(Sorry for the wait on the update. Word of warning: things get ugly…and worse.)
Allen Dragneel: Thanks.
Chapter 4: Madness Under the Moon
(Unknown location, a few days later)
The hobo slept on the makeshift bed, the dogs sleeping around him. But he was plagued by more strange dreams or visions.
The man with shaggy hair stood atop a castle wall, sword in hand. Men in dark armor with pale complexions fought great wolf-like beasts that towered over them as well as men who fought with makeshift weapons or also turned into wolfish beasts with shorter muzzles and less fur than those they fought alongside.
He glowered at the same pale man from before, clad in dark armor that put on a helmet that covered his face and flanked by two men with the armor that matched his. Unsheathing two swords he slashed at wolf and man while the shaggy man marched towards him. His eyes burned with hatred, zeroed in on the man in armor.
The wolfish beasts and the men battle the pale men all around him, slaughtering them as the growls, roars, howls, and screams fade as the shaggy man nears his target. One of the men in the same armor rushed ahead to meet the man, but was cut down. He cuts another pale man down and turns to face his target, but he's gone. He looked down, seeing an open hole with a metal plating that covered it having been removed. The man jumps down into the hole.
He woke up, gasping and grunting. His chest heaved slowly, snarling out his single exhales of breath. The clothes stuck to his upper body, slick with sweat.
The dogs woke up, whining as they looked at him. He slowed his breath, hands still shaking. The dogs moved up to him, whimpering. Each dog got a scratch on the head and a half smile. Then he fell back onto the bed as he gasped for breath.
He closed his eyes, trying to sleep. For hours, he tossed and turned. Teeth gritted as he grumbled. A couple of the dogs barked and yipped. The hobo sighed as he stood up, patting one of the dogs. The dogs laid down and fell asleep. As he sat down on the bed he placed his head into his hands. He looked outside, the moon half covered by clouds. His blue eyes widened a little. Slowly he crept out of the cabin, carefully shutting the door behind him. The dogs still slumbered.
The chill air passed around him. He inhaled deeply. The cool night air and the dark skies kept him calm. The forest was still. Hsi blue eyes looked through the darkness, seeing small woodland animals scurrying across the ground and climbing up and along the trees. Then something hit his nose. A low growl emerged from his throat. Prey. He could smell the boar. He and the dogs had scented him a few times. They'd gone after the boar more than once, but a deer had been easier prey as the dogs would chase after the animal that ran first. He didn't mind, the chase made feel alive.
Now the chase called to him again and he ran. He was like a blur, racing through the darkest shadows of the forest. Though it wasn't there, he could already taste the sweet savor of fresh blood in his mouth. Growling and grunting, he rushed through the woods. Then he stopped, hearing grunting and chewing. He crept downwind of the boar, eyes locked on the beast. The boar was twice the size of some of the dogs in his pack, the boar would feed his dogs for some time. As the boar finished rooting through the ground, he lunged forward.
The boar squealed as it tried to run off, but the hobo had his hand on the boar's throat within a heartbeat. The beast growled and screamed as the hobo's claws dug into its hide, drawing blood. Then within a second, he snapped the boar's neck.
He gasped.
Another vision overtook him. Seeing through another's eyes, the woman he had seen confront the great white wolf stood over a deer, pulling a dagger out of its throat. She looked up to the one whose eyes he was seeing through.
"Now beloved, we say a prayer to the beast and to the Gods for this gift."
The hobo said something in a language he'd heard the woman say, something in an old language. He stood up and raised his hands to his face, claws and hands bloody. Then the urge came and he licked the blood off his hands. A small growl emerged from his throat when the blood met his tongue. The hobo snarled as his eyes went to the boar, its hide slick with blood. Walking over, he picked up the boar with both hands then held one muscular arm over his shoulder.
He began walking back, free arm swaying. As he walked through the forest, the sound of the dogs waking up. He smiled a little. As he got closer to the house, the sounds of shouting and yelling rang out through the forest. His blue eyes center on trucks charging and stopping ahead of the cabin. Several men step and jump out of the trucks. The dogs barked inside the cabin, their claws scrapped against the walls of the cabin.
The men held guns of varying sizes in their hands, silver bullets being loaded into them.
"(We know what you are!)"
"(Come out freak!)"
Some aimed at the door, hearing the dogs growling and barking.
"(Where is it?)"
They heard rustling to the side. Their eyes widened at the sight of the hobo walking to the cabin, the boar over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed.
"(There he is!)"
The men aimed their guns and fired.
The hobo growled as his chest was peppered with bullets, sending falling onto his back. The dead boar landed beside him. The men grunted as they approached the fallen hobo, guns trained on him.
"(Is it dead?)"
"(Put clips of silver into 'em. He's dead. Call the others here, we killed it.)"
One of the men took out a phone and dialed a number and began talking into it.
Another man leaned down towards the hobo smirking.
"(Not so tough, are you?)"
The hobo opened his eyes, growling as he lunged at the man. His claws tore his face off one man then he broke the neck of the next he swiped at.
"(HELP!)"
The man on the phone screamed. More men ran forward, aiming their guns. One man was sent flying toward them, his neck broken at a horrific angle. More aimed their guns, firing off shots. But the hobo growled as he kept slashing with each shot that hit him.
Suddenly, the door to the cabin fell off and the dogs rushed forward. Several men were tackled by one or two dogs, their teeth cutting flesh and biting into bone.
The men screamed as the dogs growled and shook their heads violently, breaking bones and tearing flesh.
The hobo growled as he caught a man's throat with both hands and tossed them both through across the opening in the woods, sending them to either side of himself. He bellowed as he ran forward, claws slashing each man he raced past.
The dogs snarled as they continued to tear into the men they had tackled. Their heads shook left to right, scaring and tearing the men's flesh. The hobo turned as he saw a man point a gun at one of his dogs. He bellowed as he cleared the distance, tearing the man's arm out of his socket. The man cried out, eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. The hobo proceeded to beat the man with his arm, soon his face was just a bloody mess.
He snarled at the men, all four canines bared. Slinging the arm at another man, sending a man stumbling back. More of the mne hurried forward, firing without coordination.
"(Kill it! Kill it!)"
The hobo growled in rage and irritation, moving his arms in front of his face protectively. ATVs, small cars, jeeps, and motorbikes charged through the woods in the distance. Their motors and the voices of the men riding them filled the woods. He snarled as he charged at another man, his arm wrapping around a man's throat and broke at a hideous angle.
Men jumped off and out of the vehicles and ran forward, guns in hand.
"(Dogs! What?!)"
"(They're with the freak! Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em!)"
The hobo snarled as he tossed another man through the air, landing with a sickening crunch as he hit the ground. He turned, snarling at the men as they aimed their guns at the new men. The dogs barked and growled, hackles raised. The hobo turned and bellowed as he charged towards them. He backhanded one man, ripping the lower jaw off his face.
Another man screamed, firing his shotgun and sending the hobo to the ground as the slug hit. His head hit a rock on the ground. The dogs barked, racing forward. The men fired.
The hobo grunted as he stood up after a few moments, his head healing from where his head hit the rock. His eyes widened at seeing some of the dogs dead or dying on the ground. Some of the dogs limped off into the woods. He screamed as he stood up. One man rushed at him, only to see the hand with the gun in it torn off. He screamed as he watched the blood gush out. He cried and gasped, eyes wide. Then his neck was quickly broken.
Looking around, he didn't see any of the men in the immediate area. The hobo made his way through the woods, seeing more of the dogs dead on the ground. He heard the whimpering of one dog, hurrying over he saw the last of the men from the first group that attacked them standing over the dog. He screamed in anguish as he rushed forward. The men yelled as they aimed their guns. He snarled as he ripped them limb from limb before tossing them aside.
He looked down on the dog, kneeling down and sitting on the ground. He took the dog in his arms. The dog whimpered, looking up at him. Crying, he held his head against the dog's head. Even while whimpering, the dog licked his face while tears fell. He caught the scent of something familiar in the distance as he mounted, but he didn't care. His howl rang out through the forest.
The men from the second group looked up into the sky, eyes wide. The moon was now full, the clouds now having moved away. Her light bathed the dark ground, now revealing all the blood and body parts in even more horrid detail. The men's eyes widened, shuddering.
"(N-No.)"
The hobo sniffled, holding the dog. His hound's heart no longer beat and he whimpered as he laid the dog gently to the earth. He could hear the cursing of the men in the distance, he could smell the blood of his hounds on them. The light of the moon gently caressed him where he sat. His pupils shrank in size as the blue in his eyes shined like the moon's light.
The men stared at the carnage around them then looking in the direction their target had gone..
"(S-Should we go after it?)"
"(He killed our friends! Of course we do!)"
Some looked at the dead dogs.
"(Traitors.)"
One spit at one of the dogs.
"(Let's go get 'em.)"
"(But the moon's full! It's turned by now! Look what it did in human form!)"
"(It's hurt and alone. We can kill it.)"
They then heard growling behind them. Their eyes widened and sweat poured down their necks. The men looked at one another, hands shaking.
The lycans leapt from the woods, pouncing on the men. Their jaws clamped onto the men, tearing their heads from their bodies or crushing their heads into a bloody, meaty mess. Their claws took their heads and limbs off. Some of the men scrambled away, only for some to get away while others were killed as they tried to move away.
Gregor growled as he tore the throat out of a man who raised his shotgun and hit him in his shoulder with a shaking shot. He watched another of his friends lunging forward, crushing a man's head in his claws while one ripped a man's head off their body. His claws dug into his shoulder, pulling out the bullets. He growled in pain, the silver an all too familiar pain that his species suffered. The lycans looked around, seeing the dogs on the ground.
They grunted to one another, unsure what to think about the dogs. But the scent of the lycan was what caught their attention. This lycan smelled different. Despite all the blood, guts, and dog scents the strongest smell was that of the lycan. Marius was like this, but this scent was even stronger. They grunted and growled. Their ears perked up, hearing low growling and breathing coming closer.
The men who huddled against one another at the other side of the clearing, turned to one another.
"(W-What are they doing?)"
"(Who cares?! Shoot 'em! We won't get outta here if we don't!)"
The men grunted as they loaded their guns and aimed. The lycans' attention turned back to the men, snarling and preparing to lunge. Gregor and his friends bared their teeth, a heartbeat away from leaping forward to tear out throats. But they stopped when they saw a hulking figure appear behind the humans. Their ears perked up and their snarling stopped. The humans pulled back their guns for a moment, looking at one another scratching their heads.
Then they heard deep, growling breaths above them. Their eyes widened and they looked up, heads shaking. What they saw made them scream, only for them to be cut short by huge jaws and claws.
The lycans watched as the humans weren't torn to pieces, the wild shots from the silver sometimes peppering the figure but not stopping it in its wrath. They turned to one another grunting and huffing before turning back to the figure. The rest of the humans laid dead, no longer recognizable just heaps of torn flesh and shattered bones. The figure turned to look at the lycans and they looked at him.
Gregor's eyes as he slowly grunted loudly. The figure's ears perked up before it eventually grunted back. Gregor turned back to his friends, their eyes wide as well. The figure looked down at the dogs, lifeless on the ground before raising its head and howling in sorrow.
To be continued…
(Sorry for the late update…and yeah…had a hard time writing this…I really, really didn't want to write this…but I felt I had to…damn it.)