The night always seemed to fall faster over the infamous St. Giles, the most notorious slum in Central London. Depending on who you asked about it, it was either a dark abyss from which the most desperate and unfortunate denizens of the bustling city tried to escape, or a hotspot of villainy, permeated by vice and violence that began at each horridly overcrowded tenement and ended in its dark, twisted alleys. Now that the servants of the Crown took it upon themselves to erase this disgraceful neighbourhood, evictions forced its inhabitants to disperse throughout the city, leaving the area mostly deserted.

Clemency took a brief look at the building in front of her. The dilapidated two-storey inn seemed quiet and desolate, yet she was sure this was where the tracks led her. She looked around and upon confirming that no one was watching her, she threw back the hood that concealed her blonde, braided hair. With her gloved right hand firmly holding a pistol, she gently pressed on the wooden door and stepped inside.

The interior was barren, save for a few toppled chairs and tables that were too damaged to be of use to anyone. It wasn’t lacking in rooms and alcoves to hide in, but the trail of blood immediately told Clem she would find her target upstairs.

So this is where he began his feast, she thought.

She pulled out a short dagger from her left boot and started sneaking towards the stairs. Hunched, she treaded softly so as not to make any noise. The men’s clothing she was wearing granted her the freedom of movement and agility required to step with the grace of a seasoned thief. She moved slowly along the wall to avoid any creaking floorboards and did her best to control her breath.

Considering the quarry she was after, no amount of precautions felt excessive.

‘I can smell you, you know,’ a gruff voice resounded throughout the room.

Clem stood up straight and looked at the heavyset man standing atop the stairs.

‘Well, at least I tried.’

‘I can see that,’ the man grinned, showing elongated teeth. ‘You must’ve rubbed yourself with some soil outside, but in here the dominant smell is that of rotting wood. You, on the other hand, reek of the gutter.’

Clem tilted her head to sniff her arm.

‘Now that you mention it, I see the difference.’

The man roared with frenzied laughter.

Clemency noted that he was so far gone, he was barely controlling himself. Even now, when he was trying to appear human, his sharp fangs, bloodshot eyes and wildly bristled hair put his true nature on display.

In the moonlight shining through the window behind him, she saw that his clothes were torn and covered in blood. The man’s fingers were dripping with gore and his short beard was darkened with crimson. At his feet she could make out a shape in the darkness that looked like a woman’s hand. It was constricted in a painful gesture and rigor mortis would soon suspend it in that mangled expression of anguish.

It crossed Clem’s mind that perhaps she wasn’t yet ready to hunt werewolves this close to full moon, even if it was in its waning phase.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

‘Are you afraid, girl?’ the man asked when he noticed she was taken aback. ‘Why? We’re just talking.’

His silhouette appeared to be growing, swelling in size. Claws began to extend from his fingertips.

He’s changing!

Clemency raised her pistol and took aim. She would’ve taken the shot if the beast had pounced straight towards her, like she expected. Instead, it jumped to the side onto the wall above her and leaped off of it, nearly knocking her over on its way. She turned around to face it, but the creature was already out of sight.

‘What did you expect to find here?’ She heard him snarl from somewhere across the room. ‘A fairytale creature, perhaps a vampire?’

‘I wish,’ she quipped. ‘A vampire would simply kill to satisfy its hunger, it’s an animal. What your sort does for pleasure… you’re nothing but monsters!’

‘There are many kinds of hunger.’

The low, rumbling voice came from somewhere very close. Clem turned sharply, just in time to see a dark shape bolting towards the old kitchen behind the bar.

Clemency’s fear was slowly giving way to anger as it dawned on her that the werewolf was toying with her. Hunting one so soon after the night of the full moon was a first for her, but this was far from her first mark. Get a grip, you’ve been trained for this, she thought to herself.

She rushed towards the old counter and leaped over it to chase after the monster. She jumped into the room, her finger firmly gripping the trigger, as she aimed her pistol at the corner where the beast was most likely to lie in hiding.

Damn!

A portion of the wall inside was damaged, and Clemency’s gun was trained on a huge, gaping hole. She turned around and lifted her left hand, anticipating an attack. Not a moment too soon, as the beast lunged and only the dagger stood between Clem’s face and its sharp fangs. Shielding herself reflexively, she pressed the blade flat against the monstrous man’s face. She heard it sizzle against his skin and saw his bloodshot eyes open wide with bewilderment. He growled in pain and ferociously swung at her with his claws. Clem stepped back at the last second, but the beast managed to strike the pistol in her hand. It went off and the silver bullet missed its mark, lodging itself in a brick instead of the monster’s flesh. With no time to reload it, Clemency dropped the gun and frantically reached inside the pouch hanging from her hip.

‘I’m gonna take my sweet time with you, girl!’ he snarled and pounced on her.

Clem fell onto her back to dodge the strike. With her right hand she crushed a large porcelain bead and threw the fragments upwards, dispersing its contents into the air. A mist of tiny metallic shreds glittered in the moonlight shining through the only window in the room. As the rushing beast stepped into the cloud, its skin began to sizzle.

‘GRRRRAAAAHH!!!' he roared, covering his face. 'My eyes! What did you do to me?! You dirty little WITCH!’

Clemency rolled out of the way and clambered to her feet.

‘Why don’t you just shut up—‘ she started, reaching beneath her coat.

She was interrupted by a vicious swing from the werewolf blindly threshing at her. He managed to brush off the silver shreds from his brow, his features constricted in a furious visage and his bleeding eyes seething with anger. He turned towards her...

...looking straight into the loaded barrel of Clemency’s second gun.

‘…and take it like a man.’

The shot echoed through the building with a metallic clang. The monster fell to its knees and then toppled sideways onto the old floorboards. By the time the dust settled, he was back in his human form — a gentleman in his thirties with a neatly trimmed beard. Clemency hunched over and reached into the pocket of his silk jacket from which she pulled out a golden watch. She opened its cover. There was an engraving on the inside that said, Good times ahead. -R.P. Braxton. With a sharp pull, she tore its chain and hid it in her own pocket.

She wondered what Algernon would say when she got back to his estate. This one got quite messy and he surely wouldn’t appreciate it. Weighing her options, she pondered if she should lie about how she put this monster down. What harm could there be in making her report a little bit more boring? Al liked boring almost as much as he liked things that were more than a hundred years old. She made a mental note, however, to remember to thank Sofia for the silver dust.

Before she went outside, she put the hood back on to conceal her hair. After all, a woman walking through the city all alone after dark was bound to attract attention and Clemency had had enough killing for one night.