All Chapters of The Full Moon Murders : Chapter 101 - Chapter 105

The alarm blared as soon as the cage door opened. A shrill, metallic scream echoed through the building, bathing every corridor in pulsing red light.Mason tightened his grip on Evelyn’s arm, hauling her toward the stairwell. Emily covered their backs, rifle snapping in sharp bursts as shadows lunged from the hall.“Go! Go!” Emily barked, squeezing off another shot. A wolf crumpled mid-charge, sliding across the floor, claws screeching against concrete.Evelyn stumbled but forced herself upright. Her legs ached from confinement, her wrists raw from the cuffs, but the adrenaline burned away the weakness. She clenched Mason’s shoulder, voice ragged: “Don’t…don’t slow down for me. If I fall, you keep going.”Mason shot her a glare, furious even in the chaos. “Not happening.”They barreled down the stairwell, boots pounding metal steps. The wolves weren’t far behind; the air filled with snarls, claws scraping steel. One leapt over the railing from above, landing in front of them with a bo

The forest was quiet after the fire.Smoke hung low among the trees, gray fingers curling through the branches. Ash fell like snow. Somewhere far behind, alarms still wailed from the ruins of the facility but out here, the world had gone still.The creature stumbled through the undergrowth, bleeding from half a dozen places. It no longer knew which parts of its body belonged to man or wolf. Its ribs burned when it breathed, its claws trembled with each step. The scent of smoke, blood, and freedom filled its lungs.Freedom.It didn’t know the word anymore, but the feeling of the ache of it stirred something deep.It collapsed against a tree, panting. Its reflection flickered faintly in a puddle of rainwater below gold eyes, torn flesh, a face that was almost human, and yet… not.It whispered, hoarse and broken:“Who… am I?”The sound startled even itself. The voice was deep, guttural, carrying fragments of what once was human speech.A rustle came from the trees behind.The creature’s

The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. It fell in relentless sheets over the quiet coastal town of Blackridge, drumming on rooftops, turning the narrow streets into rivers of silver.Daniel Ward leaned against the porch railing of the small inn, cigarette between his fingers, eyes fixed on the dark horizon where the forest met the sea. The storm’s fury didn’t bother him much. What bothered him was the sound he’d heard the night before the one that wasn’t thunder.It was a howl. Low, distant, and unlike anything he’d ever heard.And it came from the cliffs.He took a drag, watching the faint orange glow fade in the wind. The locals had warned him not to wander out there after dark. “People go missing near the cliffs,” the innkeeper had said. “Animals, hikers, even a few police officers.”Daniel wasn’t here for folklore. He was here for facts.Inside, the inn was dimly lit, all wood and warmth. A few old fishermen nursed their drinks by the fire, their faces drawn and weary. The televi