The Wolf's Game
Even though only three of us remain, I know we can’t do this alone.
I choose right and as I turn, I slam into something solid. My body ricochets back, and I hit the floor hard. A growl rattles the air and my heart stutters. I am the only werewolf left in the Game. I look up slowly, afraid of what I might see.
Dax stands over me. Or what used to be Dax.
His silhouette is wrong. His too thin, too tall. Shadows drip from his shoulders like wet tar. One eye glows the familiar storm-grey. The other flickers red, pulsing in time with the moonlight in the walls.