FLETCHER'S POVHandfuls were butchered in no time, torn to worn out, meaty shreds by the furious fire of Tariq Jameel warriors.In any case, the smell of blood just drives most of us more out of control. We push on immediately, jumping over the rotting corpses of the dead and passing on, disregarding the hazard, the shots, the fallen. Not even a single monster turns and runs.I left the pack, unfit to control myself, gambling all to be one of the first to guarantee a human heart. It's insane. I ought to keep down and allow them to go about this dirty job.In any case, for the next twenty minutes I just let it go. I push forward with the others, yelling and crying, as a very remarkable objective as some other werewolf.Then we're on the scared warriors, hacking at them, tearing weapons from their hands, chewing down on their sweet, delicate tissue and very palatable bones. Human shouts are added to the whirlwind of gunfire and cries. The line crumbles underneath us. I'm past it before
Last Updated : 2026-08-16 Read more