A lone howl, rich with longing, had risen from a nearby building. Another howl had emerged from another office building, reaching toward Antonio.

More had been added to their unique timbre, a signature of the individuals. The call and response of a communion, wolves communicating across water and land. Snowy hills and sandy dunes.

People had huddled in apartment buildings, lobbies, homes, offices, and vehicles, whispering. Their faces had been pinched between disbelief and dread.

Several blocks away, under humming fluorescent lights, panicked people watched a sputtering news feed. The reporter's voice had cracked as the chilling chant began. "...reports of... responses. Across the globe. In every city. They’re... everywhere.”

A family had sat on a wall when suddenly a bloodcurdling howl had ripped through the thin walls. It hadn't been distant. It had been right outside. The father had grabbed his two daughters, as the mother had held their son when they heard it. Their young neighbor from upstairs had stumbled on their door, her eyes wide with terror. She had reached for the family's knob, but had frozen mid-motion. A low growl had come from behind her. She had stared forward at the door, exchanging a silent, heart-stopping plea. Then, with a SNAP, the lock had crumbled.

Two enormous figures had burst in, the low light glinting off fur and fangs. But these had not been beasts. They had been the other neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Garcia, the friendly couple from down the hall. Their familiar smiles had been contorted into snarls, eyes primed with hunger.

Mr. Garcia’s eyes had locked onto the woman. Recognition had flickered within the feral mask, a flicker she had clung to. “Maria?" he had rasped, a guttural echo of his human voice.

She had whimpered, tears carving tracks through the dust on her cheeks. “Carlos, please..."

He had stepped closer, the air thick with fur. His hand, now a monstrous paw, had brushed against hers. A sob had torn from her throat as a transformation had shivered under her skin.

Outside, cars had screeched, horns had blared, desperate attempts to drown out the symphony of howls that had filled the air. On rooftops and fire escapes, silhouettes had writhed, shadows twisting into lupine forms.

A teenage girl, huddled against a streetlamp, watched in numb horror as her best friend, Sarah, had climbed onto a parked car. Sarah’s eyes had shone with an unnatural hunger, her nails lengthening into claws.

“Sarah... don’t..." the girl had whispered, her voice lost in the rising chorus of howls.

Sarah had turned, her face an eerie blend of girl and wolf. A smile, both predatory and playful, had flashed across her face. “Join me, Maya," she had said, her voice a guttural purr. “It’s the only way."

A sob had choked in Maya’s throat. They had been supposed to go to the beach that summer. Instead, they were on the precipice of a world forever changed.

On the other side of the city, panic had turned to chilling calm in the sterile conference room. Managers and staff sat ramrod straight, faces ashen in harsh light. Their eyes had watched a television screen streaming global reports. The howls had reached this ivory tower, a stark reminder of the fragile barrier between civilization and primal chaos.

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"What did this mean?" A Caucasian woman in her late fifties had turned to the people sitting at the table. Her voice had squeaked. "When did... it end?" Her questions hung heavy in the howling silence.

At a south side high school, Mary had sat alone, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the empty court. The silence had pressed against her ears, amplifying the distant echo of the howls. Mr. Harris, the school janitor, his usually calm face etched with worry, had approached Mary, his steps hesitant. He had stopped beside Mary, his gaze mirroring her fear. “Mary, are you alright?”

She shook her head, voice barely a whisper. "Fuck no. It’s everywhere… like they’re… everywhere."

“I know. It’s...” He had paused, searching for words. “Unsettling. But we need to stay calm. These… things… whatever they are, it’s clear there’s more to it than meets the eye.”

“More? What do you mean?”

He had leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "This threat can't be real. Supernatural things just don't happen in reality."

A distant howling had started again, closer this time, sending chills down everyone’s spines. Mary had looked past Mr. Harris to her math teacher, kneeling with four classmates she didn't know. She clutched a silvery cross. A student had held his phone, recording frantically.

The gym door had flung open, and a dark figure had emerged into the space. It had been Mrs. Henderson, the librarian, her face contorted in a silent scream as fur erupted from her skin.

Mr. Harris grabbed Mary’s arm, pulling her towards an exit door. "We need to go!"

Mary hesitated, staring at the transforming Mrs. Henderson, “What about her? What about everyone else?”

Urgency had spilled in his voice, "We can’t help them if we’re not safe ourselves! Come on!”

Mary was looking for a second at Mrs. Henderson. The chilling sight had bewildered her mind. Her body was frozen as Mr. Harris tugged at her arm.

Within seconds, the two survivors had escaped the school. They had run past people staring, bewildered at their phones. Mary had seen a woman with her wide eyes as she jogged past. She had heard the woman's voice tremble. "Did you hear that?"

The man near her had sniffed the air. "A… sound? Like a howl?"

Suddenly, a high-pitched cry had pierced the open air. The echo had bounced off the steel and glass towers. It had been close. Too close.

Panic had erupted. People had run, screaming, searching for escape. A father had clutched his child, eyes darting wildly. A businesswoman had thrown her phone down in disgust, the screen a blank mirror reflecting her fear.

Then, another howl, closer still. And another. From rooftops, from alleyways, from within the very buildings themselves, the chilling sound of wolves had risen, a chorus of defiance.

A young woman, a barista, had stepped onto the street. Her eyes, once bright with caffeine and chatter, had been filled with a strange resolve. She had thrown off her apron, revealing a worn leather jacket beneath. Her fingers had twitched, claws tearing through the fabric of her jeans.

Across the square, a construction worker had ripped his shirt, revealing a powerful, furred chest. He had let out a guttural roar, the sound resonating with the metal scaffolding that had surrounded him.

One by one, others had followed. A schoolteacher, a delivery man, a librarian – their bodies had contorted, twisted, and shifted. Bones snapped, muscles bulged, human faces morphed into snouts and fangs. The city square became a kaleidoscope of transformation, a grotesque ballet of flesh and fur.

There had been no full moon. Only direct sunlight with a hint of clouds. The wolves had raised their heads, howling to the heavens, their voices merging into a deafening symphony of defiance. It was a primal song, a response to the pack of royalty that had reshaped their world.

“When all had heard… The sounds had subsided until silence echoed.”

But this silence was different. It hadn’t been the silence of shock or fear. There was silence before the bombs are dropped, the pregnant pause before destruction descended, ready to scorch the earth to bedrock.

A bank teller. A homeless person. A gas station operator. Down the street. WIthin supermarkets. Behind tourist locations. In the halls of buildings, great and small. They came out. They all stood outside. On balconies, rooftops, everywhere there’s open space.

People transformed. Into wolves. Ferals. Howling in reply to the call.