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VARKAZANA ASCENSION
Chap 37 - Witness

Chap 37 - Witness

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The sun bled into the jungle canopy, painting tangled vines and gnarled trunks in hues of bruised violet and smoldering crimson. Beneath the emerald crush of leaves, the humid air clung to a female werewolf's musky fur like a shroud, heavy with the metallic tang of fear and the musky sweetness of night-blooming desert orchids. The cloying scent of jungle rot clung to her fur like a second skin. The setting sun, a bleeding wound in the sky, cast long, skeletal shadows. The earth beneath her paws was a mosaic of sun-baked clay and tangled roots, unforgiving and dry.

Beneath her bloodied rags, her muscles screamed for respite, her breath rasping in her throat like a dying ember. The jungle, once a verdant haven, had choked into a labyrinth of twisted vines and gnarled trunks, a dead-end mocking her desperate flight. Lumbering footsteps shook the ground, while guttural roars echoed through the choked canopy. She tore through the undergrowth as she ran. Sweat slicked on her matted fur, each ragged breath a rasping sob against the thundering drums of her own heart.

Behind her, the earth pulsed with the thunderous gait of the two giants, nine feet tall and as wide as a mountain troll. Twice their unnatural size, their eyes burned like malevolent embers in the gathering dusk. With them, vampires, six shadows woven from moonlight and sin, were still closer. Their laughter, a high-pitched keening that scraped against her sanity, was laced with the promise of agony. Ahead, the jungle slammed shut in a brutal mockery of hope. A fortress of thorns, a labyrinth of twisted limbs, it barred her escape like a cruel, mocking god.

Her shirt, once a shield of gray cotton, now hung in tattered shreds, barely clinging to the curves of her bloodied form. Exhaustion, a cold serpent, coiled around her heart, squeezing with each ragged breath. The jungle, once a sanctuary, had become a cage, woven from thorns and despair.

A mountain of rage lunged, a granite-fisted giant, but Anya, fueled by primal instinct, spun away. She twisted, a blur of fur and fury, sinking her teeth into his meaty elbow, severing tendons and veins. The taste of bone and blood filled her mouth, a savage communion, before a searing flash of pain ripping through her before she was flung backward, limbs flailing.

The vampires swarmed, six shadows undulating out of the deepening gloom. Creatures of silken grace and chilling beauty stalked alongside, their eyes glinting with predatory hunger.

Their laughter is a jarring dissonance, a macabre symphony. This sound isn’t just an audio assault; it’s a psychological torment. It burrows into the listener’s mind as parasitic maggots on flesh. The vampire chorus flayed at her frayed nerves. It was a melancholic sigh of wind chimes into an abandoned house. Each tinkling melody is twisted by drafts that moan through hollow rooms and creak along warped floorboards warped by the sharp, jagged barks of a pack of ravenous hyenas at their hungriest.

Their eyes, bloodied pools of molten amber, promised an eternity of torment, of desires twisted into perverted weapons. They danced around her, fangs bared, each strike a blur of enhanced speed. Their violent attacks were a blur of teeth and claws.

She weaved her way, desperate to escape the jungle when it slammed shut in a cruel mockery of hope. A fortress of thorns, an impenetrable labyrinth of twisted limbs, barred her escape like a skeletal gatekeeper. She was trapped, a cornered fox facing a pack of ravenous wolves.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Her senses swam, the desert air thick with the musky musk of pheromones, weaving insidious whispers of surrender into her mind. A hypnotic assault tried to rape her mind. Beneath her matted pelt, her ragged breaths rasping pleas to these predators.

But she was no sheep.

She was a storm. Her fear transformed into anger. She would not be beaten. Not without making these night creatures pay a heavy price.

A daughter of the earth with blood that sang of defiance.

With a guttural snarl, she met their fury with her own. Her sheer force of will was a testimony of her being. She would never be fully broken. There's something in her that's vengeful, angry, and a survivalist. You can break every bone in her body, but if there's one left, she will fix it and use it as a weapon.

The first giant, fueled by thwarted hunger, lunged. She twisted, a quicksilver shadow against his lumbering bulk, her teeth sunk into the meaty flesh of his elbow. The werewolf pirouetted through his blow into her shoulder, her claws ripping flesh, her teeth snapping bone. A cornered wolf, a goddess stripped to near nudity as if to shame her with visceral humility. For beings of evil void, they were loathsome.

She tasted dirt and blood, but she clawed back up. Defiance flickers in her wolfen eyes.

Claws lashed, teeth gleamed, fur bristled under a cloak of crimson dust. The ballet of violence was a macabre masterpiece. The giants, clumsy oafs, swung their fists like battering rams, their blows shaking the ground. The vampires, quicksilver shadows, darted in and out, their attacks a blur of teeth and claws

Each blow left tracks of scarlet, her exhaustion a war banner unfurled against the dying light. A single ember of her wolf pack, wove and dodged. Her claws ripping pale flesh, her teeth nipping bone. She was a feisty whirlwind, a dance of fierce heat in the encroaching chilly darkness. The vampires closed in like vipers, their attacks a blur of fangs and talons. Her vision blurred, her breath ragged, the icy grip of despair clawed at her throat.

This was her last stand, a Pyrrhic poem etched in blood and moonlight. But the tide was turning. The cornered werewolf fought against the promise of a brutal end. The giants, fueled by rage and pain, pressed to their advantage. Her enemies closed in for the kill.

Or so they thought.

A glint of fang, a flash of white, split the sunset light. A ripple of snarls tore through the crowded villains, readying to have fun with her dead body.

A guttural roar, louder than thunder, echoed through the jungle. From the unseen, a dozen shadows sprang, fangs and fury bared. The pack, silent hunters rising from the earth, flanked their enemies in a crescent of teeth and moonlight.

A monstrous werewolf, a mountain of fur and muscle, erupted from the undergrowth, blades of moonlight in its teeth. A vampire, caught unawares, never saw the death blow coming. The giant blade of a werewolf talon, swift and silent, severed its head from its body in a single, brutal stroke. The heart, still beating, was crushed in the werewolf’s massive paw with a sickening crunch.

The monstrous werewolf, a mountain of fur and muscle, materialized from death’s shadow. The creature stepped closer, its eyes glowing with malicious intent. Its mouth opened in a snarl, revealing a set of razor-sharp fangs.

A ripple of shock. The remaining monsters spun, eyes wide with dawning terror. They were surrounded. Werewolves, eyes burning with cold fury, emerged from the shadows, a pack of nightmares materialized from the trees. The pack slowly began to encircle them, and they knew their fate was sealed. Their so;ent huffs whispered cold vengeance.

The fight that followed was a whirlwind of fur, fang, bone, and fury. The werewolves, fueled by rage and the thrill of the hunt, tore through the two giants like a pack of ravenous wolves. Crimson arterial sprays painted the foliage in the dying light. The jungle floor became a testament to the savage ballet, limbs and gore splattered like grotesque brushstrokes onto the emerald canvas. And then, silence.

An eerie quiet settled over the jungle, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets and the panting of the victors. The werewolves, their bodies stained with the crimson testament to their victory, stood panting in the fading light, their eyes burning with the cold fire of vengeance. The giants crumbled under the weight of their rage. The first to fall.

In the blink of an eye, the hunters were the hunted. Their eyes widened with dawning terror. They were surrounded. Werewolf fangs bared in a silent snarl. The lead vampire stood, haughty and over confident. Daring to be attacked in his superiority.

The werewolves's roar that erupted from their throats was enough to make his bones tremble.