Vincent’s hands were still shaking, his heart still pounding, but his blood had gone from stone cold to scorching hot. Sweat crept down his face in heavy droplets as he prepared himself for the fight of his life. “One more thing Lord,” he said aloud. His voice a guttural rasp. “Please don’t let me cramp up.”
The snarling, digging, and sounds of falling rock steadily increased. It wouldn’t be long before they were upon him. Cracks were starting to appear in the barricade and Vincent wanted desperately to unload his weapon, but he fought this instinct with all his might. He knew he needed a much better shot if he were to have any hopes of killing his target. He waited. Excruciatingly anticipating every second, as he sat unblinking, watching the hungry predators methodically tear down his only line of defense. He could see the silhouette of one of the beasts as it clawed at him in a frenzy. The barrier standing in the way of the creature's meal, seemed only to make it angrier and more determined to sink its teeth into his flesh.
Vincent could sense its hunger, which he found deeply unnerving. His fingers were itching to pull the trigger and he gritted his teeth with the effort of holding back. “Wait for it.” He said in his mind. “Wait for it…” It pushed its snout through the barricade and its snarling, hungry, growls sent a stab of fear through his body. He almost pulled the trigger, but with an incredible amount of willpower, Ezra held himself back a moment longer. The creature was no longer just a sound blocked by a barrier. It was a present and visceral nightmare.
It burst through the blockade, baring its razor-sharp fangs, dripping with saliva. And glowered at him with its murderous yellow eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fired. The shot rang out in the small space, thundering in his ears. The smoke of the discharge, choking him. The wolf yelped as the shot connected, but to Vincent’s chagrin, the wolf survived. The bullet tore into its shoulder inflicting a fair bit of damage, but the wound was not fatal. The pain seemed to spur it on. And though Vincent wouldn’t have thought it possible, the creature had become even more ravenous than before. Now hungry not only for his flesh, but for revenge.
Vincent was beginning to hyperventilate, sweat stinging his eyes. He shakily wiped the sweat from his face, blinking rapidly. Desperately trying to clear his vision so he could line up another shot. His sight was hampered, and he knew the wolf was a hairs width away from tearing into him. Instinctively, he knew it was risky to waste a shot, but it was just as risky to continue waiting. Vincent aimed down his sights as best he could -- and fired. Another yelp. He’d struck the wolf again, but it was undeterred. It was still furiously clawing at him. Steadily breaking down the rocks and widening the gap between it -- and its prey.
“Die!” he yelled in frustration. “Just die!” The wolf did not comply. It continued gnashing and tearing. Hungrier than ever. Vincent managed to clear his vision enough that he could line up his sights again. This time far better than before. It was close now. The wolf had its head inside the tomb and was working to bring its front paws inside with it. Then it would be able to squeeze its way through. Once it did, it would be upon him within a matter of seconds. Vincent struggled to steady his breathing and aimed for its head.
He fired. The shot went high, striking the wolf and tearing free one of its ears. It flew into a frenzy. It’s visage more horrifying than ever, blood oozing from the side of its head, spattered across its face, and the mangled remnants of its shredded ear flapping as it moved. Vincent could tell the wolf was seeing red now. It was out for blood. If he didn’t kill it soon, it would tear him limb from limb. Vincent’s ears were ringing from the shots, his throat and lungs affected by the smoke, his eyes stinging, and vision blurry from the sweat. He was an inch from death and one more failure would cost him his life.
The world around him grew distant and muffled, as if he were under water. He could hear the pounding of his heart and his own ragged breath. The world seemed to slow to a crawl. He pointed the pistol at the bloody, snarling, animal’s head. Aiming the shot lower this time. He squeezed the trigger and finally, the shot connected with its target. Blood spattered forcefully across Vincent’s face, which unexpectedly brought a crazed smile to his lips. The expression of grim satisfaction persisted as blood ran freely from the creature’s perforated skull and the last signs of life ebbed from its mutilated body.
Vincent didn’t have time to celebrate. The second wolf was right behind him, clawing frantically to reach its prey. It wouldn’t take long. Much of the work had already been done. Once the other wolves moved the body, there would be little standing in the way of their prey. Vincent was shaking violently now, and he struggled desperately to get his body under control. If he couldn’t steady himself soon, he had zero chance of killing both of them. With only two bullets left, Vincent needed a perfect shot for each one.
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He knew it was impossible, but he had no choice. He had to at least make the attempt. The remaining two wolves began to bite into the corpse of the first. Dragging its remains from the hole it had created. Vincent dared to hope they would be satisfied with their fallen brethren as a source of meat, but no such luck. They pulled it aside and began their work again where they had left off. Vincent had a pretty good beat on the second wolf’s head, but he’d seen firsthand how this strategy had played out previously. The only way to make sure he killed it with a single shot now, was to wait until it was impossible to miss. With a sense of courage that he never knew he possessed, Vincent held back the burning desire to discharge his revolver and allowed the wolf to continue to break through while he focused on his breathing.
It was only a matter of seconds before it was able to burst through the barrier and begin to climb inside. He held his breath and fired. It was a hit. Striking the wolf directly in the throat. The creature was bleeding, but it would take a while to die from loss of blood. The wounded animal continued its pursuit. Vincent prayed he could hold off the ravenous beast long enough for it to bleed out. “I have to save my last bullet!” He thought desperately.
To his dismay, the second wolf broke through. Vincent was shocked at its speed. It was upon him in an instant. He managed to raise his gun up to fire, but it clamped down on his hand with incredible force. His instinct was to recoil, in an effort to spare his hand, but he resisted. Instead, he focused all of his willpower on pulling the trigger. “Eat this you son of a bi—” He fired. The bullet ripped right through its head. Spattering blood everywhere. The second wolf was dead. The third one close behind. He was out of bullets…
###
He heard the final wolf working its way inside and he knew he wouldn’t have enough time to reload before it got to him. He wracked his brain for the smallest inkling of an idea. Anything that might buy him some time. He had mere seconds to react. Which meant he simply didn’t have the luxury of coming up with a brilliant plan. So, he did the only thing he could. He fumbled around in the pouch next to him for ammunition.
The best he could hope for was maintaining the presence of mind enough to reload his weapon, while he was literally being eaten. This way, he could at least take the savage beast with him into the grave.
The dead weight of the second wolf made it much harder to breathe. He drew ragged, shallow, breaths as he struggled to place a bullet in the chamber. The crushing weight on top of him, lack of oxygen, and awkward positioning, made it difficult to see what he was doing or even properly reach the chamber. And to top it all off, his hands were weak and trembling. His chances of reloading were close to zero. He attempted to push one into the chamber, but he missed, pressing it against the outside. The bullet folded to one side, slipped from his fingers, and plummeted into the dirt.
He tried again with the same result and was stunned when he realized that he’d had enough time to fail twice. He could hear the last wolf approaching, but it must have been affected by the death of its companions because it seemed to be closing in much more cautiously. Vincent felt a wave of relief. He resolved to take a breather and use the time he needed to get this one right. He Inhaled, pulling in as much air as he could manage. Then exhaled slowly. Steadily aiming for an empty slot to load the bullet. He still couldn’t see it, but he took his time feeling it out. Making sure to use the sliver of opportunity he’d been given as wisely as possible.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Just as he found the slot and moved to push the bullet in, the third wolf attacked. It came for his throat, but at the last second, he abandoned reloading and used the butt of his pistol to whip the mangy beast right in the eye. It yelped and pulled back for a fleeting moment. This was enough time for Vincent to get his hands on the body of the second wolf, which he used as a makeshift shield. The third wolf struck fast and hard, like a viper. Sinking its teeth deep into the flesh of the second wolf’s body. It thrashed its head back and forth with incredible strength. Rending the dead wolf’s flesh. It tried to whip the dead body out of the way to get to Vincent, but he managed to move with the attacks.
He was successfully holding off his attacker for now, but he was rapidly losing strength. The strain was too much for his weakened body and soon he would reach the point of exhaustion. Then he’d be completely exposed. He had to use both of his hands to keep the deadly predator at bay, which meant he had no chance to reload. It was only a matter of time now. He would hold out as long as he could and then he would die. The bloodthirsty wolf, tearing into his throat.
He wished he had a knife or even a piece of glass to shove into the wolf’s head before he died. Then he remembered that he did have a knife. He tried to reach it, but it was in his satchel. There was no way he could get to it while holding off the attacks. “I should have had it out and ready as a backup!” He shouted in his head. “Vincent you stupid…”
The wolf attacked again, and this time it was able to get enough of a grip on the body to pull it away. Now it had access to his vulnerable throat and Vincent had no means of defending himself. It lunged with lighting speed, and the attack would have been lethal, but he managed to get his left arm up just in time to protect his throat. He screamed in agony as the wolf bit into his flesh. His thick clothing absorbed some of the blow, but as the wolf began to thrash, the clothing tore, along with his own skin.