Regret shimmered in her eyes, and that was the exact moment when I realized there was no going back.

"I should have told you!" Cherish cried.

"You knew all along. You could have ended this horror at any moment." I said coldly. I later wished I had said nothing. She was in enough pain already, she had suffered terribly. I ask myself, if I really loved her, why did I leave her there in the snow, crying and wailing? I ignored her as we took our guns and filed up the staircase into the entrance to hell.

I was the first inside, nearly gagging on the stench of fresh death. The living room was festooned in gore, and blood had soaked the tipped lightbulb of the lamp, darkening the room and casting an eerie light. I found May, or what was left of her. The beast was nowhere to be found.

Shuddering with nerves and anxiety, I led the others through each room until we were sure the beast had left. The biting cold outside clouded my breath. As it cleared I saw in the flickering light and the start of a light snowfall that Cherish was gone. There was blood and something had dragged her to the shadows.

I rushed down there, my heart racing and what I saw froze my blood. In the full moon's light I saw it there, hunched over her, tearing and eating. Her body twitched and I saw into her eyes. She'd never even screamed, it had torn out her throat before she knew it was upon her.

Raising my weapon, I squeezed the trigger over and over, unloading every bullet I had into it from behind. It fell over, wheezing and its body convulsed. I watched with wide eyes and sweat freezing on my forehead as it looked at me. It struggled to get up, the multiple gunshot wounds causing the hair-covered creature massive bone and tissue trauma. It wasn't dead, though and it crawled towards me while I backed away, my hands shaking too much to reload. I kept dropping bullets into the snow instead of loading them into the hunting rifle.

The growl of the creature penetrated into my bones, vibrating my body as it suddenly burst onto me from the snow. Like a wolf, but hideous and horrible, its claws open like a wide embrace. It landed atop me, tackling me. There it straddled me and began to slash my face and chest with its knifelike claws.

"Cherish." I gasped, realizing with delayed clarity that she was dead. There was a barrage of bullets tearing into it, through it, blasting pieces off it, chunks of flesh and tufts of its fur flying everywhere. Everyone was shooting it where it was, atop me. The beast let out the most mournful, pained howl any beast had ever emitted, and then it died and fell over me, its blood mixing with mine.

It was eleven days before my eyes opened again. At first I thought I was in a hospital, but then I saw that there were no windows, only concrete walls. I was the only one in my cell, and a cell it was, the door was like a bulkhead. My wounds were just thin white scars, and my chart said I was a 'Type LYCA-3' in 'initial recovery phase' with a 'prospective disposition, clean transfer'. I had no idea what any of it meant. The monitor was quietly beeping, alerting someone somewhere I was awake. I noticed there was also a surveillance camera and a rather elaborate looking carbon monoxide detector. There was a drain in the floor and a slot was cut into the bulkhead-style door of my cell, presumably so they could offer me food without opening the door.

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The door opened and a woman was standing there wearing a tight uniform and a disdainful gaze. "I'd have to be the one on duty when you surfaced. The procedure says I should befriend you, accompany you while you explore your new home, feed you and answer all of your questions with honesty and patience. I say the procedure is stupid. I've already sniffed you, all I have to do is give you a little taste of what I am, and you'll be like a little lost puppy dog. Doesn't that sound like more fun?"

I blinked and my hands fell along the intravenous feed in my arm. "Could I have these out?" I asked. I had a lot of questions and I had no idea what she wanted from me, but it seemed to take priority.

"My name is Bruna. I'm a little different from you, because I am of the first type of what we are. I also volunteered to serve my country, while you are drafted. So there's a few differences. However, one thing we both have in common, want to know what that is?" Bruna asked me. She gently removed the tubes and needles and kept smiling wryly. There was something in her eyes that scared me, something predatory and powerful and violent. I felt like she could kill me on a whim with her bare hands and that doing so was something she often did. This woman was a murderer, some instinct in me told me that she had killed many people horribly. It was hard to imagine, she wasn't particularly powerfully built. It was just this overwhelming instinct.

Bruna sat on the bed and had her eyes locked on mine as she licked her wrist, leaving saliva on it. Then she reached towards my face, making me flinch.

"Smell me." She said.

I could smell her saliva and it made my head swim. My blood started racing and my eyes dilated. My fear of her left me and was instantly replaced with a feeling of a deep bond and familiarity. "What is that?" I asked.

"All our kind recognize each other. You and I are especially compatible. The blood wants what it wants. Believe me, you smell just as good to me. I almost ate you up when they brought you in." Bruna giggled strangely. I felt a chill, as I saw her teeth flash in the dim light. It gave me a flashback to the beast as it leapt at me.

"Werewolf." I choked on the word.

"Don't be crude." Bruna scooted closer to me and smiled. "We are gods. This world needs us. You think the sheep are safe out there?"

"Killed Cherish." I stated with anger in my voice. I heard a strange growl inside me as I said it.

"I'm sorry. Not one of ours. We wear collars. Type Three sometimes leaves infected survivors and they too become lycans. That's what you are. You will be one of us from now on."

"There's no cure." I knew.

"Cure? Sure, there is. Dead lycans don't infect people. Oh wait, that's not always true. I should say a dead lycan has only infected someone once, that I know of."

"Bullets cure werewolves." I cringed. I thought of Cherish, my heart breaking at the thought of never seeing her again.

"You haven't asked any of the usual questions." Bruna smiled, giving me an approving gaze. "You are an honest man. You don't think there's anything to question. You don't have secrets."

"I don't. Only regrets." I felt my eyes watering. "Can I be alone?"

"You want me to go? I'll hold you if you want. I know you lost someone. Maybe you want me to stay?" Bruna sounded kind and understanding, but I sensed it was an act. She wanted me, she didn't care about Cherish or what I'd gone through.

"Please leave me alone." I told her.

Bruna didn't take the rejection stoically. "Pathetic." She growled. She got up and took two steps before she stopped with a strange and cruel look on her face. She walked over to me and turned away from me, her butt practically in my face. She just stood there for a few seconds before she walked out of my cell and said:

"See you later. Better be nice to me."

I had held my breath, but I still caught her scent and for a little while I forgot Cherish. It was only after the air had recycled enough that the fog she'd left cleared, clearing my head. I suddenly remembered the whole nightmare. Months of terror and death, and the end of it was the beginning of a far worse story.

There were no questions I had, just answers I wanted to forget.