The rain continued to fall, soon overflowing the ground with two inches of water and clouds of mud. A haunting shriek was sent through the air and was quickly met with screams of agony as a gopher was ripped to shreds. The commotion attracted Zuma's attention, and he poked his brown muzzle outside his kennel. His body was shaking, he had just spent solid minutes pressed against the back wall of his den when the creature had emerged and began walking. Sticking his nose out in the rain, he fearfully caught sight of Feroxmalis catching a small rodent and eviscerating it. With the predator distracted, Zuma spotted Rocky sprinting back into his kennel.

For a moment, the Lab felt a flicker of solace knowing his friend was safe, only for it to die away once he realized the inconsistency of that statement. What was truly safe? How long until the monster realized to squat down and peer into the kennels? The doors were merely sheet metal or wood, they wouldn't stand a chance to the creature's might. With shaking breath, he took a glance at Marshall's kennel. The door was wide open, sending a shockwave of alarm through the Lab. All it took was one passing glance inside, and Marshall would meet the creature's teeth and claws.

He had to move. Watching Feroxmalis grip each individual bone in the rodent and pull it out was a grizzly scene, but he needed to watch its movements to know if the coast was clear. After taking a deep breath in a feeble effort to calm himself, he took a step outside, further exposing himself in the open. Wanting to make haste, yet suppress as much noise as possible, he left the limited safety of the kennel and trekked to Marshall's place. Careful not to scare the frail dog, Zuma stuck his head in first, scanning the interior of the firefighter's den until he spotted a tail sticking out from under a bed.

"Marshall," he tried to call out, looking around before creeping inside, "are you okay?"

No response. Zuma knew he was scared, just as was, but this was no time to panic. As much as he wanted to crawl into a cabinet and hide until the sun returned, he had to help his friends. He didn't trust Chase to take the lead, not in a time like this, and he was already suspecting the Shepherd had some skeletons in the closet.

"Marshall," he repeated, coming closer, "it's me, Zuma," he tried not to yell, keeping his voice low, despite having no idea how efficient the monster's hearing was, "come on, please, stay with me,"

The tail quickly retracted into the bed, and the dog underneath shuffled around. Zuma took another worried look outside as Marshall stuck out his head, so terrified one would think his spots would fall off, "Zuma," he quivered, "is that you?"

"Of course," the Lab turned around, " who else?"

"Chase said that thing can hide inside others,"

"I don't think Chase is a reliable source at the moment," Zuma narrowed his eyes, glancing in the direction of Rocky's kennel where the other dogs were hiding, "but I am, you can talk to me."

Marshall was about to say something when a sound met his ears. Zuma heard it as well, a low, layered growl of dozens of voices at once. It was nearby and picked the tiny skeleton into a mess of puzzle pieces for scavenging buzzards. Now its attention was elsewhere, roving the clearing for dogs foolish enough to stray in its path. Zuma couldn't see where it had gone, and he didn't dare leave Marshall's kennel for a better view. He made an attempt to sniff for it, but his sense of smell was blocked by the unending dew the rain carried down.

"We're not safe," Zuma concluded, he didn't dare let Marshall in on the fact that they were likely not safe anywhere to begin with.

A few kennels down, Chase was trying to calm Rocky back into his senses. The mixed breed was not only drenched in his biggest phobia but had also witnessed the merciless nature of the creature. His heart ached for his friend's distress, yet he felt slight frustration at Rocky's inattentive state. After quickly drying him off, Chase looked down at the cowering mix.

"Rocky, come on," the Shepherd growled, "get a hold of yourself!"

An echoing roar sounded from across the clearing, putting Chase on alert as he snapped his attention outside. Flicking his eyes around, he only saw the night-shrouded outside and the continuous falling of rain.

"Rocky," he said again, turning his ears around to try and tune himself to the direction of the noise. His voice was quickly rising, as severity and dread filled his mind, "Rocky come on... I need you here and now..." he instinctively backed away from the entrance, retreating into the den. He still heard no reply from his friend, the grey dog was still hunched over on his bed, shaking like a child hiding from their horrid family. Impatient, he turned and grabbed Rocky by the shoulders, "Rocky!" he snapped as quietly as possible, giving the mix a single, violent shake.

The mix blinked at the sudden motion, meeting Chase's gaze with quickened breaths.

"You there?" Chase raised an eyebrow, "you alive?"

Rocky quickly snapped back to reality, shaking his head and reaching a paw forward to push Chase off him, "I'm here, I'm here,"

"Don't zone out on me!"

"Hey, next time, you're going out there to witness the most horrible thing in your life," Rocky growled back, "you expect me to be calm with that thing on the prowl?"

"Just tell me how to fix the breakers!"

The mix sighed and grimaced for a moment, "It... it smashed the box in. About half of the breakers are damaged, I can fix it but I'll need time and a special tool."

"What kind of tool?"

"A Dielectric Driver. You can't replace breakers without this thing. You need it to hold the connectors open while you insert the new ones," the mix explained, "and given the damage, it's highly likely there's broken wires behind there, meaning I'd get electrocuted if I used anything standard,"

"It's made out of non-conductive material?" Chase tilted his head, "that's handy-"

Both dogs stopped as sounds emitted from outside. The taps and scratches of plastic were clearly audible, as well as the echoing pounds of a large creature walking. Chase flattened his ears, lowering himself, "it's on one of the kennels." The noise wasn't directly above them, meaning they weren't yet in mortal danger, but how soon until it was?

Rocky quickly stepped back, "Chase, I can't fix the box without the Driver."

"You don't have one?" the Shepherd argued, appalled at how Rocky didn't possess one if it was so valuable,

"Ryder never gave me one!" shot back the mix, "in fact, he never let me handle tools like that to begin with! Always just screwdrivers and hammers, never anything actually interesting."

"Wait, you said half the breakers," Chase suddenly put together, "what's still working?"

The mix shook his head, struggling to remember, "uh, I think it was for a basement. Everything in the tower itself is dead, but there's still power underground."

"Underground," the Shepherd thought aloud, "that includes the Boiler Room?"

"...I didn't even know we had a room like that,"

"Well, we do, and I need to get in there," Chase grimaced, remembering his cardinal mistake of throwing away the ACG's radio and gun, "do you have any idea where Ryder might have kept one of those tools?"

Rocky thought for a moment, looking at the ground until he got an idea, "probably in his garage with his AV?"

"We don't have any way of getting in there without power!" hissed the police dog,

"Well, there has to be a way!" Rocky exclaimed in his desperation, "hold on, I think I have something,"

Chase stuttered in confusion as Rocky suddenly got up from his position, and walked over to his desk in the corner. He started opening several drawers and rifling through them, grunting in agitation when he didn't find what he needed.

Chase wanted to ask what he was looking only for him to quickly dodge items as they were tossed away. Rocky's desk was filled to the brim with junk, as numerous things were tossed to the floor. The Shepherd rolled his eyes as screws were dumped, wrenches of various sizes, a blowtorch,

Taking another look behind him, Chase swallowed and dared himself to peek outside. The nerves were killing him, the inability to find or sense the threat outside was filling him with paranoia. Quietly moving forward, Chase poked his head out into the rain and frantically looked in all directions, fearing being exposed for even a second would be his death. His eyes finally rested on a startling sight: Feroxmalis was not just standing on top of Zuma's kennel, but leaning its head over, looking through its entrance and scanning the den. Its back tentacles were groping around the structure, seemingly latching itself onto it in the event it would need to climb inside the kennel from upside down.

Chase gulped and pulled himself back in, "Rocky, it's starting to look in the kennels," he frantically tried to hide the quivering fear in his voice, "whatever you're looking for, find it now,"

"Got it!" Rocky gripped a blue roll of paper in his teeth and pulled it out of a cabinet.

"What is that?"

"Blueprints of the tower," the mix replied, dropping the paper and letting it unroll on the ground, "Ryder gave me these when he tasked me with fixing some of the pipes. I guess he never asked for it back,"

Chase came forward to study the paper. It was a detailed description of the Lookout tower, complete with exact measurements and well documented every single nook and cranny.

"There," Chase pointed to a small rectangle below the tower diagram, "that's the Boiler Room, that's where I need to go,"

"Hey what about the vent system?" Rocky pointed at a faint network of lines that formed a grid around the tower.

The Shepherd narrowed his eyes until the lights came on in his head, "you're right! Look, there's one that connects to the outside! If we get the covers open, we should be able to get in the tower,"

"Looks like it's just around the tower," noted the mix, "we need to get the others,"

Chase quickly glanced outside, "assuming that thing hasn't gotten them,"

His words were met with a shocked bark from an appalled mix, "what?! Don't say things like that!"

"Just get ready to move,"

With his idea now churning in his head, Chase glanced outside, only to be confused as Feroxmalis was nowhere to be seen. The pouring rain did make it difficult to see, but a creature like that would stand out in the open. Confusingly, the monster was seemingly gone, vanished from eyesight. With small sounds of bewilderment, he pushed himself out farther to get a better look around.

"Where'd it go?"

Chase shook his head, slightly fearful but relieved that the coast was clear. Small droplets hit his head, making him remember that he was in the rain. Sighing, he shook his head to get the water off, scattering droplets around him. He was about to walk back inside when something quickly caught his eye: red droplets. In a small radius around him, several drops of red were spread about. Chase narrowed his eyes and looked down at the odd stains, trying to figure out where they could've from.

"Hey Rocky, are you seeing this?" He called back his friend,

The Mix turned around, "seeing wha-" he quickly stopped, suddenly freezing up and backing away.

Chase noted his friend's sudden terror, and gave him a puzzled look, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"Chase-" Rocky quivered, "there's blood on your head,"

"On my-" the Shepherd repeated, still confused, "what?" he reached a paw up and slicked back the fur on his head. Bringing his arm back down, he held out his paw in front of him, and nearly choked when he saw his pads covered in crimson-red blood.

"What-" he tried to say, looking to his side back out in the clearing. He quickly spotted Zuma staring at him, eyes also wide with fear and muzzle agape.

It was then Chase had a haunting realization: the drops hitting his head weren't rain at all. A wave of terror shot through him as he slowly leaned his head back, looking up at the top of the kennel. Feroxmalis was perched right on top, sitting patiently as it stared down at the powerless dog.

The Shepherd's heart skipped a beat, "no..." he took a step back, moving away from the kennel,

Rocky came forward, "Chase?"

"Get back," the police dog instructed, his voice breaking down, "get back!"

Feroxmalis steadily planted its front legs into the ground and slunk off the kennel, not taking its eyes off the small Shepherd. It watched Chase's horror, his distress, his fear, and basked in every second of it. The sheer terror it pulled from its victims was like a rush of the strongest drug out there.

"Chase!" Zuma howled from across the clearing,

"Get away!"

The police dog stumbled backward, panicking as he frantically pushed himself back. The mud was catching him, slowly pulling him into a sinking hindrance that would take his life. The creature before him merely followed steadily, emitting a low hiss as it stared down into him with its torn, beady eyes. It completely towered over Chase, nearly five times his size, and possibly even larger.

Frantic, Rocky turned back to his things and desperately searched for anything that could help. His eyes raced over every item at his deposal.

"The vents!" Chase called to his friends, "use the vents to get in the tower!"

The mix looked over the objects on the floor and quickly spotted the blowtorch. Heart racing. he grabbed the small tool by its handle and raced to the front door of the kennel.

Chase's life was flashing before his eyes as he backed up into the soiled puddles that flooded the clearing, his gaze locked with that of the monster. Rocky raced to the front, then quickly backed up from Feroxmalis's flicking tail, eager to spear through the body of a new victim. Thinking fast, Rocky did the only thing he knew to do: he turned his head to the side, and sharply tossed out the tool as hard as he could.

The blowtorch sailed under the creature's legs and landed in the mud with a splat. Chase quickly glanced down at it, then realized. As his life depended on it, he grabbed the blowtorch in his teeth, already hearing a snarl from the creature in response. He kicked the valve on the back as far to the right as it would go, held up the torch, prayed to whatever god or gods were watching him, and bit down on the trigger.

The clearing of the Lookout was suddenly illuminated in a bright glow, burning away the darkness as the fire's a scorching light bit into every dark corner and shone brightly. Zuma and Rocky had to hold up an arm to shield their eyes, having spent too long in the dark of night, as their eyes were well unprepared for the searing bright light that now burned before them. Not even the rain could snuff out the flame, the only thing that would stop it was the limited fuel within it. You weren't usually supposed to turn the gas valve all the way up, as this would cause an unstable flame to continuously emit outwards. Chase himself was nearly blinded from being so close, as the torch was directly carried in his mouth. Feroxmalis immediately stumbled backward and roared out, nearly colliding with Rocky's kennel. It was startled, enraged, constantly snarling and bracing itself as if the fire was about to shoot toward it.

Zuma watched in awe as he quickly put it together, "fire," he said to himself, "it's afraid of fire!"

Despite being slightly disoriented, Chase backed up, glancing behind him at the forest, "get to the vents!"

The creature was fuming, moving left and right as if it was trying to outmaneuver the flame. After a second it bounced forward, swiping its claws in one powerful motion, although they hit nothing. Further angered, it roared out its demented scream, honing in on Chase. Zuma took the opportunity to drag Marshall out and start moving him outside, aiming to reunite with Rocky while the creature was distracted. Its tentacles were spiraling out like erratic worms, its tail flicking in all directions as it set its sights on snuffing out the burning flame before it. The blowtorch had limited fuel, it wouldn't last forever. Taking another look behind him, Chase made a decision in a split second. He turned around and ran, taking the torch with him as he sprinted away into the trees. With what little remained of his light, he had to draw the monster away, even for a few seconds. He briefly heard Marshall's call as he ran, tearing across the wet grass toward the trees.

A snarl sounded behind him, as Feroxmalis quickly caught up with him, closing the distance between them in mere seconds. It spread its claws and dove them toward Chase's body. The Shepherd quickly whipped around, thrusting the burning fire and waving it around. The monster of gore screeched out in response, drawing its claws back and stumbling. Chase turned and ran again, he knew he couldn't outrun it, but the torch would give him just enough to bite it back. However, the flame was dying fast, and how long until Feroxmalis bit the bullet and entirely powered through the fire? Adrenaline coursing through him, Chase charged through the bushes and entered the forest. Feroxmalis growled, then looked up at tall, towering oak trees. Connecting the dots in its head, it sprang up and latched its claws into a tree, climbing up into its high canopy. If it couldn't take Chase head-on, perhaps it could jump him from above.

"Go go go!" Zuma hurried outside, pushing along a panicked Dalmation.

"Where's he going?!" Marshall worried aloud, "it followed him in the forest!"

"Good, maybe he'll keep it there,"

The two met up with a fearful mixed breed standing outside his kennel.

"Follow me, there are vents behind The Lookout," Rocky flicked his head in the direction, "we can use them to get in the tower!"

"What about Chase?" Marshall chipped in, turning his weary eyes to the walls of trees,

"He seems to have made up his mind," Zuma quickly stood in front of him, "let's go!"

Seizing the opportunity with the creature distracted, the trio of dogs took off through the rain. Rocky quickly ignored the wetness, realizing greater things were at stake, and there was no time to fear something as trivial as water. Zuma continued leading the Dalmation, almost ready to drag him if it felt like Marshall was about to run after Chase. It was obvious the firefighter didn't fully understand why Zuma distrusted the Shepherd, a fact that frustrated the Lab, but he promised to explain later when they weren't staring down the eyes of death. Their quick run around the tower ended when they came up behind the structure, briefly passing both the destroyed breaker box and the waterlogged carcass that was once a gopher.

The three approached a rectangular vent cover behind the tower, just big enough for a puppy to fit inside. Although, a quick observation revealed there was no way to open the cover.

"Wait, there's no handle," Zuma realized, "how are we supposed to get in?"

Rocky took a second to wipe the rainwater off his face, "uh, we could cut it open, or force it."

"But Chase took the blowtorch with him,"

The mix whipped around, baring his teeth, "do you see any other options?!"

"I'm just trying to help!"

"Well try harder!" Rocky barked, "I have a crowbar in my kennel... somewhere. I was hoping we could be quieter about this but I guess that's the only way,"

-.-.

Half a mile away, Chase was running for his life. Sprinting as fast as he could through the wet grass, throwing himself through bushes that drenched him in blinding water every time, navigating around trees that were nearly invisible in the dark of night, one wrong move could be his end. He had never run so fast in his life, and knowing there was an active pursuer on his tail was spiking his anxiety. The only way he could see forward was the light provided by the blowtorch in his mouth, still burning intensely in sparks of fire and ignited propane. However, this also made him a literal beacon, the light visible from at least a mile away to anything that could be following him.

He had no plan, no direction, no idea where to run, he could be going in circles and he'd never realize it. Chase continued in his sprint, weaving around a tree and jumping over a log. He glanced behind him for a brief moment, trying to get a read on if Feroxmalis was following him, yet he saw only the infinite void of trees he'd been seeing since he entered the forest. Suddenly, his paws painfully collided with an object he couldn't see, tripping him up and launching the puppy forward. The torch flew out of his mouth and landed some ways away. He fell hard, clipping a tree and bouncing off into a puddle of water. He could barely even make a noise before his world suddenly flipped sideways, complete with an aching sting in his head and paws.

"Ah-" the puppy groaned, twitching for a moment before he opened his eyes. His vision was spinning, water almost went up his nose before he picked his head out of the puddle. Ignoring the pain, Chase hobbled up, his body was a wreck. He looked around, realizing his light source was gone, "wha- where..." he felt like a lost duckling, abandoned in unfamiliarity and surrounded by things waiting to kill him.

He took a blind step forward, then another, and another, trying to find a direction while stopping to shake the rainwater off. Thunder sounded overhead, almost mockingly, as the sky very briefly lit up with lightning, illuminating his surroundings for a split second. An echoing scream could be heard in the distance, yet the sound bounced off the trees and surrounded Chase. Feroxmalis was nearing fast, and for all the abilities that creature seemed to have, was night vision one of them?

He hobbled a few more steps, his paws howling in pain from the fall. After a few seconds, he caught something in the corner of his eye: a burning red light. The Blowtorch. Chase perked up, beginning to make his way toward it.

Then he stopped.

Feroxmalis was a predator, clearly adept at getting what it wanted. Chase gulped, trying to keep his composure as he slowly backed away from the light. When he reached about six meters away from the lit torch, the puppy reached down and grabbed a small rock in his mouth. Heart racing, forehead flooding over with rainwater, he took a deep breath and tossed the rock over to the torch.

It landed almost in the fire, and for a moment nothing happened, but Chase was unmoving. Suddenly out of nowhere, Feroxmalis dropped down from the sky, seemingly dislodging itself from the tree it was in. Roaring out its scream, once again forcing Chase to cover his ears as the sound ignited static in his head, the creature smashed its paws into the torch, suffocating it into the water. The light completely died out, waterlogged, and snuffed into nothing. The monster had been waiting, it found the torch early with no dog attached to it. It chose to hide overhead in the cover of the leaves and branches, waiting for its prey to walk over and reclaim the tool.

As the creature snarled, brutally driving the tool deep into the mud, Chase quickly turned and snuck away. He wanted to run, but any sound would be his death. Ears flattened, Chase crawled under a log, grimacing as he sunk himself into mud and bugs. The creature had surely realized by now its trap failed, indicated by an agitated hiss. He heard footsteps but was unable to place their direction. He would be found eventually, he had to return to the tower and regroup with his friends. The dirtied Shepherd was about to step paw outside his cover when he heard a growl behind him, and he quickly retracted further under the log.

Shaking in the mud, he had no idea where the creature exactly was, only that it was somewhere behind him. It was just one growl, what did it mean? Was it moving away, or coming closer? Did it truly lose Chase, or was he mere seconds from death?

Suddenly, the log above him lurched downward, smashing into Chase's back.

"Hmf-" he suppressed his pained cry, the log already pressuring his spine.

It wasn't over. The log was pushed further, Chase bit his tongue as hard as possible to withhold his own screams as he was crushed underneath. If his spine wasn't going to snap, then he was going to be forced into the ground, buried in mud and left to suffocate. Feroxmalis had its "paw" on top of the log, propping itself up to get a view of its surroundings, trying to locate its prey. Was it truly unaware of Chase's location, or was it executing him, burying him alive in the ground? Chase tried to shift himself to his side, but his body was trapped. He struggled to get a gulp of air in as water began to rise over his nose. His paws and arms were pushed deep into the soil, effectively rooting for his incoming grave. His lungs began to writhe, quivering and pleading for air as the puppy fought to keep his nose up. Jagged wood began to cut into his head, and water leaked into his mouth.

The log was forced further, pressing the dog into the ground as he began to be slowly consumed by the darkness. With a final hiss of irritation, Feroxmalis turned, releasing its weight from the log. Chase was milliseconds from suffocating to death when his burden suddenly lifted, his nose shooting out of the mud and desperately inhaling. His life was spared, for now. He struggled against the holding mud, wrangling his arms and legs free from their hold in the ground, shooting out his front legs and gripping whatever solid ground he could find. Finally dragging himself out, he quickly coughed up grime that had slipped down his throat, then took a few deep breaths. His fur was completely slathered in mud and twigs, obscuring his natural colors and making him resemble that of a swamped corpse. His back was in agony from the overhead assault, but he had to return to the others.

Looking around fearfully, his muddy ears pricked at another unworldly shriek in the distance behind him. The monster was surely going back, looking to finish Rocky, Zuma, and Marshall if it couldn't have the Shepherd. The blowtorch was gone, its comforting light now dead, and so fell the only tool Chase knew of that made the monster even hesitate.

"Rocky," Chase said to himself, his concern growing as he looked around, trying to find a way out, "Marshall,"

If he was going to get home, he'd need to follow the only indicator he had: Feroxmalis. It was headed back, and if he didn't follow it, he'd be forever lost in the maze of trees. Shaking himself off, which was painful as his spine was still recovering, he mustered up his courage and crept off in the direction of the monster's roar.

-.-.

"Rocky, come on!" Zuma whined as he looked around in worry, "I heard its roar, it's coming back!"

"I've never done this before, okay?!" the mix shot in reply, trying to carry the heavy crowbar in his mouth,

"You need to wedge it right under the hinges,"

"Even if I manage that, these things weren't made for puppies!" Rocky griped, "I don't think I have the strength to rip a vent cover off the wall!"

"Just try!"

Marshall was pacing back and forth, trudging through the mud as the falling rain hid his distressed tears. Rocky steadied himself, and raised up his front half, standing up on his back legs. Walking on two instead of four legs was an awkward experience, but he needed the height to successfully jam the crowbar in. After a few attempts, he gave a yip of triumph as the tool was wedged in place.

"Got it!" Rocky lowered himself back down, and Zuma quickly came over,

"We just need to get this thing open, that'll be a group effort."

Rocky stood up again, swaying for a moment before the handle of the tool in his teeth. He thought for a moment, then let go and instead grabbed onto the handle with his paws, fearing breaking his teeth from the force. Zuma approached next, standing up as well, gripping the handle with the mix.

"Marshall, get in here," Zuma called over his shoulder,

The Dalmation looked up wearily, "I- I'm not strong enough for that,"

"You're still a third dog, come on!"

Muttering quietly, Marshall nervously walked over and tried to stand up. He'd done it before, but the rising dread of the circumstances made it difficult to do even the simplest things. After a few seconds, Marshall managed to stand and join the two in holding the tool.

"Alright, pull!" Rocky commanded. All three dogs pulled the tool with all their might, but the cover didn't budge. They tried four times, each attempt containing even more effort than the last, but no matter how much they tried, they simply weren't strong enough.

Feroxmalid emerged back in the clearing, slinking through the trees with silenced movement. Its beady eyes scanned its surroundings, noting each and every kennel. Growling slightly, it trudged forward to hunt down the remaining meat. Seconds after it left the trees, Chase's mud-covered head emerged from a bush, hushed and alert. Following the creature was one of the most haunting events of his life, although not as haunting as killing Skye. One snapped twig or rustling shrug would've completely alerted it, leading to an inescapable death. However, Chase had been successful so far, managing to make his way back.

He took one paw and crept out of the bushes, watching the creature approach Rocky's kennel and peer inside. The Shepherd's heart skipped a beat, immediately fearing for his friend, but Feroxmalis merely turned its head away, going to another den. They had followed Chase's words, likely all at the vent right now, perhaps even far away in safety if they had opened it long ago. Creeping through the darkness, Chase kept a far distance from the monster, using his muddied appearance as camouflage as he made his way behind the tower.

"It's no use!" Rocky panicked as he gave the crowbar another hopeless tug,

"We're going to die, we're going to die," Marshall paced,

"Okay, I'm in charge now," Zuma growled, turning to the others, "follow me,"

The Dalmation suddenly jumped in the air in surprise, "aaaaahhh!"

The other two quickly turned their heads, wide-eyed at their friend's outburst. Both the mix and Lab froze aghast at the sight of the creature before them, a creature caked in blood and mud.

"Quiet!" Chase insisted, looking around, "it's here, I couldn't keep it in the forest!"

Marshall fell backward, sticking all four legs straight in the air as he laid with a shocked expression. Rocky blinked, shaking his head, "Chase, is... is that you?"

"What the hell happened to you?!" Zuma exclaimed at the Shepherd's grizzly appearance,

"I narrowly escaped death, that's what happened!" Chase replied hastily, "it's still in the clearing, but I'm pretty sure it just heard Marshall. We need to get that cover off!"

"We can't!" Rocky protested, "we're not strong enough!"

"Oh for God's sake!" Chase snarled, flattening his ears at his friend's hopelessness, "we're all about to be dead in four seconds and you just give up?" The Shepherd quickly shouldered past the Labrador, standing up and gripping the tool, "all four of us should be more than enough,"

Rocky and Marshall quickly moved to grab the tool once again, but Zuma hesitated for a brief moment. He was happy to see his friend alive, but deep down, a part of him had been hoping Chase had run to his death in the forest. Shaking the thoughts away, he quickly came up behind and joined in the group effort.

"Now!" Chase gave the command,

The four of them lurched back, putting in every amount of effort they had. There was no greater motivation than knowing that failing to do this one thing would result in the complete extinction of the Paw Patrol. As if by some miracle, the vent cover broke under the pressure, snapping from the hinges and falling to the wet soil. Screws and broken bolts were flung into the air, landing in the water like little drops of metal. The vent was now open, revealing a dark, hot, narrow corridor that led into the inner workings of the Lookout

"We did it!" Rocky exclaimed,

"Go!" Chase turned to them, "get inside, I'll follow!"

The Shepherd quickly helped Rocky inside, pushing him in, then turned to Marshall and helped him as well. He turned to Zuma, holding out his paw as a way of offering a boost. Zuma merely stared at the Shepherd for a brief second, a blank look on his face. Chase frowned, lowering his paw slightly. The Lab suddenly walked forward, pushing past Chase as he climbed into the vent on his own, rejecting Chase's assistance. While slightly perturbed, the muddied police dog thought nothing of it and jumped into the vent.

Feroxmalis had been searching a blue kennel when it heard the Dalmation's scream. It picked its head up, standing at a firm seven feet tall as it arched its torn ears, trying to narrow on the sound. Its tentacles danced in the air, tasting for sounds and smells it could pick up on. It stood still like an antenna and was close to relaxing as nothing else met its ears. Then the vent cover fell. The sharp, unmistakable sound of tearing metal rang out well within its hearing. Snarling, Feroxmalis bared its teeth as it narrowed in on the sound. After a few moments, it turned its head in the direction of the tower, the sound had come from behind it. Getting down low, the creature began to silently stalk its way over, its thin tail flicking behind it.