He got back in his car and closed the door. It was weird that a dead werewolf was right outside but what could he do. It was also weird that he had a seemingly magic journal giving him missions to complete, but reality was reality, he would just go with it for now.

He picked up the Journal. It seemed to have a faint energy to it, like it wanted him to read it. It also felt like it was willing him to turn to a certain page. Travis could not have said if he turned the page or if the journal did, regardless he ended up on Missions.

*New Mission* - Secondary Mission - It looks like monsters are a thing now. Find out what you can about the werewolves. There is a burrow in the woods, try to cull their number while finding out any information you can Prize: Weapon upgrade scroll

He had also gone up to level two, presumably from killing that wolf. He should get some kind of boost in stats he thought, if this is in fact an RPG type game. He did not play but had seen others do it and of course gaming was a part of pop culture now, so he was aware of some basic RPG rules and themes. Travis closed the book, thinking he would figure it out later.

One of the problems for the Dungeon Master (DM) in picking Travis was that he had no desire to geek out over his stats or even play the game much. That was the type of thing that many people would love to dig into, figuring out every possibility while trying to understand what everything meant.

The main character might not have been as into power gaming as the DM would like, but he was about to meet someone who was. He would add the geek to the party that Travis needed if he was really going to maximize his opportunities in this game.

Travis checked the time. It was 7:00 pm, and the sun was starting to go down. He still had a good hour or two of sunlight, so he decided to head into the woods. Gathering a few guys, they pulled the wolf off the road. One of them volunteered to go to the police station and inform them about the situation. No one volunteered to accompany him into the woods though, and he didn't really blame them.

His SUV was parked on the shoulder, but he brought his bag and journal. He also tried to see if his lockbox would disappear into the magic bag without adding weight, and it did. So he brought it and headed off.

After everything that had happened, the bag still amazed Travis the most. You could probably make a scientific argument for everything that had happened so far, maybe not a sound argument, but even with his limited science background, he knew he could do it. Well maybe not the moving countdown on a piece of paper, but a bag that did not fill up as items were placed inside? That was some real sci-fi, fantasy magic-type shit. It was incredibly useful, though, and he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, not when he was preparing to fight werewolves.

At least he knew bullets killed them, if you got headshots. Would they slowdown from bullets in the chest? He hoped he didn't need to find out, as his plan was to double-tap every wolf he came across in the head.

He had received basic directions from the father before leaving them alone. After walking for only about 10 minutes, he started to hear strange sounds ahead of him – guttural sounds that couldn't be from native wildlife. Travis wished he had binoculars. He made sure to live like a civilian these days, so he didn't have all the bells and whistles that were common to most soldiers. Travis, a former soldier did not have all the accoutrements of war in civilian life, he found it ironic that so many weekend warriors who were not soldiers and never would be, did.

As he got closer to the sounds he went into stealth mode. Spotting a dip up ahead about 70 yards away he circled around to the right to get a higher vantage point and scope it out.

Thier was someone who had gotten the same idea apparently. Lying down on the peak of a mound, with trees obscuring him from the front, was a tall, lanky man. It looked like he was observing something.

Travis veered off more to the right so he could approach behind the guy. There didn't appear to be a threat, but you can never be too cautious – well, you could, but not in this situation. As he crept up, the man was oblivious to his approach. Travis didn't want to startle him, causing him to yell out, so he started to whisper softly before he touched his leg. This was a potentially dangerous situation.

To the man's credit, he did jump a bit, but without making a sound. Travis instantly made eye contact to reassure the man and said, “I'm here to help; my name's Travis.” Corny maybe but things were fluid and could spiral out of control fast.

He gave Travis an assessing look, then reached out his hand. “Clyde, nice to meet you.” the man said. Travis exhaled slightly.

“Likewise,” Travis said. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“My intention was to do my job, but to my surprise, I came upon a pack of humanoid wolves.” the man was nervous be he hid it well.

“And what, you decided to just hang around and sightsee?” Travis quipped. He didn't mean to be sarcastic, but this situation bordered on the surreal. He could tell the man, Clyde, was not an outdoors type, even though he said he was out here doing his job.

“What kind of job brings you out to a place like this?” Travis asked, cutting off the reply to the more sarcastic question.

“I'm a professor at the University; we were studying a herd of deer in the context of how they react when their habitat is destroyed for more and more human developments,” Clyde replied, very matter-of-factly. He looked like he would be fine continuing on the topic even with the wolf burrow not too far away.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

In normal times, Travis might have inquired more too, but these were not normal times.

He did ask, “Have you learned anything from the wolves?”

“A little bit, but you have me at a disadvantage. What brings you out here?” Clyde inquired.

“A wolf chased a family out of these woods and onto the interstate. One minute I was sitting in traffic, the next I was staring at a werewolf; it's been quite the day,” Travis answered.

“Indeed,” said Clyde.

Travis almost said that he had a mission to come find out what's going on, but he realized that would only lead to more uncomfortable questions. What he did say was, “I wanted to find out how dangerous this situation was and potentially put a stop to it if I could.”

“That is very brave of you. How did you happen to kill the wolf on the interstate?” Clyde inquired. He wasn't fully questioning Travis story, but there was some skepticism in his voice.

Travis wanted to nip this in the bud right now. “Look, man, I know me creeping up here like this is weird, but let's be honest, everything is pretty damn weird right now.”

“Me coming up here to investigate and finding you just hanging out not half a football field from a burrow of werewolves is pretty fucking strange itself, wouldn't you say?” Travis asked, his tone edged with frustration.

Clyde considered for a few seconds then, as if swapping out faces, dropped that smug look. He seemed quite affable now. He said, “Yes, things are quite fucking strange, as you say.” He emphasized the word 'fucking' as if to say he didn't normally curse but supported Travis' attempt to add gravity to his words.

“Imagine my surprise, taking a walk in the woods as the world went up in flames all around us. Only to hear the worst howl I’d ever heard. I do not know why, but I got down as soon as I heard it. They walked by me not 25 feet away after I did. I am lucky they didn't smell me that close. Good thing I showered today”. The attempt at humor didn't land.

“And you've been in this spot ever since?” Travis asked.

“No, I got down about 15 yards that way,” he pointed to the south. “I crawled closer so I could see the burrow. Too curious for my own good I guess.”

“I'd certainly say so,” Travis replied, getting an idea. He pulled out his journal and turned to the 'local map' page to see if the burrow would show up, it did. He wanted to see if it showed how many wolves there were. He couldn't remember where he had seen the concept.

Unfortunately, it looked like the map only marked things he had already seen. It did give him an idea of how far away from the interstate he was on one side and the University grounds on the other. He also knew how large the burrow was, he wondered if the journal could be used fast enough to have a use during battle. Knowing where the enemy was, even known enemy could be a huge advantage. Depending how fast that enemy was moving though, and he would have to fight with an open book in one hand.

"What's that?", Clyde asked. Travis just waived it off.

Then he asked him, “Anything about their behavior stand out to you?”

After thinking for a moment, Clyde said, “Yes, actually. They seem to be out of sorts.”

“Their actions are very random, as if they do not know what they are supposed to do. I have tracked and watched many animal packs, and while these are obviously unique, they should still have similar pack behavior.”

“They smell everything, mark territory every 10 steps, and do not seem to feel comfortable in their own burrow. Frankly, I do not think they made it. I was through here three days ago, and it wasn't there; obviously neither were the werewolves.”

That was interesting. This all did start randomly. Were they transported here from some other world? He would consider that when he had more time.

Travis was about to discuss a plan he had been thinking up when he heard the slightest sound over a small hill behind them, it was the type of sound that only a fairly large and moving animal could make. He reached down and unholstered his gun, safety off.

He did not hear anything else, but instinct and experience hunting told him one of two things would happen. Either the wolf would attack instantly, realizing it had screwed up, or it would wait to reestablish its stealth so it could ambush them. He had looked into the eye of the beast and saw that these were thinking animals. This was not a video game where you could count on the monsters to be dumb as rocks.

“Clyde,” he lowered his voice even more then the whisper in which they had been speaking. He pointed in the direction of the hill where he heard the sound and held up one finger, signifying the amount of enemy he thought was there. Then he gave him more signals, and Clyde seemed to have understood. He knew they were fast and now gambled that the wolf was going to wait. How long, he couldn't say. It could be another hour. It got dark soon, so Travis did not want to find out. He came up with another plan. He hoped Clyde would go with it.

“Clyde, I have a plan, but you may not like it.” Clyde looked at him, empathy on his face.

“I need you to be bait.” He was about to explain how headshots would kill the wolf, so he need not worry, and he would not be in danger, but Clyde just shook his head. Travis was disappointed but not surprised.

But he misunderstood. He wasn't shaking his head, saying no to the plan; he was saying Travis didn't need to explain further. You see, Clyde was quite impressive himself, almost in none of the ways that Travis was, though. One of the only traits they shared was an ability to read people. Clyde could tell within minutes of meeting Travis that he was the type of quiet professional that got things done and done well. In order to get out of this situation he judged he would have to trust this man that just wandered up, so trust him he would.

If they met in a normal place and a normal time, he would have never been able to read him as fast as he did. But in a situation like this, people told on themselves with everything they said and everything they did. Clyde knew there was a chance he could die here. If Travis never came he almost certainly would have died. Now thought with support if he stayed in this spot, ran, or played bait, he could still die. He found the latter option the best by far, because of Travis. This man lying next to him in the woods, 50 feet from a werewolf burrow, inspired confidence.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered.

---

The wolf knew it screwed up by stepping on that small branch, but the thrill of the hunt, and better yet, the kill, was intoxicating. Besides, these stupid, slow, smelly humans almost definitely did not hear Safaria’s mistake. If they did, it wouldn't matter. She did not fear them in any way whatsoever. They didn't even have weapons. No swords or bows, not that they would have made a big difference.

Safaria tried not to think about the fact that she had no idea how she got here or where she was before. It was like she woke up in a burrow with other wolves that smelled like kin, but she did not recognize them as such. Once the human crept into her hunting area, all those thoughts went away, but the longer she stalked him, the more they came back. It wasn't until the second man thing came into her area that those thoughts went away completely. They would return though.

She knew it was almost time to strike. She had memories of the hunt being near orgasmic. She did not seem to be fully experiencing that now though. There was a rush from stalking those that did not know she was there, but hunger ate at her. She was not some runty wolf, though; hunger could wait. Still, she had stalked them long enough. It was time to catch her prey.

That was when she heard the skinny man get up fast, fall down, then get up again and run. Not towards her, in the opposite direction. She waited a second to see what the other man thing would do; he seemed to stay put. The chase had begun, not on her terms but it would still end with the same result.