Chapter 13

Fire consumed the lot around them. The manor that Ettie had given countless hours was burning to the ground. It was as if all of her work was being undone.

This didn't matter, however. Fredricx had ventured out on the night of a Hunt. He had followed a Hunter into crumbling Old Yharham. He had braved flames and fought beasts as a mere human. He had found Ettie, who was by all accounts, well. Now, they were surrounded by flames. This was all for not.

"Fredricx," Ettie whimpered, "I'm scared." Her nails dug into his forearm. He could feel her fear create 10 fingernail sized gashes.

"We'll be okay," Fredricx attempted to soothe. The feeling of nausea recovered his body. His head spun, "Come on."

They started cautiously toward the gate. Maybe, they could just get to the street. However, the toppled gate was literally a dead end as one of the buildings had collapsed. The blaze was bright, casting light in all directions. This only revealed more ruin and flame.

Fredricx felt as if he was dragging Ettie behind him. Her fear made her heels sticky to the ground. They rounded the corner of the estate. Unfortunately, they confronted a brick fence. Fredricx could feel the queasiness growing in his bowels. A bolus rose up in his throat and threatened to be involuntary ejected. He let out a shaky breath, which was then followed by deep cough. The smoke was a hand around the throat.

"I'm going to lift you up the fence. See what you can." He holstered the pistol and draped the silver links over the wall. It would be easier to access.

Fredricx made a cup with his hands, Ettie stepped up, and he pushed her up until she could pull herself forward with her arms. His biceps shook as he continued to cough. Ettie seemed like a heavyweight against his arms. How could this be so?

"What do you see?" he grunted, shoulder grinding into the bricks. The Hunter's overcoat was saving him from nasty bruises.

"There's a beast. The fire isn't as nasty here. I think the fence is keeping it at bay," Ettie spit out quickly.

Fredricx, without warning, hoisted her up. She scooted off and dropped to the other side. It was now Fredricx's turn. His brain rattled around in his skull, making the wall quiver. Taking a couple of steps back, he sprinted and jumped. His fingers grasped the edges. It was sharp, but not as sharp as the flames would be hot. He yanked himself over the edge into a sitting position, surveying the scape.

The brick fence had stopped the spreading of the fire from the ground. However, looming trees and falling debris had sprouted small flames that grew faster than weeds. This was far safer aside from the darkness. Ettie said there was a beast. Fredricx couldn't see it.

He snatched up the whip into his hands, being sure to hold the last link, before plunging off the wall. The descent ascended his stomach. Nausea ensued upon landing.

"Stay close to me, Ettie," he commanded.

She responded by falling in line with him. They sulked along the far wall. Fredricx had reloaded the pistol, pulling out the last of the blood imbued bullets given to him by Adullam.

"Do you see the beast?"

"No," her voice was small, "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. We need to get back to Lucas. He isn't doing well."

The fire was beginning to light up the space. They were in a back garden. Ornate topiaries were being resculpted by flame. The water pool in the middle did nothing to subdue its enemy. Across the yard, Fredricx caught sight of his, the beast.

This creature was nothing short of a fairy tale. It was the biggest wolf with far bigger fangs. It was shaped strangely, its back legs unproportionally larger and longer than its front ones.

Just as Fredricx saw it, it saw them.

"Run."

They did.

XXXX

The werewolf pursued them, taking great strides with its long limbs. Fredricx and Ettie were as quick as a three-wheeled carriage in comparison. This, luckily, was bettered by the growing nausea. The mass came up and stayed suspended in his throat. Breathing became heaving. His jaw quivered, and excessive sweat was forming on his face and neck. They neared the corner of the far wall. The beast neared them. Attempting to choke out directions to Ettie, he shook to no avail.

Spasticity, he dropped the weapons and jerked up Ettie by the waist. She scrambled up and over the second wall, leaving Fredricx and the beast on the other side.

Fredricx dropped to the ground, scrounging on hands and knees for either the pistol or whip. He couldn't be quick enough as the creature was a meter, a lunge, away.

His fist wrapped around something sharp, the wrong side of the shards. This dug into his palm, but this was to be the least of his injuries if the beast got to him.

With the shard lounged in his hand, he gripped it tighter still and cracked the metal as hard as he could in the direction of the beast. The handle and shards connected, causing it to roar and thankfully, leap backwards.

Ettie was calling for him, but the nausea was preventing him from assuring her. In reality, he was the one who needed the reassurance.

He could feel the warm red sweating from between the cut skin and the end of the whip. The beads fell like a sprinkle of rain onto the ground. He made up the distance between himself and the werewolf beast and swung the whip again. The handle crashed into its torso, shards lodging themselves deep. He pulled, but it remained frozen into place. Neither party was pleased with this predicament.

Fredricx released the shard from his hand and was back to scrounging for the pistol. Its one bullet was better than his fists. His heartbeat was between his ears. Where was this weapon?

Thankfully, it was found before he could be malled. The cold metal was a heavenly feel. He steadied it in his hands, pulling back the hammer with a raw thumb. He took a breath and waited for the beast to advance. Of course, it did.

The distance was incredibly small already, but it wasn't close enough. Fredricx was looking for a less than a moment's window of opportunity. Anything outside this moment, he would die, but Ettie was safe. That is what mattered.

The beast lunged at him, claws and jaws open and extended. Its teeth were yellowed. The smell from the matted fur was horrendous, egging on the nausea.

A set of claws collided with with his shoulder. This was the moment. Boom. Fredricx pulled the trigger. The barrel of the gun was hard pressed into the cranium of the werewolf.

The beast came crashing down, pinning Fredricx to the ground. His skull made hard impact. Everything went black for a moment.

When his eyes flew open, he could no longer suppress the nausea. Vomit spewed from deep inside his body. The sweating intensified greatly, soaking his beard and hair. Pressed against the ground and the werewolf, he must have been the one on fire. The vomiting became coughing. The coughing became choking, aspirating on his injury.

Ettie was screaming. The ear ringing blocked out her specific words, but she was screaming.

He flailed his arms underneath the beast, attempting to get traction to sit up. If he could just sit up a little, then the content could be coughed out of his lungs. His dress shoes scraped the ground, legs desiring to throw off the beast. He was radically unsuccessful.

Vision growing dark, Fredricx gave one last attempt to dislodge the creature. Mustering up the leftover strength, which was strapped by the lack of oxygen, he rocked his body, pushing his limbs in one direction against the creature. It moved ever so slightly.

However, this was just enough for Fredricx to use his elbows to lift and turn his head. The contents expelled up and out of his mouth. The coughing continued for a few more seconds, heaving microparticles.

His head fell backwards, smacking the ground again. This time, he could breath. This was the sweetest breath he had ever taken. Oxygen swelled, expanding his lungs.

"Queen's grace," he sighed to himself, "Sweet queen's grace."

"Fredricx," Ettie was screaming, "Fredricx!"

"I'm alive," he wheezed. It wasn't very loud. He laid there, underneath the creature. The smell was enough to choke a man, but not Fredricx at this moment. He just inhaled and exhaled. After too many moments, he heaved, casting the beast aside a little more. Now, Fredricx was able worm his way out, scooting inches until he was free.

Standing, he surveyed the scene. The fire raged, encroaching the garden. The pistol was gone, but the whip was still available. He reached for the handle using his uninjured hand. It came free from the beast. He was free from the beast. He was free.

Author Note: Second chapter in one week! It's a record for me. Think of it as an apology for not updating previously for so long. Thank you for reviewing, Grocamol and VexEchoUmbra. You two are awesome. :)