Sniffer had collected Tiddles and made his way down to the river. Along its edge lay several abandoned buildings near where he had seen the fishermen early that afternoon. Sniffer had chosen one with a large open front and no glass in its window, allowing him to see outside easily and allowing Tiddles to get out quickly. They both had settled in and were watching for any signs of Spylore activity. As the light faded, the shadows started playing tricks with Sniffer, and he thought he kept seeing movement down by the river. Each time, though, nothing appeared, and he was making himself nervous due to his heightened senses and overactive mind. He knew Tiddles would react if anything was out there, as his senses were much more acute than his own.
“Let’s stay here a little longer and then maybe head out slightly across the river,” Sniffer whispered to Tiddles, who turned his head and looked at him intently. Suddenly, Tiddles’ head snapped back around, facing out of the window, and his haunches tensed.
“You smell them, boy,” He whispered.
Tiddles didn’t make a sound and stayed perfectly still. He knew he sensed something, so he sat and listened, staring out by the river in the general direction Tiddles faced. He could not hear or see anything in the pitch dark, apart from the gurgling sounds made by the river as it flowed past their location. He heard a soft thud and a creaking sound, and no more than 100 feet from them, a Spylore had landed on the wooden decking on this side of the river. Sniffer could not see it very clearly as the clouds were thick tonight, and there was not much moonlight able to fight through, but the silhouette was that of a Spylore.
It stood there momentarily and then started moving towards the town. Sniffer was just about to give Tiddles the order to go when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A second Spylore must have crossed at a different location as it moved further down the river’s edge. Then, a third appeared. ‘Shit,’ thought Sniffer, this wasn’t good. They rarely hunted in packs or travelled away from their dens together, which was unusual. He knew they would not usually venture into buildings, and the small house he had found them in only had an open window at the front and a closed doorway.
He watched the three of them make their way from the riverside and start moving to the road leading into the town area. He could feel the tension and hatred seeping off Tiddles, and if he could have spoken, I am sure he would have been swearing and wishing to go and kill them. “We need to be smart, boy,” he whispered. “I am going to draw their attention, then you can attack, cat and mouse, you know.”
Sniffer slowly opened the door and crept out into the street. He walked about fifty feet to stand, looking down the street that one of the Spylore had gone. His heart was racing, and blood was pumping through his veins, hearing his heartbeat inside his eardrums much louder than he should have been able to. His senses had peaked to an adrenaline-pumped level, and every step he made sounded like he was stomping his feet. He had played cat and mouse before with them, but every time he did, he took his life in his hands.
Tiddles had made his way outside and was silently following Sniffer. He knew the game Sniffer wanted to play, and he liked this one. They had used it several times, and he had perfected his side attack by playing this game. He knew exactly where to hit a Spylore from the side to decapitate it in one hit. It’s what he had done at the old farmhouse, and he was looking forward to a nice bit of Spylore to eat. He had been out hunting, but nothing beat a fresh Spylore, in his opinion.
Sniffer very slowly moved out into the centre of the road area where the Spylore had moved. Tiddles was crouching at the edge of the building wall, out of sight still. He could see their outlines slowly moving into the township. Calming his nerves, he let out a long, slow breath, inhaled and whistled as loud as he could. The closest Spylore, prowling a few buildings away, turned and looked at him. As soon as it saw him, it turned and began to approach. Sniffer stood still, resisting every fibre in his body that told him to flee. He knew it would reach him in seconds and hoped Tiddles was ready. He hadn’t let him down yet, but there was always a first.
The Spylore sped up, taking four loping bounds, and then, with a growl, pounced at Sniffer. The distance they could cover competed with Tiddles. As the Spylore approached being perpendicular to Tiddles, he launched. Sniffer knew that there was not a Wild One alive that could compete with a beast from a standing start; the immense power in their legs made them travel like a bullet. He flew sideways at the Spylore and caught it mid-pounce, his jaws open and snapping his mouth shut perfectly around its head. The power from his bite was so immense that it sheered through bone, cartilage and sinew, tearing the Spylore's head free from the rest of its body. The Spylore’s body continued its forward motion and crumpled to the ground at Sniffer’s feet, spraying blood across the road as its heart beat its final pulses, not realising it no longer had a head to support, sending jets of blood out of the stump where its head had been.
“Good boy,” Sniffer called. “Watch it, though, boy.” The other two Spylores appeared from side streets on hearing the challenge made by the now decapitated remains of their pack member. On seeing their pack mates’ dead body, they let out horrendous roars. The sound was hard to explain, but it was piercing, wild, and nerve-shattering; it seemed to penetrate every centimetre of your body, sending your nerves on edge. It was one of the eeriest sounds Sniffer could ever remember hearing, and even though he had heard it many times before, it always made him shiver involuntarily.
They snarled, moving towards Tiddles before picking up speed and charging. Sniffer was still standing in the road and quickly getting his wits back bolted back towards the building. He wouldn’t get caught in what he knew would ensue. Tiddles let out a deafening howl of his own and attacked. Witnessing a beast battle was like watching everything at high speed, although with adrenaline flowing through Sniffer's veins, his intensely heightened senses watched it unfold in slow motion. He was seeing every swing and strike.
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Claws and fangs flashed everywhere, strike after strike towards Tiddles, who pawed off most attacks. A couple landed on Tiddles, but no blood was drawn. His fur and skin were so thick, acting like body armour. Tiddle's strength was on his side, though; as a Spylore jumped to strike at his face, he swung his paw and sent it flying, batting it like a cat with a toy mouse into some bushes by the roadside. The other had moved to try and pincer him, coming around his side and launching at him. As he did, Tiddles leapt directly into the air. Seeing a several hundred-pound beast launch vertically so quickly was a sight to behold, and it always amazed Sniffer to see his true agility. The Spylore slashed out with its claws as he sailed underneath where Tiddles had stood just a second before.
Tiddles landed and spun, tearing at the one who had just attacked him. He caught it by its rear leg, sinking his claws deeply into its flank, and then plunged his fangs in deep, ripping a chunk of flesh from its thigh. It yelped in a spine-tingling squeal of pain. Tiddles released it as the other one, which had recovered from being hit into the bushes, swiped for him. It caught him on the end of his nose as he turned with a razor-sharp claw and drew blood. Tiddles howled in rage, going into a frenzy. His eyes appeared to glow red as he attacked. He slashed and pawed with his claws, snapping and biting at the Spylore. All it could do was back away from the violent onslaught, and it could not get in a position to strike back, with only defensive moves being its saviour. Tiddles's speed and relentless offensive capability were amazing to watch; his agility and reflexes were incredible.
The Spylore he had bitten was trying to rejoin the fight but could not use its rear leg, dragging it limply behind as it stood hobbling towards the fight. Tiddles had done enough damage to prevent it from being a threat, and he ignored its approach, continuing his advance to the remaining threat. Eventually, the Spylore that Tiddles was going for could no longer stand against his pressure, and it turned and ran. It knew it was beaten and wasn’t going to win this fight. Tiddles turned deliberately, looking at his hobbling victim approaching him from the rear. He growled gutturally towards it. Sniffer watched and was sure he saw the last signs of hope leave its eyes as it swiped weakly towards Tiddles before he pounced on the injured Spylore, sinking his massive fangs into its neck. He knocked it on its side and stomped violently onto its head, making it howl out in its last attempt at defiance before biting down and, with a crunching of bones tearing through its neck, removing its head clear from its body.
Tiddles turned, looking in the direction the other Spylore had fled, and stood over his two downed enemies. He was panting heavily, and there was blood oozing from the slash on his nose mixed in with his gore-soaked face and dripping jaws. The beast looked like the epitome of evil, a blood-soaked demon from a child’s worst nightmare. Sniffer came out from the building where he had stood watching the conflict and went straight up to him. Tiddles stepped toward the escaping Spylore and looked ready to give chase. “Let it go, boy,” Sniffer said. “It will be back; you know they always come back.” Tiddles stood proudly amongst his fallen prey and howled. The sound reverberated throughout the township. No one would have slept through the cacophony of violence that had just unfolded.
He gave a low growl towards Sniffer, then turned towards the Spylore bodies and started to devour them, gulping down chunks of flesh and bone. Sniffer took a knife from his pocket, went up to both corpses and cut off their tails. “Well, that’s two down, six to go,” he said. Tiddles turned with a mouthful of Spylore and looked at Sniffer, grunting. Sniffer could feel the hatred and malevolence seeping off Tiddles towards them, and when he looked at him, it was visible in his eyes. They were still red in colour but not as bright as they had been when he fought, although they still appeared demonic in nature. It was strange how Beasts eyes always glowed when they attacked. Sniffer had never understood the reason behind it, but it was as though they had a fire burning in their bodies, waiting to be released.
Tiddles kept chomping on the remains as two of the guards very cautiously and hesitantly appeared from down the street. “Is it safe?” one of them called.
“For now,” Sniffer replied. “Two down, but a third escaped back over the river.”
“Fucking hell!” one of the guards exclaimed as he took in the scene of violence and the now torn-up remains of the Spylore. Entrails and blood were coating the street where the fight had occurred, and Tiddles had now been feasting.
“I am going to head and see Holland,” Sniffer stated.
“Sure, he is at the Brick House.” A guard replied.
“Maybe it's worth getting rid of the remains before the rest of the townsfolk come looking,” Sniffer said.
Blanching, one of the guards nodded his head in agreement.
Sniffer walked towards the town centre and signalled Tiddles to follow him.
The barrels that had been placed around were all burning brightly, and outside the Brick House, Holland stood waiting in trepidation with several other men who were all now armed with a variety of spear-like weapons.
“The whole town heard the commotion. Is everything okay?” Holland asked frantically.
Sniffer walked over and threw the two tails he had removed onto the steps.
A few men cheered, but Sniffer just looked at them blankly. “There are six more yet.” Tiddles walked up and sat himself down next to Sniffer. His fur seemed to absorb light, and the only colour that could be seen from the barrel light was that from his vast, blood-soaked maw. Several men shivered involuntarily at the sight of him.
“It is unlikely there will be another visit tonight,” Sniffer stated. “There were three of them, but one fled back over the river. I would expect it will return tomorrow or in a day or two. We will have to see, although I would ask that you post a guard down at the river just in case you need to raise an alarm if necessary.”
“No problem,” Holland replied.
“I will return to the house and get the beast cleaned up,” Sniffer said, turning and heading back down the road. They walked back to the small building, and Sniffer let them in and ordered Tiddles out the back into the yard. He then took a brush from inside and spent the next thirty minutes dowsing him in buckets of water from the rain barrel and scrubbing him clean. He checked the scratch Tiddles had on his nose, and it had started to scab over. “I will pop and see the Doc in the morning and see if she has any salve for that,” Sniffer said, rubbing him behind his ears. Tiddles tilted his head to one side and smiled in his beastly way at Sniffer. Sniffer chuckled at him, “Come on, time for sleep.” Sniffer's adrenaline had stopped flowing long ago, and he felt exhausted as if he had been the one fighting. They returned to the small building, and Tiddles settled on the broken couch as Sniffer headed into the bedroom.