Ba Gấu, burdened by his past, haunted by whispers of doubt. His fall from grace would be a cataclysm, his redemption painted in crimson upon the camp's floor. And Linh herself, a pup barely out of milk, her own mistakes still clinging to her like burrs. If she fumbled this, her journey wouldn't end in ignominy, it would be snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.
A pang of guilt pricked at her conscience. Lady Lan Anh, the enigmatic beauty, the enigmatic noble, would these brutes take revenge on her body if Linh made a mistake? The Crimson Fang's bloodlust was a threat to all the villages in Lan Anh’s landhold, and Ba Gấu, despite his flaws, was their best chance. Even if it would be the bloodiest solution. His failure meant hers, meant Lives ruined.
Linh clenched her paws, the twig snapping under the pressure. Excuses and doubts were luxuries she couldn't afford. Ba Gấu had laid the trap, she just needed to bait it. With a deep breath, she crept along the camp's southern wall, shadows her cloak, silence her song.
She picked a spot near the corner, just under the snoring form of a bandit sleeping like a drunken bear. A loose plank hung precariously, tempting any foot seeking purchase. With a flick of her paw, she sent it clattering to the ground, the noise echoing like a gunshot in the stillness.
Silence stretched, taut and mocking. She waited, breath held, ears straining. Nothing. No growl, no oath, no lumbering footsteps. Despair threatened to engulf her. Had she miscalculated? Were the bandits deaf, or simply ignoring her meager attempt at chaos?
Frustration boiled over. She snatched a bundle of dry brush from near the latrine, a pungent offering to the fire god. Sparks flew as she struck flint against stone, and a tiny flame danced into existence. With trembling paws, she nursed it into a blaze, the crackling flames painting her face with flickering orange.
Now. They had to notice now.
And they did. Two figures emerged from a tent, faces contorted in annoyance. Fang and Blade, two pups known more for their bumbling than their bravado. They ambled towards the fire, grumbling curses about false alarms and sleepy bellies.
Linh held her breath, eyes fixed on the crude tripwires she'd strung across their path. The first pup, Fang, tripped headlong, the rope lashing tight around his leg. He sprawled face-first in the dirt, a yelp erupting from his throat. Blade, startled, stumbled into the second trap, a whip of thorns wrapping around his ankle with a sickening snap.
A strangled cry, the clatter of steel, and then… silence. Linh's heart hammered against her ribs, a chaotic drumbeat drowning out the crackle of the fire. Tentatively, she approached the writhing forms. Fang lay unmoving, a gash across his throat, his lifeless eyes staring sightlessly at the night sky. Blade, still entangled, whimpered in pain, his eyes wide with terror.
She had never taken a life before. Each breath he rasped felt like a blow to her own chest. A strange sensation tingled in her k9 teeth, a prickling warmth like static electricity. But before she could dwell on it, a guttural roar ripped through the camp, followed by the clang of steel and the screams of dying men. Ba Gấu's symphony of chaos had begun, her prelude a bloody overture.
Linh watched, transfixed, a morbid mixture of horror and exhilaration twisting within her. The pup, the reckless fool who'd stumbled into the darkness, was gone. In her place stood a wolf, bloodied but unbowed, her senses sharpened, her spirit ablaze.
She didn't know it yet, but the echo of that first kill, the sting of that first victory, had marked her passage. No longer a pup, she was stepping into the realm of predator, her fangs tasting the power, her fur bristling with the thrill of the hunt. The path ahead was paved with thorns and shadows, but she was ready to tread it, a wolf awakened by the flames of her own making.
act 2
Chapter 7: Act II - Night of the Hunter
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
A symphony of chaos erupted behind him, screams and clashing steel painting the air crimson. Ba Gấu slipped through the gaping hole in the latrine wall, the stench of rotting waste an unpleasant welcome mat. In the dim moonlight, he saw a hulking bandit perched on the throne, oblivious to the predator stalking him. A flicker of a rusted blade, a choked gurgle, and silence reclaimed the fetid chamber.
The adjoining bath area provided another grisly tableau. A bandit, submerged in lukewarm water, hummed a tuneless ditty. Ba Gấu plunged an unseen paw into the tub, dragging the gurgling fool under the murky surface. Bubbles and thrashing limbs gave way to stillness, the only sound the dripping of water on stone.
He exited the latrine, a phantom flitting through the shadows. The north gate was his target, the weakest link in the Crimson Fang's chain. He scaled the western guard tower with practiced ease, dispatching the surprised bandit with a swift twist of the neck. Leaving the other guard alive for now, he waited, a silent observer on the stage of carnage.
The distant alarm bell clanged, its discordant peal ripping through the night. From his vantage point, Ba Gấu saw the panicked flurry of activity within the camp, bandits swarming toward the south wall, drawn by Linh's diversion. A grim smile played on his lips. The bait was working.
He descended in a blur of movement, landing behind the guard on the eastern tower. With a flash of steel and a muffled grunt, the dog crumpled to the ground, another ghost added to the growing legion. Now, the dance truly began.
The first to arrive was the bandit from the grinding wheel, Gruff, his burly frame lumbering towards the gate. Ba Gấu leaped down, landing in front of him with a guttural growl. Gruff froze, eyes wide with fear as he recognized the Alpha reborn.
"Well met, Gruff," Ba Gấu rasped, his voice honed to an edge. "Ready for a little dance?"
Gruff's hand twitched towards his axe, but hesitation clung to him like cobwebs. The legend of the fallen Alpha, the whispers of his rage, held him back.
"Let's not waste time," Ba Gấu growled, lunging. His claws raked across Gruff's chest, tearing through hide and flesh. The bandit roared in pain, swinging his axe wildly.
The clash was brutal, a hurricane of steel and snarls. Ba Gấu, weakened but fueled by fury, parried and riposted. Gruff, his fear turning to desperation, fought with the strength of a cornered beast.
The dance unfolded in the shadow of the tower, a brutal ballet illuminated by flickering torches. Gruff landed a blow, splitting Ba Gấu's shoulder, but the Alpha didn't flinch. He countered with a kick to the leg, bringing Gruff down to his knees.
Ba Gấu pinned him with a guttural snarl, his eyes blazing with a cold, predatory light. "Remember me, Gruff?" he hissed. "Remember who you serve? Remember who holds your leash?"
Gruff looked into the Alpha's eyes, and saw not the glory of a leader, but the fury of a tormented soul. It was a look that spoke of scars and regrets, of promises broken and a kingdom lost.
A whimper escaped Gruff's lips. He lowered his weapon, defeat heavy in his eyes. He didn't need words. He understood.
Ba Gấu stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his own past pressing down on him. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the burden of ages, he stepped back.
"Go," he rasped, his voice rough with weariness. "Tell them… tell them the Alpha walks among them once more."
Gruff scrambled to his feet, fleeing like a whipped dog into the chaos. Ba Gấu watched him go, a bitter taste in his mouth. This wasn't victory, not yet. This was just the first verse in a bloody song, and he had only begun to sing.
The night was young, and the hunter was on the prowl. The Crimson Fang's den would soon run red with their own blood, painted by the claws of the Alpha reborn. And in the dance of shadows, Ba Gấu would find his redemption, one fallen fang at a time.
Now was time to use his traps. He had spent too long snoring on the sofa, This small amount of action was tiring him and he had still 14 more bandits to deal with. time to execute stage 2 of the hunt, Ba Gấu starts his sprint back out of the camp while Gruff musters the rest to give chase.
The ravine gaped open like a jagged maw, beckoning Ba Gấu with the promise of fleeting sanctuary. His lungs hammered against his ribs, each breath a searing rasp. Behind him, the bandits' bellowing fury was a thundercloud gaining ground, fueled by bloodlust and the sting of Ba Gấu's cunning.
He hurled himself through the narrow entrance, the ravine walls swallowing him whole. He didn't dare look back, not yet. The first tremor ran through the earth - a trap sprung. From the far side, a monstrous roar erupted, a bandit yanked skyward by a hidden net, flung against the ravine wall like a ragdoll before plummeting into the abyss, his shrieks lost in the howling wind.