Please Help

Lunus cocked her gun and fired. The sparks of the flint burned bright like flames against the night's eternal darkness, and the smoke of the barrel ascended into the air, mixing itself with Malkouth's mist. Light hit the ominous scene as the silver bullet gleamed, catching the white of the moon and the orange of the sparks. 

The bullet soared determinedly towards the core of the Alpha's body and hit him, piercing his flesh and tearing into his monstrous form. He fell ingloriously to the ground, a crumpled heap, but something was wrong. He wasn't dead. He was merely wounded, and with a wolf like Balthazar, wounding was far from acceptable. 

Lunus fell to the ground with a thud and a cloud of forest ash rose up around her. She coughed twice and winced with pain. She had landed squarely on her back behind her shoulders and dropped her pistol from the impact. 

She lifted her head and looked to Balthazar. He was an inching heap of fur, pulling himself through the soft dirt back into the forest. His refusal to fight any more told Lunus that she had done a fine job of injuring him badly, but she wanted more than pain or weakness from the great villain of the forest. 

A panic struck her as she watched him slink away, and she hurried to find her gun, brushing her hands through the disintegrating deadness of the dry autumn leaves. Suddenly, her hand touched something metal, and she knew he was done. As Lunus picked up her gun and rushed to ready it for another shot at him, she knew what she wanted.

She wanted his life - all of it. She wanted his coat as a rug. She wanted every piece of him to suffer and die and the blood to drain out of him. She wanted to watch him die. She wanted to be the one to put the silver bullet through his heart and vanquish the monster, the shadow, the Alpha... even the Devil himself. 

Lunus rose to her feet and turned to go after him, walking deliberately and determinedly with each step through the crunching leaves. She clenched her teeth and looked at him with hatred as she saw him collapse a few yards in front of her. She came close to where the pile of fur lay and raised her gun, cocking it with firm and deciding hands. 

She was about to shoot when something happened. Suddenly, the wolves eyes opened, and she jumped back with a startled jolt. The eyes that watched her were trimmed in a soft and gentle brown, and they seemed almost human. It took her off guard and scared her more than anything. The wolf turned its head to look at her, and as he did, his fur began to fade and his fearsome body disappear. 

"Lunus," the wolf said, its voice fading into that of a man, "help me."

Lunus stood paralyzed in pure shock and astonishment. The beast said Lunus. Balthazar not only knew her name but was asking for help? No, not Balthazar. Not the wolf, but the man... whoever that was. 

She tried to regain control of her senses, but it was hard. There was nothing to prepare a Hunter for this. It wasn't in the training or the books or the manuals. It wasn't anywhere. But Evan knew... somehow, and Mr. Hollis. She would have to ask them more about it later. That is... if this wasn't a trap. 

She shook her head to dismiss the thoughts of any possibility of Evan's rightness, and reminded herself that there was no humanity in wolves, especially in Balthazar. This was all a trick, a trap, a ploy for survival. Balthazar was clever. He knew he was done, so he decided to pretend he was human. Appealing to her compassion and humanity would give him the help he needed to live or the time he needed to escape, but she knew... she would offer him neither. 

Lunus took a step forward and raised the gun again, keeping her arms straight and secure. This time, she was shaking, but she had her mind made up: she would shoot him. She put her finger on the trigger and began to pull, but as the fur continued to fade, phasing in and out with Balthazar's weakness, she saw him change and fall into the delicate shape of a man. 

Lunus's eyes widened in involuntary disbelief at the sight of him. Her arms fell to her side, becoming limp, and she dropped her gun. The shining metal pistol descended into the crushed and fallen leaves and went off, the silver bullet striking against the splintered bark of a nearby tree with a thunderous sound.

"Please, help me," the man said faintly, breathing heavily with painful, labored breaths.

Lunus shook her head, her mouth agape. "Evan!" she wholeheartedly exclaimed. 

"Please... help," he mumbled again before falling unconscious in a feverish pain. 

"Evan, what are you...!" she stopped.

What was she going to do? This was Balthazar, the werewolf, the monster, the Alpha. She couldn't help him. If she saved him now, she might be lunch tomorrow... or somebody else could be. Either way, it wasn't good. But Evan? She remembered what she had told him earlier, and she understood what he meant now that she might find Balthazar just as human as he was. She hadn't thought it possible, but here she had. 

Perhaps Evan knew more than what he said, then. What if there really was a curse on the town? If that was the case, it might not matter how many werewolves she killed... there would just keep being more of them. In which case, shooting Evan would mean absolutely nothing.

Lunus bent down and examined him. His shirt was torn and bloodstained. She had shot well, but just a little off. She missed his heart. 

"From what I know of werewolves, this should heal," she muttered. 

She lowered herself down and knelt on the ground beside Evan, staring at him as if he could somehow help in her decision. 

As Lunus saw it, she had three choices: 

If she shot him, he would die, and Balthazar along with him. 

If she helped him, he would live, but for how long, and how many people's lives would be cut short or put in danger because of it? 

If she left him, he might live but he might die, and she wasn't sure that any good would come from either, but at least no one could hold her responsible for it.

She touched her hand to Evan's face, thinking to leave him, but he opened his eyes and looked at her, his brown eyes desperately pleading from behind the lenses of his dark rimmed glasses.

Then again, there was this strange affinity she had for Evan Marshal... the kindhearted man and the cold blooded beast.

"Lunus..." he said softly, and she saw the mortality in the brown rings of his blackened eyes, "please, help."

His words cut through her, and her heart yearned to help him.

She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. 

"Alright," she said begrudgingly, opening her eyes. "I'll help you, Evan," she promised, and she stroked his hair gently to comfort him. "But I really hope I don't regret this."