"I hope I give you the shits, you fucking wimp!" Spoon spat his chewing gum in the face of the Werewolf holding him up.
As the two Werewolves surrounded Spoon ready to tear him apart a flash grenade shot through the broken window and exploded, the Werewolf holding Spoon dropped him and they threw their heads around, vision blurred and ears ringing, Spoon covered his eyes as he hit the floor. Following the grenade a man jumped in with the sword that Coop had impaled Ryan with.
The man looked round seeing Spoon on the floor unharmed, but covered in blood and the Werewolves surrounding him, the man swung the sword and began to fight the Werewolves. Spoon removed his hands from his eyes and watched as the man cut and stabbed the Werewolves, as one of the Werewolves knocked the sword from the man's hand, he pulled a handgun out of his jacket and aimed, shooting one point blank in the head, it dropped to its knees and then to the floor, it was as simple for the second Werewolf.
The man looked over the two dead Werewolves lying at his feet, smoking drifted out from the bullet holes within the Werewolves, the man then turned to the Border Collie sitting tired up in the corner. He tilted his head and plodded over to the dog, he crouched down and stroked the dog's head.
"Who you?" Spoon asked shaking as the adrenalin rushed through his body.
The man turned his head to Spoon, and placed his one finger over his lips, "Shhhh."
Suddenly through the sealing came a pile of bones, followed by Cooper who hit the table and rolled off, he was then followed by Sarge. Once they had both gotten to their feet they turned and stared at the man crouching next to Sam.
"Who are you?" Cooper asked, now suspicious of everyone.
The man exhaled and got to his feet, "If I was you, I'd get below." He calmly suggested.
"Below?" Cooper said confused, before the man could answer Sarge ground his teeth and held his stomach, groaning and yelling. "Sarge?"
"He's not going to hold out much longer. Get below." The man ordered.
"I don't take orders from you." Cooper snapped.
"If you want to live, then you'll do as I tell you Privet." The man held his ground, not even flinching at Cooper trying to over throw him.
Cooper glared at the man, unsure of him as Megan had turned out to be a lair and a Werewolf. Cooper didn't want to take a chance, but the man was right, Sarge didn't have long.
"Coop." Spoon rose to his feet and ran to Sarge as he began to drop to his knees.
Cooper looked over the man and turned to Sarge. Spoon helped Sarge up, but Sarge pushed him away. The man pushed the table out of the way and pulled the carpet up, revealing the door to the basement.
"You two, down there." The man ordered to Spoon and Cooper.
"And what about Sarge, we're not leaving him." Spoon asked.
"Well if you want him to tear you apart, then by all means he can go down with you. But you might want to hurry." The man answered.
"So where are you going to take him?" Cooper questioned.
"He'll be safe don't worry, but you need to go now." The man ordered as Sarge collapsed by the oven.
Spoon jumped down into the basement followed by Sam the dog, "Coop." He called up for him.
Cooper looked over the man and then to Sarge his eyes turning yellow. He climbed down and looked up to the man as he closed the basement door. The man looked to Sarge, he grabbed his arm and slung it over his shoulder, the man helped Sarge over to the window, and sat him on the ledge.
"Run out to the woods, by morning you'll be yourself again, I'll deal with the Wolves." The man told Sarge.
Grounding his teeth, his eyes becoming more ember, Sarge nodded, and grabbed a tight grip upon the mans upper left arm. "Thank you..." His voice becoming rougher.
"Cutter, Christopher Cutter." The man half smiled.
Sarge pushed himself off the ledge and began to stumble off towards the woods surrounding the house, as he did Chris put out the cooker fire, ripped the cover off the oven and yanked out the gas tube, Chris grabbed a knife and cut the tube allowing the gas to pour out. As the remaining Werewolves moved into the kitchen blocking Chris' exit, he dipped his hand into his pocket. Chris knew there was no escape, he wasn't getting out of this one alive, he'd escaped death more than fifty times, but he wasn't going home this time round.
"Hey boys," Chris grinned, and pulled out a fag and a lighter, "Jen always said smoking would kill me. You don't mind do you?" He nodded, they moved in closer and he flipped open the lighter, as the flame lit so did the house.