He stood up from the stool; his eyes peering hard at her and her nostrils caught the smell of a dog with wet fur. There was something feral and dangerous about him. Something animal-like. It was strange to think that way of a man and yet she was certain of this.
She dragged her eyes to the other man. If he was aware of what was going on, he did not even show it. He was concentrating hard on the drink before him. She studied the two men closely. Surely! There was something awfully dreadful about these two....... She was certain of it now.
He must have sensed her fear because he was smiling at her sardonically but that smile did not even ease off the menacing expression on his face.
“So you are not such a toughie are ya?” he was obviously enjoying himself. “Tell you what, why don’t you and me go back out there and talk things over?”
“No!” Selena said breathlessly. Her voice was low but strong.
“No?” he growled at her and she caught a whiff of that animal scent again. “What the hell do you mean by that?” his eyes had become two bright sparks of yellow bulbs.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” She said shakily, hating the sudden fear in her voice. “Leave me alone!”
“And if I don’t?” Conan fired back. “Hey listen, I hate tough girls. Never liked ‘em. You do as I say or I’ll break every damn bone in your body,”
“Do as he says,” Helldog, who had been quiet the whole time, said. “Conan has a way of getting things his way especially with women.” His voice was low and unfeeling. He took off his hat and looked at her.
Selena dragged her eyes to his face and at once regretted it. In contrast to Conan's yellow, amber eyes, Helldog’s eyes were the color of a scorching sun. He had a narrow, pinched face which looked like a dry skull, thin, small lips, and cold, frightening burning eyes that stared right into her with painful intensity.
Selena shivered again and quickly looked back at Conan.
“I don’t want any trouble with you guys,” she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. “Please just leave me alone.”
Conan sniggered. He was looking at her the way a snake would look at a trapped weasel.
“You are coming with me honey,” He smiled, revealing, strong, dirty, razor edged teeth. “Let’s go back. You will enjoy it, I promise you.” and he gripped her arms and his hands digging into her felt like steel hooks. She whimpered out in pain but he ignored her.
He jerked her off the stool and peered into her face. “You and I are going to have a nice time!” the thick smell of tobacco and tequila fanned across her face.
Irritated and filled with disgust, Selena tried to throw his hands off her but she found out that she was no match for him. She looked into his eyes. She could see he was dead serious about what he intended to do to her. There was no question about that. Fear like the slow thrust of a knife began to enter her body.
Sam, who had been watching the whole thing, bent down, rifled through the counter top shelf and brought out a sawed off shot-gun. He aimed the gun at the head of Conan.
“Let go of her! Or I’ll blow your head clean off,” he growled, gripping the gun tightly in his hands, his old leather face, tired but determined.
Conan, still holding Selena, turned his head slowly to look at Sam. Seeing the gun pointed at him, he grinned wickedly.
“What are you doing, old timer fooling around with a piece like that?” he jeered, his yellow eyes regarding the gun in Sam’s hands shrewdly. “This is not your show. Quit fooling around with that piece or you are also gonna get it” the threat in his voice was profound.
“Let go of her, mister! Or so help me God, I’ll put these slugs into you!” Sam gritted out. “I’m warning you, mister! Let go of that lad.” there was a menacing expression in his eyes now and in that moment, Selena became aware of two things simultaneously; that Sam had come to her rescue - as she had always believed he would - and how much the old man loved her. That instant, her love for him tripled.
“What do you say?” Sam yelled, waving the gun at Conan' face.
“Don’t!” Helldog said simply.
Sam froze. He swung to Helldog. “What do you say?”
“I said don’t start what you can finish,” Helldog said from his seat. “Conan will break you like a goddamned stick!”
Sam's jaw dropped. There was rising panic on his face as he held the shotgun. Something about Helldog frightened him. He licked his lips with his tongue hastily.
“And if I refuse to listen to you?” He croaked.
“Then you’ll regret your action!” Helldog said simply. “Conan wants her. When Conan wants something he gets it! I said what I said,” he still did not move.......he only sat there, on the stool, his head bent, twiddling the drink in his hand. He did not even look at Sam all the time he had been talking. His air of aloofness threw a load of scare into Sam.
At that moment, the uncertainty on his face showed greatly and it hurt Selena’s heart to see the poor, old man this way. God! How could she have gotten him into this, she thought, desperately and she bit hard into her bottom lips until she tasted blood.
Suddenly, the bar door jerked open with a loud kick and a young man stepped into the room.
All the patrons, Sam, Conan and Selena swung around in terrifying shock to look at the intruder who stood at the entrance. Even Helldog turned around in his seat.
A look of recognition appeared on Selena’s face when she saw him.
The young man, barely twenty-three or twenty-four, stood tall at over six feet, with broad shoulders. He was powerfully built. With thick, wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes, he exuded an air of ruggedness. Clad in all black - a leather jacket, tight pants, and sturdy boots - he looked every bit the enigmatic figure. Strapped to him were an array of weapons: blades, knives, a chromium crossbow, a small ax, and a formidable sword with a gleaming silver hilt. In his hands, he held a stainless steel gun, its polished surface reflecting the light above. Holstered at his hips were two gleaming pistols and a roll of shiny wires, each with jagged silver blades. His handsome face twisted in a lines of disgust and anger, marking him as a man of action, ready for whatever came his way.
“You filthy animal! I can smell you from a mile off!” he bawled. He cocked the gun in his hand roughly and the sound rolled around the room. “I’m gonna fix you motherfuckers!”
At first, Conan stood there like a stone, regarding the stranger bewilderedly. Then a look of recognition appeared on his face. His eyes widened in alarm, then twisted to deep savage hatred.
“You smell like a wolf hunter!” he growled, his voice shaking the room.“Helldog! Trouble is here! Fucking here!” and he shoved Selena away from him.
Still distracted by the presence of the man at the door, Selena thudded to the floor caught off guard. She yelled as she landed on her back. Wincing with pain, she raised herself up, still perplexed by the whole commotion around her. Just then, she began to hear a low, thick growling beside her, the kind of sound an angry, wild dog makes when it wants to attack you. Startled, she raised her head. What she saw made cold fear clutched at her heart. It was Conan who was making the sound all right. But he wasn’t only making the sound.
Something else was also happening; something terrifying and violently bizarre.
Conan was opening his mouth menacingly, revealing his teeth; It was actually fangs! Dirty, long, razor-like fangs. His clothes were ripping furiously off – she could hear it tore savagely – from his body. His face was expanding and contracting.......filling out.......thick long hair were beginning to spring out from his face, neck and body. His ears flattened back. His tongue lolled. Long, claw-like nails began to shoot out from his hands. His body was getting bigger and bigger, just the way a balloon fills out when you blow air into it.
The whole transformation was happening fast; too damn fast!