Chapter 23

All semblance of Russel was buried under the immense weight of the wolf’s mind. It overpowered him and the sense of being pushed underwater intensified. The werewolf only wanted to hunt now. To kill. It needed to find prey and chase it down. It needed to feel its claws strip flesh, to guzzle blood, and feel chunks of meat slide past its throat. It didn’t have a need to satiate a specific hunger. It had a need to end life and it was not picky on the particulars. Animal, monster, or human. It made little difference.

Now it was on the trail of its latest prey. He could track the scent easily. It was definitely human but faintly floral as well. There was something underneath it he could smell. Russel’s mind, however, was too far gone to pinpoint that underlying scent and the werewolf didn’t care to know. All it cared about was catching up to the human.

It went slowly at first, taking its time. The scent was so strong, he could almost see it. The world was now monochromatic and in shades of amber colors, like the world had been doused in sepia tone. All around, the wildlife sensed the presence of something incredibly large, strong, and powerful and silenced themselves so they were not found and killed.

Saliva and drool filled his mouth at the prospect of another kill.

The werewolf’s patience evaporated suddenly and its slow stalking switched to a four-limbed jog that then changed to a trot and finally a full-out run. He completely ignored the rocky landscape. Bits of jagged rock and pebbles bit into the flesh of his paws but they were insignificant. They hurt for a fraction of a second and then healed over. The same could be said of the branches that slapped into his face as he ran. Most of them didn’t even register in his consciousness and if they did, it was only for him to swipe savagely at and rip completely off the tree it belonged to.

In short, there was nothing in the wolf’s way that could stop it. The only thing that possibly could have stood a chance against him was another werewolf and there were none around except for himself.

Overhead, the moon hung in the sky. Its beautiful, silvery glow would be the only witness to his latest death. In his animalistic, hazed over mindscape, the feeling of satisfaction he got at knowing that still got through to him. The human would make a fitting tribute to the Maker.

This pleased him so much that he went even faster, the scent trail getting stronger and stronger as he did which meant only one thing.

He was almost there. Almost caught up to the human.

****

Lola could feel a presence, one full of such bloodlust it felt like a fog rolling through the air. She knew instantly what it meant.

Or rather…who.

It was Russel but again, not Russel. It was his wolf. Manifested and made real. Judging by the sheer amount of murderous intent she could feel on the back of her neck, he was also ready to absolutely rip her to shreds. She didn’t want to be killed that way. In fact, she realized as she kept running despite how badly fatigued she was, that was rapidly becoming a legitimate phobia of hers.

Vorarephobia. The fear of being eaten alive or swallowed.

Somewhere along the way she had acquired that term, like collecting a trinket or rare item from a bazaar. Out of all the words to remember, it was ironic that that would be one of them. She was, after all, just minutes away from being eaten and swallowed alive herself.

I’m not getting away from him. I know it. He is getting closer and closer and as soon as he gets close enough, that’s it. At least I’ll get to see my parents soon. And my friends. All the people that I loved back home.

In her final seconds, those were the thoughts percolating through her brain. Each one was like water dripping off a stalactite into her pool of consciousness.

Thoughts of her loved ones, her mom and dad especially, were some of the more prevalent thoughts inside her head but there were others. They were just as strong. Just as potent as those other thoughts. But these new ones were all centered around Russel.

I hope he doesn’t kill himself with grief over what he’s done. I hope he can move on with his life. I hope he realizes my death was not his fault.

What if…what if…what if…had now been replaced with I hope…I hope…I hope statements.

And then even those thoughts disappeared under a ton of memories of her life coming back to her, each one in vivid, surprising detail. Memories of her childhood and roaming free in Gloucester. Of wreaking havoc as she played with the other children of the village. Then she was in her pre-adolescent years, trying to wrap her immature mind around the world at large, wondering why things happened the way they did. After that were her adolescent years when she spent diving into the exploration of…things with others, specifically the boys around her age but sometimes the other girls too.

Then came the memories she was most anxious about coming back. Memories of Drake and his wolves laying waste to Gloucester. Killing her mother and father. Slaughtering her friends. Murdering the others she had known her whole life. Drake had come in and in less than a few hours time, he had butchered not just her home but part of her soul as well. A part she missed deeply. Even now, as she ran for her life, she could feel tears on her cheeks. The pain was a harsh, ragged thing inside her but she realized that the time she had spent with Russel seemed to heal it a bit. She didn’t feel better by any means, but she at least felt like she could go on living.

Thoughts of Russel inevitably led to her memories of him and the time they spent together. A werewolf himself but different from Drake and those that had been with him. Russel felt like a human first and a wolf second. She wasn’t even sure if that was the right way to describe him but in her fear-muddled brain, it was the best she had.

He saved her life. Trained her. Protected her countless times. Even offered her sanctuary. And he never once asked for anything in return. The way he didn’t hesitate when everyone else would have run for the hills stunned Lola.

Why?

It was a question she had asked herself a lot since they had left Gloucester behind, the flames still eating away at the village’s buildings.

Why did he protect her?

It was, she realized, probably a pretty simple answer. One she could feel echoing inside herself too.

It was love.

He loved her.

And, she realized, she truly did love him too.

The werewolf was still behind her. That insane bloodlust was unmistakable but instead of continuing to run away, she stopped completely. She wasn’t even sure how far away the werewolf was but that didn’t matter. This was the move. Running away wouldn't get her anything except maybe to delay the inevitable. Besides, she had a hunch and she was pretty sure it was going to work.

Slowly, her heart beating so fast it thumped constantly in her ears, she turned around.

A wash of cold, iciness went cascading all throughout her body. The werewolf was much closer than she had guessed. It was so close to her she could easily pick it out on the landscape as it charged toward her. The lantern-like glow of his eyes was unmistakable.

Despite that, however, she held her ground.

And still, the werewolf came.

She tried to breathe steadily to help still her racing heart but it only helped a little. Her legs still felt so wobbly, they threatened to send her to her knees. She held firm though. Her hands tightened into fists and her jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes still glistened with tears.

The werewolf was only two dozen or so feet away. If he jumped at her, there would be no stopping him.

“I…” She bowed her head and placed both hands over her chest. Then she looked up at him with a sad smile on her face. “...love you, Russel.”

The werewolf saw her standing there. He saw words form on her lips and knew she spoke something. The rush of the air moving so quickly past his ears, the thudding of his paws on the ground, the beating of his own heart, all came together to drown them out.

Then she spoke again, louder this time.

“Russel!” the human girl screamed.

The smell of her was rich and cloying now. Fear was mixed inside it too which only added to the werewolf’s bloodlust. It picked up speed.

“I love you!” she screamed out. “You hear me! And I know you…I know you won’t hurt me.”

Despite knowing she was about to be killed, Lola stood firm. Her chin rose and she kept her eyes on the werewolf.

She didn’t back down.