The desperation in the stairwell was palpable, the pleas for help growing more frenetic. Pending doom cast a chilling pallor over the mob. It was a futile struggle that became mocked by the first guttural growls of the approaching werewolves seeped through the cracks. The sound was low, menacing, a predatory rhythm that struck terror into the hearts of those who could identify it. Nia, maintaining her silence, felt the weight of the impending danger. The air itself seemed to pulse with the shared fear of those who knew, deep down, that escape was a distant dream.
The pounding on the door grew more distressed. Each strike a plea to live. Karen, torn between her self-imposed conviction and the undeniable reality on the other side of the door, hesitated. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, a fleeting acknowledgment of the dire circumstances. Yet, the barricaded door remained closed, sealing the fate of those trapped in the stairwell.
As the trapped mob of unarmed people huddled in the confined stairwell, their frantic breaths and desperate pleas filled the air. Every passing second echoed their pounding hearts. Suddenly, the human despair and pleas to Karen were interrupted by a sound that seemed to rise from the depths of hell’s nightmares, an unholy resonance that sent shivers down the spines of those trapped.
Heavy footsteps, once disorganized, they get closer. Louder. The werewolves ascended the stairs with eerie coordination, their clawed paws clinking against the steps like macabre percussion. The growls intensified, a chorus of predatory hunger, and the air was saturated with the scent of musky fur with the copper tang of blood.
Someone whispered, “We can’t just wait here. We have to do something.” A man’s alto voice was heard, “We need to stay calm and quiet. Maybe they’ll forget us and go somewhere else.” But fear seeped into his voice, betraying his own doubts.
The trapped residents, their bodies pressed against the locked door, fell into a terrified silence. The impending horror descended upon them like a suffocating shroud. There was a silent shuffle to shift some one to die first, and insanely hope the werewolves would not attack them. The first werewolf appeared, its silhouette framed by the dim glow of emergency lights. A grotesque distortion of humanity, it moved with primal grace, its fur rustling with each deliberate step. Others followed, a relentless tide of lupine monstrosities, eyes gleaming with feral hunger.
The door bulged from the mass of bodies, but was not released from the hinges.
A collective gasp escaped the trapped residents as they beheld the nightmare unfolding before them. The werewolves’ growls now mingled with the terrified whimpers of the mob. Hands reached the locked door, clawing against the unmoving barrier. Escape became a selfish free-for-all. As the werewolves closed in, heart-wrenching cries accompanied their advance of those who knew their fate was sealed.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The peak of tension, hummed as the embodiment of predatory grace, confronted the terrified soul at the forefront of the trapped mob. The werewolf, its fur glistening with a malevolent sheen, advanced with an unsettling blend of predatory elegance. Its claws clicked against the concrete walls and metal stairs. Each sound amplified the terror that gripped the trapped residents. The eyes of the werewolf gleamed with feral hunger, fixed on its prey – a person whose breaths came in short, panicked bursts. As the werewolf closed the distance, the trapped person pressed against people who had nowhere to go. She felt the strangely intimate body heat and solid mass of somebody as if her back faced a lover. The haunting overture to escape this foreplay of death tensed all her muscles.
She choked back tears and gulped with a lungful of air. The impromptu barrier of flesh and muscle behind her held her in place. Yet there was no comfort in this forced intimacy, only the haunting realization of shared vulnerability. She could feel the collective fear vibrating through the huddled group, a symphony of gasps and stifled sobs that were a sinister prelude to the impending horror. Dread made her muscles tense. Tears threatened at the edges of her vision, but she choked them back, knowing that weakness in this moment could be fatal.
The strangest of lewd thoughts flooded her mind in this weirdest of moments as the lupine beast drooled. A movie scene bloomed instead of her life images.
Her mind remembered the man telling his woman to make love to him during lunch hour on a public street. He paws at her, she pushes him away. He feels her up, she gets pissed and slugs him in the mouth. His lips bled, she instinctively comforted him. He lunges forward, tearing at her dress. They roll around on the ground, scratching and clawing at one another. The crowd forms. The woman goes insane, screaming and pounding him with insane rage. He tanks her beating. Her last fist struck him on the chest, then she’s kissing and biting his mouth, breathless, still pounding with her fists. She calls him locker room language as she opens his pants. Eyes widen, women cover their men’s eyes. The woman shouts to her lover to take her, fuck her, in front of everyone. She is out of her head as he puts her legs in the air like a porn star and he thrusts into her. Her eyes pop open as he is barbaric. She makes primal cries. A busload of girls pulls up next to them – they are amazed at what they are seeing. Crowd cheers, traffic stops, the man unleashes his bestial lust, and she shrieks like a banshee being banished from existence. He shouts something about being alive. Doubles his efforts, fighting for his climax, she’s close to her own climax, powerful enough to drench the fires in hell. Her eyes refocused as the werewolf lunged with a savage grace, jaws snapping open in a grotesque display of unrestrained brutality. Her rapidly beating heart tightened into a knot of unbridled terror in her chest.
The impact occurred with a sickening crunch, a collision of feral power against the fragility of safety. Her desperate scream pierced the air, a heart-wrenching plea for mercy that went unanswered. Jaws snapped open, revealing gleaming fangs that promised brutality beyond imagination. Her screams for mercy and help pierced the air like a dagger, a heart-wrenching cry that seemed to reach into the deepest recesses of the collective soul. It was a plea for salvation in the face of unrelenting savagery, an anguished song that went unanswered in a cold, unforgiving space. Gulping down a lungful of air, she tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. The reality of the brutality before her was a weight on her chest.