast laying across his doorway. That was the first time he heard it. In the days since the howl continued to haunt him. Gregor tightened the grip on his axe as the sound grew louder. His daughter had been alone in the house that first night. He clenched his teeth at the thought. Tonight, he would silence that howl once and for all.

“I’ve got broken branches here,” called a voice from up ahead. Gregor lifted his torch to reveal Fennel crouched examining the bark at the base of a tree. “Fresh claw marks too. Big ones,” she said standing. “The youkai is close.”

Fennel was a slight woman, hardly any use in a fight, yet he reckoned she was the most valuable hunter in his group. In the years since he trained her, she had surpassed him in tracking and strategy. Mixed with a near superhuman calm under pressure, her skills made her the perfect battlefield general. In his mind, her judgment was second only to the word of God.

“You heard her,” Gregor said turning to face the other hunters. “Ready yourselves. The fighting starts soon.”

Including Gregor and Fennel, the group totaled six; every living hunter in Coventry. He wouldn’t underestimate the youkai, not again. Gregor walked through the group watching them prepare, ready to offer help where needed.

James and his wife Victoria stood side by side examining a set of glass vials. Blood selection was a vital part of the hunt; he decided to discuss strategy with them. But then James leaned over and planted a kiss on Victoria’s cheek, and then she laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. He would be more in the way than helping. Gregor left them to it.

Andor had knelt down to pray for blessing in battle; his faith was outmatched only by his marksmanship. But an affinity for range did bring its advantages. Andor had survived to middle age, a feat rare among hunters.

Gregor leaned down and said, “Ask him to give your hair back.”

Andor didn’t bother to raise his head. “Always do.”

Gregor wandered over to Angela. She was the youngest hunter in the village and her nerves were showing. She checked her weapon was loaded, then checked it again moments later. The poor girl; fourteen years of age and barely out of training. It was a cruel fate that God gave her this for her first hunt.

Gregor moved beside the young hunter and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Relax, You were trained by the best.”

Angela’s head sank. “Andrew was trained by Fennel as well.”

When Gregor felt her shaking he removed his hand and shifted his weight. There were six living hunters in Coventry, but two weeks ago there were seven. The air grew chill as if Andrew’s ghost stood between them.

“It was my fault,” Gregor admitted. “It should never have happened.”

He opened his mouth to let out a ragged breath and the words fell out. “It hadn’t killed anyone yet, just a few animals. I should have been more thorough. There are so many canine youkai, but I acted like one monster is the same as the next. I should have made sure I knew exactly what it was. Instead, I rushed the hunt. I shouldn’t have let him go alone.”

Gregor stopped. He wondered how any of that was meant to make Angela feel better. But the truth was he didn’t have anything that could ease Angela’s doubts or his own. Instead, when he spoke again his words come out half-hearted and unsure. “But there’s six of us now so try to relax. I’ll ensure you grow old and grumpy just like Andor.”

“Yeah,” Angela whispered eyes chained to the ground. Gregor sighed. He wished he could do more for her but inside he felt the same way. But he also felt he needed to come up with something. An eternity of searching for the right words might have passed had Fennel not addressed the group.

“Is everyone ready to move on?” she asked.

With no objections, the group followed her deeper into the woods. The trees made way for a small clearing. In their absence the grass had grown tall, fading to a bronze hue at the tips. Fennel continued forward pushing through the chest-high field. When she knelt in the center it looked like she disappeared into a sea of gold; the swaying of grass blades the only indication of her movement.

“Something’s wrong!” Fennel shouted.

Gregor sprinted over; the rest of the hunters followed close behind. Fennel reappeared above the grass as they reached her. “There are fresh tracks here but they’re headed in every direction,” She said. “It’s like the thing has been running in circles.”

“How fresh? Don’t tell me it’s right here.” Gregor lifted his torch but its flame couldn’t even scratch at the darkness. Victoria put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you still have the blood from that owl creature?” Her implication was clear. He looked down at the straight sword she carried. She had always favored close combat.

“You want to waste your blood choice like this?” Gregor asked. “Wouldn’t you prefer something that boosts your strength, or agility?”

“That’s not what the moment calls for. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

Gregor opened his satchel and produced a small wooden box. Inside was a row of glass vials in a neat line. He reached for the one labeled ‘Strix’ and handed it over. Victoria pierced her sword into the ground, then uncorked the vial. She held a deep breath, as if hesitating, then swallowed its contents. The moment hung, then she bent forward clenching her temples, dropping the empty glass to the ground. Her pained cry filled the silence. Heavy breaths heaved in her chest. A moment later as the pain passed she regained her composure and stood.

Victoria’s eyes took the appearance of pupilless gold orbs, an illusion caused by the reflection of light. The blood had changed them. Like a cat at night, she could now cut through the veil of darkness. Gregor held his breath as she scanned the edge of the woods around the clearing.

“It’s here!” she shouted.

Gregor turned and met an inky blackness. Another howl rang from the dark. Gregor’s skin crawled. He raised his torch hoping to extend the light’s range when two points of green flame mirrored the rise in the darkness.

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Before he could ready his axe Gregor found himself on the ground. Looking up through the grass he could just make out Victoria’s arm outstretched. Then the arm disappeared in a snap of teeth. Gregor stared into eyes that burned with green fire. The mouth of a huge black canine smiled at him with a devil’s grin. The beast thrashed its head about. Blood and slobber splashed onto him as he watched Victoria’s body crash against the dog’s muzzle. With a whip of its head, the woman took flight.

Victoria landed with a sick crunch. Her body rolled several feet cutting a deep gash in the tall grass. Gregor turned back to the youkai to find its attention focused on him. Thick drool glistened off pointed teeth. Gregor groped for his axe. A white wisp of smoke drew his attention to the torch; extinguished by the fall. But where was the axe? He needed his axe.

Two gunshots rang out. The muzzle flash bathed the area in brief flashes of light. The dog reared back; blood dripping from behind its front leg.

“Nice hit, Andor. Give it another.” Halfway up a tree at the edge of the clearing a flickering light hung in the air. A torch. And behind it, Fennel stood trying to direct the chaos. Gregor met her eyes.

“Your axe is 3 feet to your left,” she shouted. “Just beyond it is Victoria. Check on her.”

Gregor scrambled for his weapon. He reached it as another gunshot rang out. The youkai let out a cry so loud it sent ripples through the grass. Gregor turned to find the creature sitting upright throwing its head toward the sky with a howl. Its ribcage unfolded; its chest blooming like a meat flower. The flames burning in its gaze roared forth from the youkai’s open chest and a pale green overtook the clearing.

The sound of Fennel giving orders blurred into the background. Gregor rushed to Victoria’s side as more gunshots ripped the air. He found her trying to tie the cloth of her cloak around what remained of her arm. It had been ripped clean off below the shoulder. Gregor wrapped the stub as tight as he could manage and by the time he tied the cloth in place, it was already soaked through.

Gregor searched through his box of vials. There was blood that could aid healing, at least enough to close the wound, but she still had the strix blood in her stomach. He knew mixing was ineffective but he needed to try anyway. He pulled the vial free and flipped away the cork into the darkness.

The body didn’t pull the blood all at once, most of it sat in the stomach waiting to be burned, and he was about to add another vial to the tank. It wouldn’t give her both powers at full strength, or even half strength. Instead, they would fluctuate wildly as the body pulled blood in random ratios. Except her survival hinged on the full healing power of this blood. The odds were abysmal. Like flipping a coin and getting 1000 tails in a row.

“Tell James I love him,” Victoria said.

Gregor shoved the vial into her mouth and tilted it up. “You’ll be able to tell him yourself.”

Gregor silently put forth a prayer to his God. Please don’t make me a liar. Shine your love down on your loyal subject and bless her with healing. I pray this in your mercy and grace. Your will be done. He stood and turned to rejoin the fight.

“Gregor, wait,” Victoria cried after him. He turned back to find her shielding her eyes against the light the youkai gave off.

“Blindfold me with your tie,” she said. Gregor hated to see the effects of her night vision bothering her so heavily. It meant she was losing her gamble. But that was something only God had control over. He had to work within human means and so he pulled his necktie free and wrapped it around Victoria’s eyes.

“Thanks… Gregor.” Her voice came horse and weak but somehow she had a smile on her face. She lifted her remaining arm to reveal a handgun. “I’ll just aim by sound,” she said. “God knows that thing’s loud enough. Hell, it’s so bright I might see it through the cloth anyway.”

Gregor stood and looked back to Fennel.

“The youkai’s closed in on Andor!” She said.

Andor was a marksman, close combat would be a struggle for him. Gregor rushed forward as huge paws slammed down to the ground. The continued swipes from the dog gave him hope his friend was still alive. Gregor pulled the cork off another blood vial as he ran, then placed it between his lips preparing to strike.

“Hurry, Andor’s pinned down,” Fennel said.

The beast raised its paw. Huge claws glistened against moonlight. Gregor wasn’t fast enough, he would never reach it in time. The youkai began to swipe its paw when its head throttled to the side; blood sprayed from its neck. One of Victoria’s shots had found its mark. Gregor took advantage of the opportunity and jumped at the youkai. While in the air, he tilted his head back drinking the vial’s contents.

A searing pain ripped across Gregor’s arms. He bit down hard shattering the glass. Every muscle tightened near to the point of snapping, then relaxed. Gregor buried his axe. The blood had strengthened his arms enough that the blade disappeared to the handle. He pulled back preparing for a second strike but the axe refused to move. The creature shook like a wet dog. Gregor clutched desperately to the axe handle.

“James, the legs,” Fennel’s voice called. Her directions warbled from ear to ear as Gregor was thrashed around.

“On it,” James’s voice called out. A ripping sounded and a warm wetness splashed on Gregor’s face.

“It didn’t even flinch,” James said. Gregor knew what weapon James used. A large serrated blade like a wood saw. A cruel weapon on the best of days. Yet the creature gave no reaction. Doubts crept into Gregor’s mind. Could they even kill it? Would they all die here tonight?

The beast spun in place, swinging its huge paw like a club. A long gash appeared in the grass with James’s body laying at the far end against the trunk of a tree. Gregor was next. One hard buck was all it took. His grip failed and he was airborne. He landed hard. His vision faded and he struggled to pull breath. Rolling onto his side Gregor watched the blurred human shapes continue their fight. He reached up to his head and felt a wet warmth. Was it his blood or the dog’s? Probably both he decided. Gregor struggled to his feet. His vision cleared enough to see a head moving atop the grass like a stone skipping across water.

It was Angela. She rushed toward the youkai, then slid forward sinking below the surface of the grass. Two shots echoed from below the beast’s chest. It cried in agony. Green fire flared over the sides of its exposed ribs bathing it in flame. There was a wet slap; the sound of spilling an entire bucket of water back into a well. Without a clear view, Gregor was left to his grim imagination.

Blood raining down on Angela like a typhoon; the girl desperately pressing fresh shells into her shotgun. A chill ran down his spine at the thoughts. He ran towards her but only two steps in he hit the ground. His shaking legs refused to carry him, but he struggled to his feet and tried anyway.

He looked up in time to see the creature’s chest close back up returning the forest to darkness. Then Angela fired another shot. In the flash, Gregor watched the beast leap into the air, and in the dark, he heard it come crashing back down. The impact threw a wind that almost blew Gregor over. Heavy footsteps shook the earth as the beast retreated deeper into the woods.

A dull thump sounded beside Gregor and a torch ignited pulling Fennel’s face from the darkness. She used the flame to light a second torch and handed it to him. It was time to assess the carnage.

Fennel ran immediately to Angela. The grass around her lay flat like a crop circle; her body at the center. Angela had been crushed under the youkai’s weight; she was dead. Snot and tears ran in streams down Fennel’s face. She shook the girl’s limp body and called her name as if she was trying to wake her from a bad dream. Except she was the one living the nightmare. Those two had been close, Fennel was the one to train her after all. Angela’s death would be hard on her, and so Gregor left her to mourn. Or maybe he was just too cowardly to face her.

I need to check on Victoria, that’s why.

The shaking wracking Gregor’s body made it hard to convince himself it was true. He turned and drove his fist into a nearby tree. It creaked and cracked as bark splintered and fell away.

Control yourself, Gregor, you haven’t come down from your enhancement yet.

He had to stay strong. He was supposed to be their leader. Gregor found James at his wife’s side. He held her hand tenderly in his own and wept. Her skin had lost all color like she was made from fine paper. At some point during the fight, she had bled out. Gregor’s plea to God had been summarily rejected. He watched James in silence. Like Fennel, he would need time to come to terms with what had happened before he was ready to hear any platitudes. Not that he had any right to give them. There were six hunters under his watch, and only three were still alive.

Andor took a place beside Gregor. “We made a right dog’s dinner out of this, didn’t we?”

“Not the best choice of words.”

Andor took a sharp breath, then tried again. “We really fucked this one up, huh?”

“Whether it was us or not, it’s been fucked,” Gregor replied. He pinched the bridge of his nose and added, “Maybe if I knew when I was outmatched they’d still be alive. I think it’s time I call in some help.”