“I have to wonder, are there any werewolves here that are actually worth fighting?” a condescending voice rose over the soft thunder of the lava eruptions, whose contents now flooded the streets.

“Put that piece of crap down and find out, chicken shit,” Mr. Davis spat.

“Oh,” said the voice mirthfully. “I think we may have found one with a little backbone.” There was a clattering of metal on the obsidian, the sound of a long rifle being dropped. “Alright, it’s safe to come out of hiding, unless you’re too much of a coward to even try to defend your dying home.”

Mr. Davis raised his head for just a moment. He saw that the rifle was indeed nowhere to be found. He ducked down again. Shifting his body, he glanced back behind him. There was no one behind him. Slowly he raised himself up and stared down the vampire a few buildings away.

“You are a big one, aren’t you,” mocked the vampire as he strode toward to the edge of his current rooftop. “Are you what they call an Enforcer?” he asked with a smile.

Mr. Davis flexed his muscles feeling the tightness and feeding adrenaline into his bloodstream. “Yes,” he replied calmly.

“At least this’ll be a challenge,” the vampire said as he jumped to the next building and charged at the werewolf. Mr. Davis answered by charging at the vampire. He launched himself over a lava filled street and crashed into the vampire in midair. The two clashed and ripped into each other even before falling back down to the center of the empty rooftop of a building in a dying city surrounded by red death.

The vampire was quick and agile while Mr. Davis was all power. The two danced around each other for what seemed like hours. Mr. Davis countering punches and kicks with attacks of his own. His claws seemed to be moving on their own. The vampire was good. Every time Mr. Davis seemed to get an edge on the smaller vampire he would melt away and regroup.

Mr. Davis knew something was wrong. No vampire, and he had fought some who boasted of being hundreds of years old, had been able to go toe to toe with him for longer than a few minutes. This guy, whoever he was, was something else.

Mr. Davis kept pumping more and more adrenaline into his body. He had never gone so far as he did now. He felt like a god. He could go on like this forever. Eventually the vampire would need to feed and then he would crush him. Vampire’s stamina only lasted so long.

He thought of Tyche, her gentle attitude belied the fact that she was a fighter in heart, body, and soul. She had no problem ripping a vampire’s throat out. Then she would stop and give her strength to a failing rose garden somewhere.

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As he fought the being who claimed to be a vampire, he couldn’t help but think of Hermes, whose speed was always something to marvel at. He took to running more than a fish took to water. He didn’t just run; he glided over the earth. He always took the lead and paced the rest of the pack.

The vampire did a perfect back kick and caught Mr. Davis in the jaw. Mr. Davis didn’t step back though. He pressed forward and punched the vampire in the gut as he came back around from his kick. The vampire grunted and skidded back a few feet.

Mr. Davis pressed forward and pushed more adrenaline and endorphins into his body. He didn’t feel pain, even though the vampire was landing the occasional punch or kick a little more often now.

He was doing this for Thoosa. The idea of what she had become was always a little alien to her. She had never wanted to manipulate anyone. It had only taken her to witness what vampires did to people. She saw the aftermath of a Dukartian domination once. The act of the thing that had destroyed the person’s free will was terrifying to her. She never wanted that to happen to anyone else. She trained harder than any of them to hone her abilities and to make sure that she used them for the good of her pack and for the City Under the Mountain. More than all the rest of the pack, she believed that what they were doing was just and right. Her abilities granted to her by the Lunar Mother were a ‘curse of responsibility’ she had said.

Mr. Davis pressed forward, always forward, harder, and unrelenting at the vampire who fought him. The vampire was faster than he was, but he had power and stamina over any vampire.

He grabbed at and caught the vampire’s ill-timed punch and held the fist in his claws. “Who are you?” Mr. Davis sneered.

The vampire struggled against the iron grip. He smiled anyway and replied, “I’m Brian, nice to meet you, friend. And you are?”

“I’m the one who’s going to kill you,” Mr. Davis said. He simultaneously ripped Brian toward him and head butted him. The parasite struggled back against the crushing blow.

Brian shook his head and threw himself backwards. The maneuver didn’t free his hands from Mr. Davis’s grip, but it did allow him to land a perfect flash kick at the werewolf’s jaw. Mr. Davis’s grip loosened and Brian was able to dance away once again.

Brian gave the werewolf a half smile. “As a wise man once said, get used to disappointment.”

Suddenly fire erupted inside Mr. Davis’s gut. He looked down as his claw touched his stomach and came away bloody. He felt more gun shots rip through him as he struggled toward the smiling vampire.

His eye sight wavered, and everything became fuzzy. He was lightheaded. He tried to force endorphins into his body, to heal himself. At least take the pain away. He had to kill this one. He took another step toward Brian.

A few more bullets ripped through him. One caught his lung. He couldn’t catch his breath, no matter how hard he gasped. His vision blurred again and his head was so light he could barely stay awake. He had to kill this one. Just this one. He forced himself to take another step.

More bullets ripped into him. One took out his leg and he was falling. He felt the impact of obsidian with his shoulder, but it was a faraway sensation, like it was happening in a dream. He couldn’t really hear anything. All he could see was darkness and the only smell was rancid death mixed with smoke.

A human face hovered into his field of vision. It wasn’t human, he realized. His mind was so sluggish. He had a hard time remembering who this man was, smiling down on him like that. His brain fired a few neurons and he knew this was Brian and he struggled to force his arms to obey his command to crush the life from his throat.