Cici and Drew stood back to back amidst both towering pines and wet ground, blood dribbling down their faces. The swirling mists clung to the gnarled roots and mossy boulders like plastic wrap to a rotisserie chicken—a film that blanketed the night landscape and added to its weighty atmosphere. Nearby, Tanya lie barely moving on the ground, beaten to a pulp. She’d fought long and hard against their pursuers, doing everything in her power to protect her people…but even the prestigious Rangers had their limits.
Circling them like hungry wolves, a small group of knights, their spears at the ready, pointed like jagged teeth. Cici’s antennae twitched nervously as she scanned her predicament, compound eye jumping between the glinting armors of the various men who closed in on them.
The moonlight taunted Drew, the man stuck in a limbo between man and beast, his inhibitor still ever-diligent in its quest to mask his abilities. It was much unlike the situation of his superior, Elder Davis, who had now undergone a grisly transformation of his own—quite a professional one too. He hadn’t even flinched during his fight with the witchdoctor, as he was being engulfed in fur. Davis was no longer—the Butcher had taken his place.
Talia and Butcher had been locked in a fierce battle since they first laid eyes on each other. Talia moved with a natural grace, her robes billowing around her like dark wings. Her sickle chain whipped through the air, crackling, raindrops springing off its tightened steel. Butcher countered each strike with his massive fists, striking the blades on their broad sides, redirecting their flow.
Butcher lunged forward with startling speed, ripping up the ground with his giant claws. His massive furry form was a blur as he closed the distance to Talia. She barely managed to dodge his claws, the razor-sharp talons slicing through her robes. Talia retaliated by whipping her chain around Butcher’s' arm, the sickle blade biting deep into his flesh. The Werewolf roared in pain, though the opportunity presented itself—he pulled the chain to yank Talia off balance, pulling her towards him.
As the two continued their deadly dance, Cici and Drew stayed stuck, surrounded by the knights. Drew’s eyes darted between their attackers, looking for any sort of opening, any sort of chance to spring a counter of his own.
“Any bright ideas?” Cici whispered.
“Working on it,” Drew muttered back. He flexed his fingers, feeling the inhibitor’s effects warring with the pull of the full moon. If only he could push past it…
No matter—a bone-chilling howl suddenly pierced the night air. Everyone froze, their heads swiveling toward the sound. Even Talia and Davis paused their battle, the two in a deadlock, quite literally at each other’s throats.
A massive shape suddenly burst through the tree line, the earth seeming to quake under its every step. As the creature emerged fully into the clearing, Cici gasped in recognition—though transformed, there was no mistaking that goofy haircut. It was Andy, but…well…not.
The massive beast bounded into the clearing, eyes wild and teeth bared. The knights scattered in panic, their formation breaking and going on the defensive. Andy paid them no mind—his gaze was locked solely on Butcher. With a guttural roar, Andy charged straight for the Elder, teeth bared.
Butcher barely had time to shove Talia aside before Andy slammed into him with the force of a freight train—the two massive beasts went tumbling across the forest floor in a tangle of fur, claws and gnashing teeth.
Cici cried out for Andy to stop, but her pleas fell on deaf, pinned-back ears. Though she attempted to reach out, Drew very quickly restrained her.
“No, goddamn it, he can’t hear you right now!”
The knights had regrouped, forming a loose circle around the warring beasts, spears wavering with uncertainty, the men deciding whether or not they should intervene. Talia pushed herself to her feet, clutching her side. Her eyes darted between Andy and Butcher, then to Drew and Cici as the two were slowly backing away.
“Stop them!” Talia barked. “Don’t let either of them escape!”
A few of the knights broke off from the dog fight, scrambling towards the two as they began to flee.
“C’mon, let’s go!” Drew grabbed Cici by the wrist and started bounding into the dark, back toward the safety of civilization. The two raced through the dark, tree branches occasionally whipping by and scratching their faces. The heavy footfalls of armored men strayed not too far behind, spurring the group to pick up the pace.
Drew’s heart pounded, his body straining against the inhibitor’s effects. He tugged frantically at the device clamped around his wrist, his claws scrabbling to get any sort of grip against the smooth metal surface.
“Come on, you piece of junk!” Drew growled through gritted teeth. He drug his nails into the seams, trying to pry it open, but the inhibitor remained stubbornly intact. It had been built to withstand a far greater force than Drew could muster in his dampened state.
Cici glanced back, eye growing wider by the second. “Are—are we just gonna leave them behind?!”
“No, just…give me a minute to think, alright? There’s no way we’re—”
Drew’s words were cut short as a sickle blade whizzed past his head, embedding itself in a nearby trunk. The chain went taut, yanking Talia through the air towards them. She landed gracefully in their path, her veil fluttering as she straightened up.
“Going somewhere?” The woman asked coldly, yanking her sickle free. Drew and Cici slid to a halt across the wet grass, as the knights closed in around them once more. The sounds of snarling echoed behind them.
“Look lady,” Drew said as he raised his hands. “We don’t want any smoke. You just let us go and we’ll be right on our way.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You interfere with our mission, your kind remains a blight, and what’s worse? You’ve allowed an innocent child to be taken by your curse. By the time we are through tonight, your city, your monument to corruption, will be burning with the fires of hell.”
“Lady,” Drew growled. “You have no idea what kind of hell you’re about to unleash.”
“Drew…” Cici warily whispered—but the man was hearing none of it. Drew lunged right at Talia, inhibitor be damned. He might not have his full strength, but that didn’t mean going down without a fight, even moreso when Cici was in danger.
Talia’s chain whipped through the air, but Drew ducked it the last second, feeling a whoosh of air as it passed overhead. Closing the distance in just a few strides, Drew’s fist cocked back like the hammer of a gun, ready to strike with explosive force.
KRAK!
Talia was struck hard, veil flying up for the briefest glimpse at her mottled face. She pivoted gracefully despite the damage, catching Drew’s next punch on her forearm and deflecting it to the side. With her free hand she lashed out with a strong chop at Drew’s throat. He barely managed to lean back in time, the edge of her hand grazing his stubbled chin. The two traded blows in their dance of death, Drew relying purely on instinct to keep up with Talia’s fluid movement.
In the meantime, the knights closed in on Cici. Her mind raced with her possibilities of escape, namely being the pine that she had been ever-so-slightly inching toward. As soon as the knights lunged, her cilia covered hands found purchase of the rough bark. In seconds, she was scurrying up the trunk like a squirrel, leaving the bewildered knights far below. Their pursuit, locked behind the confines of heavy armor, was impossible at this point—all they had to rely on now was their aim, as the men readied their crossbows.
Cici didn’t stop until she reached the uppermost branches, hiding herself among the thick of the foliage. The scratching of pine needles did little to harm her tough exoskeleton, though it did slightly tickle. From her perch above, she had a bird’s eye view of the chaos below, Drew still locked in combat with Talia, while Andy and Butcher continued their savagery nearby.
A movement in the distant shadows caught Cici’s eye. Squinting, she made out two approaching figures from the direction of the city—Martin and Snoozie. The Onierovore was flying fast as the old man shuffled behind.
“Andy!” Martin shouted, reaching for his firearm when Snoozie stopped his hand. The old man resisted, pulling his arm away, nearly hissing at the ethereal creature. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Stopping you from making a mistake,” Snoozie bit back, shaking her head. “You’re gonna hurt someone if you try an’ shoot now.”
“That’s the idea.” Martin said as he took aim with his freed arm.
“Are you willing to shoot your own boy?” Snoozie asked. The old man grit his teeth, his nostrils flaring with frustration. Following his brief moment of consideration, Martin holstered the weapon.
A bit of a ways away, Andy’s ears twitched at the sound of his father’s voice—he paused for just long enough to take a savage strike to his cheek, Butcher’s claws carving a nice new scar onto the boy’s fuzzy mug. Roaring in response, Andy gripped Butcher by both broad shoulders and rammed his forehead into the beast man’s snout. Davis reared up, howling in pain, grabbing at his bloody nose.
Andy’s eyes darted wildly between Butcher and the approaching figures. For a moment he seemed torn, unsure of which threat to focus on, although with a snarl, Andy suddenly bounded away from the white wolf and charged straight for Martin.
“Andy, no!” Snoozie cried. She quickly flew in front of Martin, her shadowy form expanding to create a barrier between him and his rampaging son. Andy slammed into the shadowy wall, the mist already breaking up as the boy hammered away at it piece by piece. Before he could make much progress, he was grabbed from behind in a headlock by Butcher, who did his best to wrestle the boy to the ground. The white wolf didn’t understand why he was protecting this human—merely that it was in the tantrum-throwing pup’s best interest to do so.
Meanwhile, Drew and Talia were still locked in combat. Drew managed to land a solid punch to the woman’s gut, causing her to double over, but she quickly recovered, lashing out with her chain. It grazed Drew’s cheek this time, the silver metals scorching his skin, blood spraying out like a hot geyser.
Drew staggered back, clutching his bleeding cheek. The wound sizzled, Drew snarling through the pain, his eyes flashing with fury. Talia pressed the advantage, chain whipping toward the man, Drew barely able to dodge out of the way. The sickle sliced through his shirt, the man stumbling backwards, landing hard on the wet ground. Talia loomed above, chain raised for the killing blow.
Just then, a dark shape dropped from above, landing on Talia’s back—Cici clung to the woman, her four arms wrapping around Talia’s throat and face. The witchdoctor thrashed, trying to dislodge the Xita, but Cici continued her vice hold on the woman, obscuring her vision and cutting off her air. Talia wildly thrashed, chain whipping around herself all willy-nilly, threatening to chop the head off anyone who strayed within range. Anyone with a brain wouldn’t have even dared to challenge the fury of attacks…which is exactly why Drew seized the opportunity and rushed the witchdoctor as soon as he was up off the muddy ground.
His fist connected first with her solar plexus, knocking any remaining air out of her lungs. Talia doubled over, gasping, but Drew didn’t let up. He followed with a vicious uppercut that nearly took her head off. The veil fluttered even more.
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Pressing on, blow after blow rained down on the woman, Drew’s knuckles splitting with each strike. Blood and sweat flew through the air, the inhibitor was working overtime to contain this rush of adrenaline and feral strength. It was only when Talia stabbed her sickles in between the gaps of Cici’s exoskeleton that the Xita let go—only to be tossed like a ragdoll overhead at Drew.
Drew caught Cici as she was flung towards him, the two stumbling backwards. They were once again surrounded, the knights closing in with spears leveled. Talia stood before them, her veil now in tatters, revealing glimpses of her scarred face beneath. Her eyes burned with fury as she raised her chain.
"Enough," she snarled, turning to her underlings. "End this. Now!”
The knights brandished their weapons, raising them high overhead…overhead, the sky lit up with a golden light, a blazing comet hurdling across the night sky.
“Ignis magnus!” A young voice bellowed, echoing with eldritch might. Just as the comet came close enough, the sparks and the smoke parted ways, each trail contained in a separate fist. The face which came between them a pleasant surprise for the monsters…and an unwelcome return for the rest.
Vick, his arms outstretched and glowing with arcane might, hurled two great balls of fire toward the crowd, scattering them. The knights tripped and scrambled away from the scorching heat. With a flourish of his hands, Vick sent the flames surging outward in all directions.
The fire, so intense, initially ignored the dampness of the grass and the heavy rains pouring from the canopies—it leapt from tree to tree, racing across the small clearing, burning everything in its path. The knights caught in its wake panicked, their armor glowing red hot.
Talia dove to cover behind a large stone, narrowly avoiding the pillar of fire headed her way. The inferno raged on for several seconds before finally dying down, leaving a ring of smoldering embers around Drew and Cici. Vick landed gracefully between the two of them, a smug grin on his face. Smoke curled from his slightly glowing hands before he shook the both of them out.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone. Had some other biz to attend to.” Vick said. The Vampire’s dramatic entrance had bought the group some time, but the knights were already regrouping. Talia emerged from behind the rock, her veil now completely burned away. Her visage was…tragic, to say the least. Her flesh was warped and scarred beyond repair, her cheeks seemed both swollen and shallow. The woman’s ghoulish face writhed with an indescribable rage as she limped forward. Her brown eyes blazed as she raised her chain again.
“Insolent brat!” Talia roared.
Vick laughed. “Whatever you say, Freddy Krueger.”
Before the woman could respond, a thunderous roar shook the clearing. All eyes turned to see Andy and Butcher, still locked in their battle, both now barreling toward the scorched clearing.
Martin stood close by, running parallel to the group, Snoozie flying just behind. The two Werewolves crashed into the clearing. Andy snapped his teeth at Butcher’s throat, but the Elder managed to keep him at bay, holding his jaws open with both hands as they struggled to clamp down. With one big motion, Butcher slammed Andy to the ground, pinning him down with his foot. Andy thrashed and snarled, foam flying from his muzzle. He gnawed and clawed at Butcher’s legs, but to little avail as the others swooped in to help hold the boy down.
Drew and Cici rushed to the boy’s side, hoping to somehow reach their friend trapped within this monstrous form.
“Andy, it’s us!” Cici said. “You know us!”
“C’mon, kid, snap out of it!” said Drew.
Talia’s eyes flashed with malevolence as she saw her enemies distracted. With a flick of her wrist, her sickle went flying fast towards Butcher’s back—but Vick was faster. The young Vampire, uttering another incantation, thrust his glowing hands toward the weapon, blowing it out of the air with a blast of frost. The sickle blade was launched, lodged into an oak, rendered harmless for the time being.
Vick taunted, waggling his finger back and forth. Talia’s eyes narrowed, signaling to her knights. They fanned out, circling the group with their crossbows raised.
Ready…
Aim…
Fire!
As the knight’s fingers tightened on their triggers, Snoozie’s form ballooned around the struggling group in a dome of swirling darkness. The translucent barrier billowed and undulated like living smoke. Any bolts fired struck the barrier with a dull thud, embedding themselves in the ethereal substance before being slowly pushed out one at a time by black tendrils.
Vick scattered the remaining knights with another volley of flares. Talia watched helplessly as the bolts fell limply to the ground, her men running off—her head craned toward Martin. She extended a hand toward the old man.
“The heirloom,” Talia demanded, gesturing for Martin to hurry up. “Give it to me!”
Martin’s hand went to his coat pocket, feeling the weight of the heirloom within. His fingers glossed the rough gem in its center, the intricate engravings pressed themselves into his palm. The old man’s hound-dog eyes sagged sadly, conflicted. There was his son, a mass of fur underneath the shadowy barrier, no hope for a cure, no hope to be saved.
The old man stilled as Talia continued to yell, desperate pleas being drowned out by the white noise filling Martin’s ears.
“Now, Kessler!”
“I…" Martin’s lips trembled.
The witchdoctor stepped toward Martin, impatient—the old man stepped back in response, shaking his head.
“I…I can’t,” Martin said, voice barely above a whisper. The woman’s scarred face contorted with fury.
“What do you mean you can’t? This is what we came here for! To end this, once and for all!”
Martin took another step back. “Not like this. Not my boy.”
“Your boy is gone!” Talia hissed, gesturing at the snarling beast pinned beneath Butcher. “You can see it, can’t you? That…thing is no longer your son. Martin. Give me the heirloom and I can end his suffering, I can wipe this curse from the face of the earth. It will be quick, painless…merciful.”
The old man’s grip tightened on the heirloom.
“You’re wrong. My boy’s still in there. He might be…different now, but he’s still Andy.”
“Do not be foolish, Martin. Your love for him cannot be made to blind you—look at him. That beast will tear you apart without a second thought. It knows nothing of your love, your history. The Andy you know is gone.”
“No!” Martin stamped his foot in the mud, Talia jumping a slight bit. “No. Andy’s still there, I know it. The boy’s sick, but he ain’t no monster. Even if he was, hell…I’ve seen ‘em in action. I’ve seen ‘em come together, I’ve seen ‘em bein’ just as Human as the rest of us.”
“Martin, please. Don’t let them deceive you, too.”
“I’m done being deceived,” Martin growled, reaching for his revolver. “And I’m done with this Order.”
The man leveled the barrel squarely at Talia’s face. Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed dangerously. “You would turn against your own kind? Against humanity”
Martin scoffed. “I think humanity will be just fine without you.”
The old man’s finger tightened on the trigger.
BANG!
Just as the revolver fired, Talia threw her chain—the bullet flew straight into her scorched shoulder, blowing a chunk of flesh out the back. The witchdoctor wailed in agony, right around the time Martin’s leg got hooked by her sickle. With one mighty adrenaline-fueled pull, Talia dragged Martin towards herself—the man, having his leg pulled out from under him, fell right on his back, the wind being knocked from his lungs.
Andy continued to thrash beneath the barrier—the others struggled to keep him held down. Luckily, they wouldn’t have to keep it up for long. Once Butcher saw things go south on the outside, his restraint began to slack.
“I’m gonna let him go.” The white wolf said.
“You’re gonna what?!” Cici and Drew yelled in unison.
“Move.” Butcher removed his weight from Andy’s chest—the other two yelped and rolled out of the way of his arms. The beast quickly shot forward, back onto all fours, looking ahead.
There ahead of him, Andy watched as Talia raised her blade high into the air, holding a struggling Martin to the ground with her boot to his throat.
This scene…he knew this scene.
A helpless Human splayed on the ground—a monster standing above them, ready to strike the killing blow.
Something primal stirred deep within the beast—it was an overwhelming energy which boiled in his heart and spread to his lungs, every fiber of air being compressed and compressed until it finally erupted. An ear-shattering roar exploded from Andy’s throat as he charged forward, bursting through Snoozie’s barrier.
Just as Talia’s blade began its downward arc, Andy slammed into her with his shoulder, blasting her several yards across the clearing, her momentum coming to a stop when her spine was folded across a young oak. Talia gasped for air, letting out a few pained gurgles as Andy approached.
The beast’s massive form loomed over Talia, his hot breath blasting against her face as he pinned her to the ground. His golden eyes blazed with rage. With a snarl that exposed rows of dagger-like teeth, Andy's claws sank deep into Talia's shoulders. The witchdoctor cried out in agony, her one good arm struggling weakly against the beast’s overwhelming strength.
Andy’s jaws snapped shut mere inches away from her throat as she tried to turn her head away. His fangs grazed her skin, drawing pinpricks of blood. Foam dripped from his lips, the saliva burning Talia’s open wounds.
With the final reserves of her strength, Talia gripped her sickle with her scorched hand and plunged it into Andy’s side. The curved blade sank deep between his ribs. Though he let out a pained yelp, the attack only served to enrage Andy more.
Martin struggled to his feet, his leg bleeding where Talia's sickle had cut him. He limped forward, heart pounding as he watched his son poised to deliver a killing blow. In the scant few seconds it took the process, Martin went over everything one last time in his head.
Was it really worth letting his son kill this woman? That he’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life?
His eyes scanned the fearful gaze of the others. They didn’t want to see this. Nobody did, besides maybe the red-haired one. With a pained grunt, Martin began to limp toward the two as the others watched on.
“Andy?” Martin called out. The beast’s ears twitched at the sound of Martin’s voice, but his jaws remained gnashing at Talia’s throat. A low growl continued to rumble from the beast’s chest, massive form trembling with hardly-restrained fury, muscles coiled and ready to tear the witchdoctor apart.
Martin inched closer, his hands raised in the air. The beast’s eyes darted toward him—he relented with his biting, but kept the woman pinned down. She weakly clawed at Andy’s thick fur, trying anything to escape. Blood trickled from where his teeth pressed against her skin.
“I know you’re in there son, and I know, because you’re gonna listen to me.” Martin winced a bit at his own words, as did the beast give a warning growl. The old man gave a glance back at Snoozie before he continued.
“…Son, I know you’re scared, and I know you’re angry right now. Everything’s changing so fast, and it feels like the whole world’s against you. But you…you’ve got a choice to make here, and that choice is gonna define you. You can give into that rage inside you, you can rip this woman a part, make her pay for everything she’s done. I won’t blame you one bit for it. Lord knows she deserves it.”
The beast’s growls quieted some as Talia continued to weakly pelt his arm. Martin kept going.
“But I don’t think you’re gonna do that. The boy I raised, he’s got a good heart. Even when the world’s beaten him down, he still tries to do right by folk. That’s who you really are, son. Not this beast, not this monster they tried to make you into.”
Andy’s grip on Talia loosened slightly, his golden eyes fixed on Martin. The old man took another tentative step closer.
Martin took another cautious step towards Andy, his hands still raised. The beast's eyes remained locked on him, but his grip on Talia continued to loosen.
"I know I haven't always been the best father. I've made a lot of mistakes. But I love you, son. No matter what you look like on the outside, you'll always be my boy. And I know the Andy I raised is still in there."
The beast's snarls quieted to low rumbles. His ears twitched, taking in Martin's words. For a long moment, Andy was motionless, muscles still tensed. Then, slowly, he began to relax his grip on Talia. The witchdoctor groaned as the pressure eased. With a low whine, Andy finally released Talia and backed away.
The rage that had consumed him moments ago began to ebb, replaced by fear. He looked down at his bloody claws, then back at Martin, letting out a soft whine.
Martin approached slowly, his hands still raised. "That's it, son. It's okay. You're okay."
Andy's ears flattened against his head as Martin drew closer. The beast took another step back, unsure. For a moment, the beast remained still, eyeing Martin warily. Then, hesitantly, he leaned forward and sniffed Martin's outstretched hand. A flicker of recognition passed through his golden eyes.
With a whimper, Andy pressed his muzzle into Martin's palm. Martin let out a shaky breath, tears welling in his eyes as he gently stroked Andy's fur.
“There’s my boy.” Martin whispered.
The touching moment was cut short when the beast wavered a bit to the side, his hand going to the sizzling wound in his ribcage. Blood continued to ooze out of it like a fountain, and though adrenaline had kept him going for a good long while, Andy was starting to get a little woozy. His golden eyes began to glaze over, struggling to focus.
Martin reached out to steady his son, but Andy's legs buckled beneath him. The beast crashed to the muddy ground with a heavy thud that shook the clearing. Leaves and debris scattered from the impact. Andy let out a low, pained whine as he tried and failed to push himself back up.
"Andy!" Martin cried out, kneeling beside the fallen Werewolf. The others rushed over, faces ripe with concern.
Andy's breaths were ragged, his chest heaving. The silver from Talia's blade was working its way through his system, weakening him further with each passing moment. His vision swam, the faces of his friends and father blurring into indistinct shapes. The sounds of their voices grew muffled and distant, as if underwater.
With a final, shuddering exhale, Andy’s eyes rolled back. Everything went dark.