Before she could grasp what was happening, Emma heard the crunching of bones and a wet slapping sound similar to that of a skin stretching. Her attacker’s features became more feral, their eyes changing and their faces contorting.
Their fingers thickened, becoming dangerous claws, and their ears swooped back. They became a bit taller than they were, their feet growing longer and ankles raised off the ground. Loud grunts and snarls filled the room as their teeth extended into fangs and fur burst across their form.
Emma watched fearsomely as they transformed into creatures she had never seen in her life. Eleven horrible creatures were crouching and circling their prey, who were standing undisturbed by their transformation.
Their humaneness was replaced by beastly features. Whoever or whatever the man was, he was not frightened by them. But it wasn’t a fair fight, and he didn’t transform like them.
Emma shuddered, struggling to keep her composure as she watched them standing in an aggressive stance. She felt the urge to run, but she knew she wouldn’t get that far. Her body was exhausted from the fight, and she could barely keep her eyes open.
She heard their fierce growling. They were ready to attack. All at once, all of them lunged toward the man in the middle, their vicious eyes vigilantly fixed on him.
The man jumped toward his enemies, his movement was swift and powerful. He dodged a claw aimed at his chest, swiftly rolling over and landing gracefully back on his feet.
His eyes fixed aggressively on the creature closest to him and in a swift movement that was too fast for Emma to see, he lacerated his opponent’s chest.
She heard the howling sound and watched as more of them jumped toward him.One more clean swipe at his injured opponent’s throat and his neck ripped wide open. He was dead.
Emma watched as her attackers launched themselves towards him and his movement to defend himself. She heard a gurgling sound as blood splattered everywhere. One of the creatures dropped dead, blood gurgling from his ruptured neck.
One by one, they fought him, but they were not his match.
The cracking of bones, slashing of throats and howling sounds all came from her attackers. None of them was spared as their throats were slit, and their heads ripped off from their body. Torn limbs and dead bodies were everywhere. The sickening stench of Blood filled the air and the smell of death penetrated the building.At last, they were two fighters left. Callus was snarling aggressively and the man who had saved her. They had both dropped into a low squat and circled warily opposite each other. Emma observed their motion, her heart pounding in her rib cage.
If Callus defeated and killed the man who saved her, she would be dead as well. She resisted the urge to pray for the man to kill him.
She didn’t know his intentions, whether they were better or worse than Callus’s. Her mind assured her that he would kill Callus.He had single-handedly taken down ten of his opponents, and he didn’t transform like them. He held back his humanness, but he was still stronger, faster, and more brutal.
Emma has never witnessed anything like this. The closest she has been to a dangerous case was once she chased down a pickpocket. Technically, she was a desk agent than a field agent.
Therefore, watching this scene before her was only real to her in movies. The so much blood, decapitated heads and bodies, were really in front of her. It might take days or even months before she got a good night of sleep ever again.
If her sources led her here, that means that this was a breakthrough. And, who was the fierce warrior in front of her?
Emma tried to get to safety just in case more people were coming. If she had just survived her throat being slashed, better if she made use of the second chance given to her.
As she snaked her way to a pile of crates, she noticed a shadow sneaking through the open window. While her savior was preoccupied fighting off Callius, the shadow tried to attack from behind.
At the speed of light, Emma reached for her gun and aimlessly shot the shadow as she was overwhelmed. Luckily, she hit the target, earning a deadly glare from the man. It was a glare that said, "I don't need your help.”
“You're welcome,” Emma mumbled before making it to where she was headed before.
The man turned his focus back to Callus.
Callus’s motion was slowly timed, too slow that it gave the man an advantage to recognize his move. He attacked, ink-dark eyes glaring at his prey as he swung towards him.The man moved at a correctly precise angle, striking his first blow on Callus, his fingers managing to drag bloody graze marks across his face. He missed his neck, but Emma was sure it wouldn’t happen again.
Again, Callus pounced first, and this time, he moved violently toward his opponent. Instead of backing out, the man launched himself toward Callus as well.
They both leaped at the same time, meeting in the air and exchanging blows and claws.Callus swung a powerful right, but his opponent dodged gracefully and lashed out his own. He was faster, and he caught Callus' head in one sudden movement. With one powerful swipe, he returned gracefully to the ground.
Callus fell after him like a limp rag, his head severed from the rest of his body, and the gurgling sound of blood rang in the room as blood splattered all over. It was over.
As she sat crumpled on the ground, her eyes focused in front of her, she realized the fight was over. There were bodies all over the warehouse and the ground was slippery with blood.
She had survived, but not by the powers of her hands.Someone had come to save her and had bloodied and battered eleven gruesome creatures to save her. Squinting, she looked towards her savior, who now held the dangling head like a trophy, emotions void from his face.
She was saved, wasn’t she?
Standing in the middle of destruction, his chest rising and falling, Clyde slowly raised his black vacant eyes to meet his mate who had watched him tear apart limbs and heads. She was coiled in a corner, her eyes screaming fear. He took a step closer, disappearing into the darkness for only a brief moment before reappearing only inches away from her. He was standing before her, his soulless black eyes staring into hers. She was unable to suppress her fear and trembled beneath him. He couldn't discern if she was terrified of the massive head he held like a trophy or his demeanor. He didn't have to know that. All he knew was that she was terrified of him. He didn't blame her. He killed eleven men, who she watched transform into unknown creatures far from humans. He didn't kill them with a gun or knife like she intended. No. He had ripped off their heads with his hands, bathing himself with the blood of her enemies. She should, of course, be terrified of him. Power flushed through
Emma's eyelid fluttered, then flew open. She was covered in a cold sweat, her heart pounding as she glanced around the room, paranoid that the horror in her dream may have followed her back. Fortunately, she was alone. A low groan escaped her lips as she tried to turn on the bed. She was hurting, but she hadn't realized it until then. She stared down at herself. She was still fully dressed. She had been sleeping on her bed, in her brightly colored room flooded with light. But something wasn't right. The first indication of that was her bruised body. Her head ached with pain and her neck had weird scratch marks. She didn't remember getting into a fight or changing into the pajamas she had woken up with. The second was her bedsheet, which was covered in blood stains. Looking around her room, her eyes caught her overall, lying close to the bathroom door, and the memories of her night flooded her mind instantly. She hadn't been dreaming. It was all real. The attack, the creatures, th
She muttered something under her breath as she walked into the building, mentally prepared to face her boss and partner. But as she walked in, the chaos and tension in the air told her that she might after all slip and walk away unnoticed. Emma watched as people darted back and forth within the department. Heads were huddled together in a corner as they spoke in low tones discussing an event or occurrence that seemed to hold much importance. Her boss was speaking to someone on the phone, pacing hurriedly in his office and her partner's attention was undivided as he read through files. 'Serial Killer...' her ears picked up from the group in the corner. Emma swallowed heavily, she had no idea what had happened but she knew it was devastating. She prayed silently, that it wasn't as gruesome as everyone's reaction made it seem.Walking to her partner at his desk, she greeted him. "Morning Allen, How are you?..."Looking up at her, he replied immediately. "Where have you been all morning
She remembered how these men had transformed into weird creatures before her eyes. She remembered how they howled and fought like beasts. She had remembered the furs, the extended limbs and the claws. But yet, none of the pictures captured these details. Was she hallucinating? It was impossible to believe otherwise as she stared at the pictures of eleven murdered humans. "I'm leaving..." Emma jumped in surprise as Allen tapped her shoulders. "Are you okay?.." He asked, observing her shocked expression. "Ummmm...Yeah..." She lied. "I was just reading through the files. This is a very bizarre case...""Well, the autopsy results would be ready tomorrow and we'll probably have a lead..." He sighed. "For now, I'm heading home...""Ok. I'm just going to stay back for a while..." Emma said leaning casually against her chair. "I think I have some other files to review..."Allen nodded, then strode hurriedly away. There were several thoughts in her mind as she watched him leave. She shook he
Clyde took a brisk step backwards, letting himself sit comfortably on her bed. "You might want to sit down for this....""No, thank you..." "It's your bedroom, Emma Watson..." He replied with an injured expression. "You should sit...""No. I. Don't. Want. To. Sit. On. The. Bed..." She replied firmly. "Or close to you..." She finally breathed. "Why? You think I'm a monster?..." He was amused. Did she think backing away from him could stop him if he desired to kill her? She would have been dead the minute she walked in if he intended to kill her. She blinked. "You killed those men..." It wasn't a question. He didn't think so. It was an affirmation that she did think of him as a monster. "Did I commit a crime?...""The murders are being investigated...""Are they now?..." The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. There was a slight tone of mockery and mischief in his last question. Her words were clipped. "I ask again..." She drew her breath. "What are you doing here?...""I
He didn't intend to transform fully for fear that she would pass out. He just had to show her that he wasn't what he looked like. Clyde watched as she took unwilling steps backwards as his werewolf features began to surface. She was nearly wheezing, nearly hyperventilating as his bones began to crunch. He watched as she tried to remain brave but she was coming apart. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared with the force of rapid breathing. She jumped with fright as a low growl escaped his mouth. With just a little transformation, Emma only stared at him motionlessly. He had expected her to scream, he had been prepared to stifle a thundering cry for help. But she however did neither. She remained unmoving, her eyes focused on him. Sensing that she had seen enough of what he intended for her to see, Clyde began to slowly shift back to his human form. He was surprised that she hasn't flung her purse at him or run out. But perhaps, because she had seen worse within the past hours. E
His eyes searched her face for any reaction when he stopped speaking. Surprisingly, she burst into fits of laughter. Clyde's eyebrows twisted with fury and he clenched his fists. "You find what I say funny?..." Giggling, she nodded. "Yes, I do. How long did you have to rehearse this?..." But he wasn't amused. And he was certainly struggling to bottle up his anger. He did not doubt that if she pushed him again, he would lose it. She shook her head with gusto. "No?..." And then silence settled over the room as she realized that he was indeed telling the truth. It was like the true meaning of his words caught the light in her head. There was not a glimmer of amusement or smile around Clyde's face. His chiseled face was rigid, bearing visible anger as he focused his gaze on her. "You're not joking..." She admitted. Clyde wondered if his expression had ever pointed out that he could be joking. He wondered if she had gone blind for the minute he had shifted before her. As much as he f
Emma stared at the files before her, which contained the autopsy report. It had arrived early that morning and caused turmoil in the office. The result was shocking and incredibly unbelievable, yet, she somehow had expected it. The result revealed the men were killed by an animal attack. It raised so many controversies amongst everyone but she remained quiet. Clyde was right. He was right all along. Her gaze landed on Allen, her partner. He was stomping around the place furiously. Allen was a perfectionist who had no desire to fall back on any case he started. So when the much-awaited autopsy had returned with no lead except that the men were killed by a rabid animal, Allen had lost it. He had marched to Jeffrey, Emma's boss, with a file that contained a thousand reasons he believed the autopsy was wrong. He didn't believe the result and Emma feared no one did. But the results had left everyone shaken and speechless. Silently, within her heart, she knew she doubted the certainty of