A/N: A few things: 1) Sorry it has taken so long to post anything. For the first time since I started writing this, I have come upon some writers block. I have typed and deleted many variations of this chapter because I didn't like the way it was going.

2) This chapter is shorter than my others, really only one scene. I usually write 3-4 scenes per chapter, but I am halfway through the next and I refuse to allow an entire month pass before I update. And I wont be able to work on this for the next week and a half since finals. Real life problems.

3) A huge shout out to Bosstwin, the awesome dude who offered to make me this cover art and hit it out of the park. In my opinion, it's badass, but obviously I am biased. Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. Enjoy!

Chapter 14

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'What!?'

John sat up suddenly, gripping the side of the wooden boat he was laying down in as he wiped away the cold sweat on his head. For a moment, horrible memories flooded through his mind as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. Fragmented scenes of drowning, of starving, of being mercilessly tortured by...something, and finally being blown to pieces. Vaguely remembering that last bit, John looked down at his chest and exhaled in relief when he found that there was no hole in his chest. In fact, he was completely clean and unharmed, wearing his usual summer weather gear: tan cargo shorts and a plaid shirt with hiking boots.

'What a weird dream…' he thought to himself as he looked around. His eyes were greeted by a familiar landscape, one that held many pleasant memories. John smiled. He was floating on the pond that his dad had taken him to many times before for fishing during the summer. In fact, John just now noticed that there was a fishing rod held between his legs with the line already cast out into the pond, the bob floating peacefully on the surface sending out tiny ripples. Some twinkling of light caught his attention, and looking up he could see the sunlight flickering between the drooping vines of the willow tree that was hanging over the boat, providing shade while speckling the water with rays of sunlight.

'Must have fallen asleep, but what was that dream?' John asked himself while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was a nagging sensation at the back of his mind, telling him he was missing something, that something wasn't right, but he chocked it up to his own fried nerves after having such an intense nightmare.

"You ok over there, punk?" John heard a lazy voice from behind. Spinning around, he did a double take.

"Dad?" John croaked.

His dad was sitting there on the other end of the rowboat, wearing his trademark yellow stained wife-beater one size too small, with his belly hanging out. He was reclining on a white folding chair with his hairy legs propped up on the cooler he had brought with him. In one hand he was holding a beer while in the other he was holding his own fishing rod, line already cast. Gracing the top of his head, a frayed straw hat was titled forward at an angle to keep the light out of his eyes, and John stared as his dad slowly took a swig from the bottle before readjusting himself to get more comfortable.

John snorted. 'He looks like such a bum' John thought as he smiled in humor, but then frowned again. He once more felt that something was off, everything seemed too…normal. They had done the same thing every summer, and John was already used to his dad looking like such a slob, but that was part of his personality, something that John had naturally grown fond of over the years.

"What's the matter boy?" John suddenly heard his dad speak, the conflict on John's face not going unnoticed.

John shook his head, turning back around to stare at the bob from his fishing line floating in the water. "Nothing, just had a weird dream" John replied casually as he shrugged.

"Hmmm" was his dad's bored reply.

John sat there, enjoying the warm breeze as it blew across the pond, creating tiny waves which just barely reached the sandy bank. All around them, they were surrounded by overgrown fields of grass swaying in the breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, John observed as a turtle crawled its way out of the water and onto a fallen log resting against the shore to sun itself. Yeah…this place was just how he remembered it. Slowly, as the boat gently swayed in the water and the tranquil atmosphere worked its magic, the feeling of anxiety, that something was "off", began to fade, and John began to really relax whilst enjoying the serenity of nature.

'This is…nice' John smiled fondly as he laid back down in the boat, arms behind his head and eyes closed. There weren't many times he could remember feeling so at peace, and this place always succeeded in making him calm. Time seem to slow to a crawl.

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"Hey, dad?" John spoke up softly, still laying on his back.

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"What is it, boy?" his dad responded, almost sounding annoyed that John broke the peaceful silence.

"What…what should I do with my life? I mean, I have some ideas, but I just don't know for sure. What did you do when you were at my age?"

There was a pregnant pause as the warm breeze blew by.

"Hmm…well, that's a tough one" his dad began as he scratched the stubble on his chin. "Just do whatever you want. Not much else to tell you there. As for me, well, let's just say I did once have plans, but then some, uh, …fortunate accidents happened, and well… those got put on hold" he finished while scratching his head.

"Is that your way of saying you knocked up mom too early?" John quipped humorously.

Slapping his knee, John's dad let out a high pitched laugh which grated on John's ears. "That's about right, yeah!" his dad bellowed loudly in between bouts of laughter.

John smiled. That was such a typical response, one he should have expected from his him, but was appreciated nonetheless.

'Just do whatever I want, huh?' John hummed to himself. Before his dad could doze off again, John asked another question

"Well pops, what would you do if you were me?

"If I were you?" he replied questioningly.

"Yeah, well, if you were like me" John said as he unsheathed his claws and held them up for emphasis. John wasn't expecting what he heard next.

"Well… I would go into boxing. I mean with your build, and that bullshit healing power or however your mother explained it, you would easily become a champion, if you didn't use those, obviously. But hey, that's just me"

John burst out laughing, imagining his pudgy dad as a boxer. It was just too funny.

"Hey, I can still take you down, you punk!" his dad countered indignantly.

"Pffft, yeah, whatever dad" John snorted, completely unfazed by the empty threat. It had become a ritual between them, his dad always saying he could beat him in a fight while John would retort.

John resumed his relaxing, hoping to possibly drift into a peaceful nap, but something stopped him. For some reason, the nagging feeling came back, only this time, it was much stronger. Something was wrong, and John knew it. He sat up, staring at the water trying to piece together whatever was plaguing his mind. Fragmented memories put themselves back together.

John looked at the sunset, past the fields of grass, and he saw something that gave him goosebumps. There was a large, black, tear in the sky stretching across the entire horizon, and it seemed to be widening. He felt a sudden sensation that the world was falling apart. The bad premonition in his chest worsened.

'That can't be right…' he thought as he watched the tear in reality widen more and more.

Feeling a hand placed on his shoulder, John turned around to see his dad staring him in the eyes with an uncharacteristically serious face.

He spoke solemnly, "Just remember son, we love you, regardless of what you choose…"

John was at a loss for words. "Uhhhh…"

John felt a sudden a tug at his legs, and turning around, he discovered that there was a nibble on the end of the line. Feeling there was nothing else he could do, he grabbed the line and tried to reel in the catch. The line didn't budge however, and instead a great force yanked the pole from his hands and dragged it under the water.

Everything happened so fast. All of the sudden, clouds formed in the sky and blocked out the sun, changing the sky from a welcoming blue to an ominous grey. The wind picked up to unsafe levels, causing actual waves to form on the surface of the pond and the willow hanging above to shake vigorously. John had to steady himself on the boat as it began to rock. There was a flash of lightning, and John turned around to check on his dad, only to see that the man he was talking to only seconds ago was gone.

'What the hell…?' John thought in a confusion. The uneasy feeling continuously grew larger, filling his chest to the brim with anxiety. The weather could not have possibly changed this fast, and where the hell did his dad go? Nothing made sense.

Sliding onto wooden boat seat, John grabbed the oars sitting at the bottom and began to row back to shore as more and more lightning flashed, their explosive echoes resounding across the pond all around him. He almost made it to the muddy bank, but then he noticed something that frightened him. The boat was beginning to flow back towards the middle of the pond, despite his efforts. Looking at the center, he was horrified to see a giant whirlpool forming.

"Oh no no No No NO!" John yelled as he tried to increase his rate of rowing, which did nothing as the whirlpool pulled him in. Dragged closer and closer to the horrifying cyclone of death, which was now roaring loudly, John futilely watched as he came upon the brink. Before the boat tipped and was sucked down, John desperately jumped into the water and tried swimming away before the boat got caught in the vortex, but he only managed to buy himself a couple of seconds before he too was sucked in.

John lost the ability to breathe as he was pulled under and sucked down into the darkness, the light of the surface getting further and further away, and unbridled terror seized his very being. Slowly losing consciousness, the last thought that passed through his mind was of his dad.

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John's eyes snapped open, and he reflexively tried to inhale, only to find that his lungs where already filled.

"PHUAHAHAHAHA" John violently coughed, spitting out globs of red fluid onto the carpet as he drained said fluid from his lungs. On his last violent cough, he felt three solid objects sitting in his mouth which he promptly spat out onto the floor. Turning his head, he saw that they were metal pellets from the shotgun blast he took to the chest earlier.

'That felt so real…' John thought in a daze while remembering the pleasant dream he just had while a feeling of nostalgia and longing flowed through him. Right now, he wished for nothing more than to return to it. It brought back pleasant memories of home, and the painful knowledge that he had been away for so long.

John caught his breath as the last of the fluid trapped in his lungs was expelled with a final loud wheeze, and as he focused his vision, he finally took notice of the surrounding commotion, and of the large form that was looming over him.

John's whole body tensed up as he looked up at the massive tiger. Suddenly, all the memories of what had happened resurfaced at once, and John's eyes opened wide as he realized the danger he was in. Reacting on instinct, John tried to sit up and get away, but found that his body didn't even budge. The unnatural explosive strength and energy he had used to get to this far had run its course like adrenaline, and now his body was paying the price.

Oh yeah, and there was still the hole in chest to consider, the feeble attempts to move reminding John of that particular tidbit in all of the worst ways. Excruciating pain shot throughout his body like molten lava, and John could not suppress the whimper/whine that escaped from his mouth. Everything hurt, incomprehensibly bad.

In no position to move let alone fight back, John could only focus on the figure that he assumed was another one of the she-wolf's minions here to finish the job. The tiger was big, bigger than most of the tigers he had dealt with earlier. Unlike the others though, she wasn't wearing a suit…

'Wait a minute…' John realized something and he struggled to ignore the pain. The tiger standing over him was wearing some kind of blue uniform with a utility belt. Examining her tan and black furred face as he breathed sharply, John was surprised to see her expression, one of shock and horror, as if she was staring at a ghost.

And then the tiger screamed, her loud feminine voice hurting John's ears.

"CHIEF!"

A/N: Any typos or any major grammatical mistakes, let me know.