Their Return-Ch 1

Location: London, England

12:15 am; Wednesday, September 9th

Mr. Shaulze was taking his normal route home after closing his shop and doing his normal chores needed for the start of the next day.

It was cool yet warm; perfect weather for his walk home. As he walked on, his mind drifted to thoughts of his wife and daughter at home, and who would be asleep be now; and of how well his shop had done in business that day.

Tap, tap; tap, tap; tap, tap; tap, tap…

Tap, tap, tap, tap… Shaulze stopped. He looked around for the source of the tapping, for it wasn't coming from him. It sounded like clawed paws clattering on the stone under his feet. He could compare the noises due to his old terrier mix, Tessie, who did that. Disregarding the sound, as a figment of his imagination, he walked on.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, scrrrraape!

Shaulze halted and looked around again. This time thinking hard at what the scrapping sound could have been, or what could have made it. He turned to leave…..Pat, tap, tap, Scrape! This sound was closer and much louder.

Allowing fear to swallow him whole, Shaulze bolted. He turned a corner then another; running down the endless maze of corners and streets. Finally he took a street that would lead him to a main road, where he froze with fear. There down the street, crouched, not ten yards away, was a very large, hairy, pearl white monster. Its back was to him, but at hearing the noise of Shaulzes' footsteps, turned, still crouched, to face him.

Shaulze could make out the monsters bold outline by the light shinning from the street lamps. He could see two thick, powerful, three jointed, legs. Strong, masculine arms, the circumferences of an average car tire, and hand the size of trashcan lids. Each finger ending in four and a half inch, gleaming black, claws. Broad shoulders, a thick, masculine neck, with black fur spreading from the tip of the creatures chin, to a point, at its collarbone. Its large, mouth with yellowing, razor sharp, teeth; dripping strings of warm drool to the pavement. Its eyes; its cold cruel, dark eyes, black as onyx, and shinning with a cruel, merciless hunger, through the night.

It stared at Shaulze, he stared back, afraid to move. He tried to run but his feet refused to leave the ground. Sweat was rolling down his face. His breath caught, suddenly, in his chest. The creature had started a rumbling, growling, scratchy, hissing, gurgle.

Realizing what the noise was Shaulze ran, back the way he had come.

Laughing! That thing was laughing! He thought terrified, hurtling down the empty streets.

He turned corners, and ran down streets without the faintest idea on what to do; then he turned into a dead end full of people, there had to be at least twenty-four of them, all men and women who looked about in their early twenties. He stopped, panting like a winded bloodhound.

"You all right sir" asked a man with sleek, raven black hair and cold eyes, stepping towards him.

"Y,yes. You had better get out of here. There's a monster…… I just ran into it…….it," he stopped. For the youths were looking behind hi; all had a smirk of maddened glee etched on their faces.

"Grrrrrrrrrr…" a low, deep, rumbling growl erupted behind him. Terrified, he turned around to face the giant wolf. He was mid waste high to it. Trembling uncontrollably he looked up into the creatures merciless, cruel eyes; opened his mouth and screamed.

All Shualze could hear was his terrified scream and the frantic beating of his own heart. Not even the order that was given from the man, with the sleek black hair, to the monster before him, could he hear.

The wolf swooped down, clamping its jaws tightly over Shaulzes' neck. It was over in an instant. Quick and painless.

Ripping away from Shaulzes' now lifeless body, it raised its head and howled. A deep, deathly howl that range throughout London.

After the wolfs' announcement it dropped the carcass to the floor where the other men approached and began to feed. Licking his paws clean of Shaulze blood he approached the man with the sleek black hair.

"The cops should recognize our marks, shouldn't they Sly," it asked conversationally to him, in a rough, deep, scratchy, very masculine voice. Towering over him, it looked down at him with curiosity, but remained silent, waiting for Sly to answer.

"Yes. They should remember them. For it hasn't been that long since we departed. But with this death they'll know that we have returned. And that we mean………..," he broke off looking at the pale corpse. He turned and walked towards the women that were waiting to be fed.

The wolf walked the other way towards the men, who left the carcass immediately. Reaching to body it lowered its head and began to gorge on the sweets of his spoils.

If they realize that we're back them he should realize it as well. Sly meditated, looking around at the women, who were now feeding from their mates.