Mason flinched awake by the noises he heard–screams, cries, clanging of metals, and heavy footsteps–and he stepped down from his bed.
He glanced at the girls' bed but it was empty. The lamps in the room have been extinguished. It was early morning, and the sun hasn't even appeared.
"Harrr!"
The sharp but still distant scream came again. Mason wore his sneakers and navigated his way out of the room. The living hall was empty, and so he made his way through the exit door.
When he got outside the scene he beheld made his heart jump to his mouth. It was chaotic! The village was under an attack. There were blood splatters on the ground, a limb was lying on the ground, resting against the wall of a nearby house.
Screams came again, and he glanced to the right to see a woman running a few meters away. Not long after, Mason caught sight of a seven-foot creature running after her.
The sight was brief and Mason couldn't identify who or what it was. Curiously, he sprinted in that direction, and when he reached there, he saw nothing.
A sound came from behind him, and he turned to see, earning himself a slam on his chest.
Mason doubled over, wincing in pain. He raised his head and beheld an imposing creature standing in front of him. It has the head of a wolf and a hairy humanlike torso.
The creature was mostly naked, with a muscular physique and veins that seemed to pulsate with immense energy. It stood on its hind legs, its dark razor sharp claws spread wide, as though about to strike at any moment.
"What kind of costume is that?" Mason wondered aloud, ignoring the pain in his chest.
"Costume?" The creature echoed, its body shaking as it erupted into laughter. Its long claws, which had spread wide, have returned to its side.
It suddenly stopped laughing, took a step toward Mason and leaned over, sniffing him. "You're handsome," it croaked, and it pulled its lips back over its white sharp fangs. "And you smell nice. Now I wonder what you'd taste like, human."
"Oh my God!" Mason exclaimed as he realized it wasn't a costume; the creature was real. A werewolf! He crawled back away from the creature's reach, terrified.
"With my claws, I shall dig out your guts," the werewolf said, its voice laced with lilt, "and with my teeth, I shall rip off your limbs." It raised its hand off to pounce but it dropped back to its side.
A metal emerged from its chest, and blood from its opened maw. The beast fell flat on its face a few inches away from Mason, revealing the one who had thrust a sword into the werewolf.
"Mia!?" Mason said, his voice filled with relief. He was covered in sweat despite the chilling morning breeze.
"Rava is on your side," Mia said. "You wouldn't have made it if I were a second late."
"And who's Rava?"
"The God of Protection."
Mason stood up from the ground and peered at his savior. His eyes widened when he saw her covered in blood.
"Not my blood," Mia replied, reading his face. "Now come on. There are a lot of them."
"Lots of what? The werewolves?" Mason asked.
"Yes," Mia answered. She put her foot against the corpse on the ground and yanked free her sword. Suddenly, the werewolf began to shrink, its large body slowly miniaturizing into a humanoid figure.
A human!
Why would a human choose to eat another human? Mason thought and he followed Mia as she sprinted past two houses ahead. Mason ran along, hoping he wouldn't lose her.
The road collided with a long street, where several werewolves ravaged the villagers. Mason caught sight of a werewolf ripping off the limb of a woman, who couldn't do anything but scream.
They are eating them alive! These monsters found pleasure in hearing their prey's screams!
About a dozen men in leather armor retaliated, charging at the pack, but the werewolves wrecked through their ranks.
Gores filled the ground as a werewolf grabbed a little girl with its maw, shaking its head violently and snapping the girl's bones.
Many people, who Mason assumed to be farmers, held pitchforks, cutlass, pickaxes, and other farming tools they could lay their hands upon. But the creatures only saw them as disturbances rather than threats.
"No!!!" Mason cried, tears flooding his face. His heart thud with deep sadness.
A wolf charged in his direction, but Mia brought it down with a single mighty stroke, cleaving the flesh-eater's neck. Two more charged, keeping the girl busy.
Mason turned around by the heavy breath he heard and he saw two wolves heading his direction. He staggered back, looking around him for something he could use to put it at bay.
He wanted to call Mia's attention, but she was busy dealing with her own share of enemies. One of the werewolves stumbled and fell and didn't rise again. There was an arrow lodged in its head.
Mason looked up and saw Amie a few distance away, approaching, another arrow notched. She fired it at the second creature. The arrow sank into the werewolf's leg and it fell on its face. It let out a loud howl and began crawling toward Mason.
Amie snatched off a sword from a bodiless limb lying on the ground and threw it to Mason. "You'd need it," she said.
Mason nodded and grabbed the sword. He glanced at the werewolf crawling toward him, his heart pounding within him. Hesitation came over him, but he didn't want to die.
Mustering all the courage he could, Mason raised the sword up and brought it upon his foe, severing the head from its body. Amie opened her mouth, perhaps in surprise, but closed it back.
Maybe slaying the creature boosted his confidence more, Mason rose up and charged at the approaching werewolf with renewed vigor.
During those two years, he'd spent working his way up to the pinnacle of the investment world, he'd learned some basic skills on how to defend himself should he get into a tight spot. His pain endurance had been handy and had helped him become stronger.
Dodging was one of the skills he focused more on; he'd been able to dodge those assassins's brutal attacks. His head would've rolled had he not focused on it. Every effort paid off now.
Seeing Mason's upheld sword the werewolf grinned. Probably because it thought it had found a match–or a courageous handsome breakfast.
A wild strike from its massive claws was what was needed to send Mason to his Creator. Mason thought so as he ducked down, flanking the creature with a desperation-born strength.
The creatures' hunger made them desperate and pushed almost all their strength into a single blow. And when their prey dodged, it took them a while to regain their stance and charge again. Whoever their alpha was taught them poorly.
Blood trickled down the slight cut Mason had inflicted on the werewolf. Despite the strength he had put in to get rid of this thing, all he could cause was a small cut? Damn it!
A terrifying howl echoed through the air, shattering the atmosphere. It was a long howl that seemed to catch the attention of the other werewolf.
"The alpha," Mia said, finishing off the last standing werewolf around her. There was fear in her voice. "There would be trouble if it joined their hunt."
Blood was dripping from multiple cuts on her body. There was a slash on her chest, which had shredded a part of her dress. It must have been painful, but she didn't show it on her face.
"Amie," Mason muttered as he swiveled around. Amie was no longer in sight. He pivoted and scurried to the direction she came from earlier. She must've returned to check on her old parents.
Mason leaped over piles of meat and bones scattered on the ground. Some houses have been lowered to little more than ruins, and piles of debris littered the street.
Mason thought it was a small village, but it was quite bigger than he thought. Movement caught his attention and he glanced at the roof of a house a few distance ahead.
A young lady stood there, shooting arrows with a small bow. Looking closely, Mason realized she was the girl who had sustained a slash on the shoulder the previous day during their encounter with the Shakas.
One werewolf leaped off the ground toward her but fell down in death as it was rewarded with an arrow buried in its throat. She took another arrow from the quiver on her back and shot at another werewolf who was preparing to jump.
The arrow missed, and the girl fumbled back to fetch another one. Alas, she had run out of arrows, and running was no longer an option. Before she could produce a dagger clipped to her belt a wolf got to her and bit down on her throat, spouting gores and veins.
Mason averted as he continued running. Finally, he stopped at a wide field. No, it was a farm, grains stretched into the distance. There stood half a dozen men, wielding makeshift weapons to keep the wolves about them at bay.
Among them stood Daniel, dealing with a wolf with a pickaxe. That shouldn't be surprising considering the man was once a warrior. But this man was old enough to break a bone if he did himself a heavy task.
Mason turned by the scream he heard, and he saw Amie on the ground about five meters away. Her weapons are scattered around her.
An enormous werewolf toward above Amie, bigger than any Mason had encountered so far. Its claws were larger, and its yellowish eyes bigger.
The alpha!
"Amie!!!"