Final Vengeance
A flash of moonlight . . . a werewolf howling. . . the woods . . . for an instant, these images paralysed Nathan's conscienceness.
No, he wasn't a werewolf, Hell no. Nathan gave the finger to the full moon shining ineffectually overhead.
Yeah, but like Virginia's grandmother had said - he was goddamn contaminated for the rest of his life. Flashes of light, distorted sounds, subliminal instinct had screwed with him on and off over the past year. But it hadn't gotten worse and . . . thankfully . . . it was rare.
Nathan refocused when he realized Virginia was next to him.
"FBI by day," Nathan quipped to Virginia, "Werewolf hunting vigilante by night."
"Just don't put a bullet into your self yet," Greg said wryly.
It was all too clear to Greg that his prospective brother-in-law had suffered from one of his attacks. Greg was still wary of Nathan - although he had long been cured, and had taken their war with the monsters as his own.
Finding the world's last pack had been the doing of Virginia and Nathan. Going through federal files, finding some unexplained murders, looking through the Sullivan's books - had pinned the last werewolves hiding in plain sight in the same city Nathan held down his day job.
It had been daunting at first. No werewolf pack had lived in a city for - hundreds of years, if ever. You couldn't shoot them in broad daylight - couldn't identify them with silver pellets.
At last, they had figured out the modus operandi. With a lot of spying, too little hunting - as Greg critically judged their strategy.
These werewolves couldn't shape change at will - merely hunting in a pack when the moon was full. Mostly in a derelict industrial area. The wolves were highly murderous - no one bitten had ever lived to see the light of day.
Originally, there had been sixty at the most. Now, the unsuspecting wolves had been brought down to five through steady hunting during the nights of the full moon.
Dangerous work - but the only way it could be done around here.
Virginia and her brothers looked warily into the murky darkness of a desolate side street. In front of them was the crumbling building where they had heard the howls of the creatures.
Nathan continued to walk to the right side of Virginia. He fought the urge to whistle. One thing the movie had done was reinforce his rage. Manically, he was looking forward to this final showdown.
The building was an old office building of red brick, attached to some factory. This dump was abandoned for something like twenty, twenty-five, thirty years. There was grass growing in the cement parking lot out back. The windows on the upper floors were smashed. The windows and doors on the bottom floor were boarded up. The bricks were broken. There had been a fire escape. It had rusted through and collapsed onto the weeds below. The factory's brick chimneys slanted to the side. The whole heap was ready to fall into the harbour alongside.
Virginia made her way carefully inside through a broken door. Her brothers and Nathan followed, flashlights and weaponry in hand.
The building had a large lobby - a five storey roof - the upper floors bordering on the lobby with elaborately carved, broken, and smashed balustrades.
Not surprisingly, they had walked into an ambush. Three of the creatures jumped down from the second floor.
Virginia gunned one of them down, watching it burst into flames as it incinerated. The movie had gotten the creatures wrong - she wondered if they had asked Jake (Jake roasted another as she thought). In reality, the creatures were definitely heavier and more wolflike - through, to an expert, subject to a slight clumsiness of action resulting from being a human size quadruped which - still - preferred to attack on two feet.
Greg got his target - and watched as it went up in flames.
"Two to go," said Nathan.
"Let's split up," said Greg.
"Not a good idea," said Virginia.
They stopped to argue - but two on two (at the most) seemed good odds.
"Come on - us two'll go upstairs," said Nathan.
He started climbing the groaning stairs - Virginia behind him.
They reached the top floor, no results.
"This may be my last chance to try this," Virginia said.
She had thought the idea stupid - but it couldn't hurt to try it now. She had no doubt her idea had been originally inspired by Nathan's bad habit of whistling while hunting.
Nathan glanced at her. Slickly dressed in black, thin but elegant with long vibrant red hair. The love of his life.
To his surprise, he saw he take a small silver whistle out of her pocket. She blew it . . . it was silent.
"Dog-whistle?" asked Nathan.
"Yes," she nodded. "It may work - it might not."
There were a couple of howls - and in an instant the last two werewolves had burst through a rotting mahogany door.
One lunged toward Virginia, knocking down Nathan in the process. She scrambled back toward the broken balustrade. At the last moment she jumped up, and lightly manoeuvred around the lumbering creature. She shot it twice - once in the head, once in the heart - it burned up, and its charred remains fell against the railing and to the lobby four stories below.
Nathan had been brought down, he also dived to avoid the swipe of the wolf's claws. Though in his case he tripped on the creature's tail in the effort.
He was only spilled over for a second. Now he turned to sternly face the monster before him. Quickly, he emptied a round of bullets in - his eyes filled with fanatical hatred.
"Almost inhuman." Virginia worried.
Nathan's hatred, however, was from a very human wish for vengeance.
"For Virginia's parents," he thought. "For all the other innocent victims over the years." "For making me one of your damned type." "Trying to make me a murderer." "For setting me up to be kill or be killed by Red and her family."
This wolf burst into flames - and exploded.
Sometime after, the two of them joined the Sullivan brother outside.
The full moon still shone high - mysteriously, it was blood red although there was no eclipse that night.
Some sort of sign, Virginia guessed. She was right.
"It's over - they're history," said Jake.
The Sullivan brothers, and Nathan, high fived.
"You're family," said Greg. "But I'm still gonna have to keep an eye on you."
"Ah, don't listen to him," Jake joked to Nathan. "He just wants another wolf to kill."
Nathan shrugged. "It'll be a cold day in hell before you'll find me howling at the moon."
"Don't worry, you'll win Greg over again," Virginia told him later.
"Hey, I don't give a damn," Nathan replied, as they walked to their apartment. "I'm back where I started. Rising FBI agent. Werewolves don't exist - anymore.
He looked at her as they entered the lobby of the building.
Vibrant. Shapely. Smart. Brilliant red hair.
"And I've got you," he said, embracing her.
It had been a long night - he wasn't tired, but still eager to get to their apartment.