Wolfgang:
They crawled to the next row of headstones where a smattering of rose bushes provided some measly cover. Nyssa pointed silently to a slight rise with shadows that seemed slightly deeper than the rest of the graveyard. It would be a perfect place to find cover but Nyssa didn’t seem to be guessing, she knew someone hid there.
Wolfgang’s instincts were to trust this slim, slip of a girl. Her round green eyes were so earnest and her sarcastic words so matter of fact, it was hard not to trust her. He gestured for her to stay put and moved to circumnavigate the hill.
His jaw clicked, shifting under his skin to accommodate his lengthening teeth. He crept along a shallow gully, allowing his body to shift and change beneath his skin. His shoulders hunched and bulked up, stretching his clothing and wiry hair sprouted on the back of his neck. A bush rustled though there was no wind. Someone was there.
He could smell him.
He reeked of cigarettes and old sweat and rage. Wolfgang shifted through the shadows, savoring the delicious thrill of the hunt. His prey crouched behind a weeping angel, watching the tree he and Nyssa had been hiding behind. He held a long knife, the twin to the one embedded in stone a few metres away.
Wolfgang attacked, going for the hand that held the knife. His soft flesh yielded under sharp teeth and the sound of bone crunching echoed across the silent graveyard. The man screamed in pain and fear, jerking away from the unexpected attack. The knife slipped from his useless fingers and clattered against the stone of the grave.
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The beast that used to be Wolfgang lunged again this time aiming for his prey’s throat. The terrified man tried to ward off the attack with his ruined hand, falling back, screaming shrilly, slipping in blood.
Once again, Wolfgang ripped through flesh, tearing at whatever he could reach. He shredded through his prey’s extended hand, crushing through meat, bone and sinew indiscriminately.
Wolfgang pulled back allowing his prey to escape, sans a few fingers. He leaned back on haunches, gnawing on his prize and watching as the man half crawled, half stumbled away clutching his mutilated hand and sobbing. He made his way back down to Nyssa, finger bones crunching between his too-long teeth. He was still sucking the marrow from them when Nyssa crawled out from underneath the roses.
“One down,” he said, wiping halfheartedly at the blood staining his chin and neck with his sleeve.
“Four to go,” she said, shivering in her mud soaked clothes.
Wolfgang frowned. “There is only three left.” Nyssa shook her head a little, making her beanie slip a little to one side. She smiled.
“That’s what I meant,” she said.
She started walking towards Wolfgang’s grave leaving him to trail behind her.
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