Selena sat there like a hypnotized ferret.
She could not move. She wanted to scream but her throat was paralyzed. Her body was loaded with terror. She began to tremble as she watched the monstrosity that was unfolding right in front of her own eyes. She had never seen anything like this before and nothing in this world could have prepared her from what she was seeing. One moment she was staring at a human and the next, she was looking at the biggest wolf she had ever seen.
She shrieked; a high piercing sound; her voice sounded like someone who had lost a leg. It was her scream that jolted the men who were also looking transfixed at the unthinkable transformation, out of their stupendous, bewilderment.
They all joined her in screaming.
They scampered off their seats as if hot pepper had suddenly been crammed up their asses, yelling, scrambling, and running around the room like frightened rats; some ran towards the entrance, others scrambled frantically for places to hide. They ran, fell, picked themselves up, ran and fell again.
It was a bedlam: the whole room had turned into a complete madhouse.
Conan, now turned full wolf, leaped onto the countertop, raised his furry face to the ceilings, spread out his arms, his claw-like fist clenched and a cold cloud of breath wisp out of his mouth as he let out a terrifying, bellowing growl that rolled around the room and shook the hinges of the windows and doors. Then he looked down at the man, his massive chest rising and falling heavily. He let out another angry, defiant growl and charged off the counter top with a powerful, striking momentum.
The young man with the big, silver gun, his name was Caesar, saw the werewolf charging at him at a great, violent speed. He stood there like a sculpture, the expression on his face, unperturbed. He was not even bothered. He knew that Conan was one of those aggressive Beta, and for Caesar, an aggressive Beta was an easy kill. He raised the gun, nestling it comfortably into the hollow of his shoulders, his head, half-cocked along the barrel. Just as the werewolf was about to get him, he swore under his breath, his finger closed around the trigger then he fired at the charging wolf.
The gun went off! The noise traveled away like bowling balls, stiffening the ears of the men as it banged around the room.
The charging Conan saw the gun go off and leaped reflexively onto the opposite wall. The bullet hit the window. The window blows inward in a shimmering of broken glasses, letting in the January, howling, gust wind.
Caesar had missed!
Conan released another great yell, bared his dirty, menacing fangs and pounced off the wall, his deadly fingers outstretched. Caesar began to fire rapidly, an expression of murder on his face. Conan swerved and began to leap from walls to walls, dodging bullets and leaving a plaster of walls riddled with bullets behind him. The bullets hit another window again. Glasses shattered in flying deadly arrows, each of them revealing Caesar’s face, Conan and the rest of the frightened, running men.
Caesar ran out of bullets. He cursed loudly, threw the gun to a corner of the room and brought out his crossbow.
Conan saw this. This was the best chance for him to strike. He came rushing at Caesar, a glint of murder in his yellow, blazing eyes.
Caesar, with hands clammy with sweats, reached for his crossbow, fixed it and was just in time to see the beast coming at him with violent alacrity.
Conan got to him first. He raised his deadly paws and slashed. Reflexively, Caesar dived to a corner of the room. He had missed the beast crushing blow by just a sheer chance.
Conan let out an angry, pained yell. He was actually angry that he had missed Caesar twice. A third must never happen. So he came charging again; his eyes fearsome and mad.
However, Caesar was prepared. He rolled to a corner of the room, lifted himself up, aimed at Conan and fired. One of the arrows hit the beast on its shoulders. He yelled. Another hits him on the chest, slashing through the massive chest and protruding out of his back. Conan let out an ear piercing guttural cry and dropped to the floor as if pole-axed. He lay on the floor, spread eagled, like a man nailed to the cross. He was shrieking. His lips pulled off his teeth, his hands pressing into his wounded chest.
Caesar's face was cold and expressionless as he approached the wounded werewolf with slow, deliberate steps. Conan, injured and helpless, saw him coming, knowing the hunter intended to finish him off for good. They shouldn't have come to this part of town, Conan realized. It was a mistake, and now he was paying for it alone; Helldog, his brother, was nowhere to be seen. As he lay there, the pain throbbing from his arrow wounds, he wondered desperately where his brother could be and why he had left him to face this killer alone.
Caesar got to Conan and smirked. He watched as Conan slowly began to change; the roughened, thick furs on his face and body, seemed to be pulling in, the huge paws, with their evil looking claws on his hands and feet, were unbelievably transforming to fingernails. The lips, pulled off his teeth in a snarl of rage, relaxed gently back to its normal shape. While watching all these, he patiently brought out a pack of cigarettes from his pockets, lit it, drew in smoke downstairs and blew it through the corners of his mouth. He glanced at Conan now. He was back to his human state. He lay sprawled out on the ground, naked, moaning and shuddering. Blood continued to pour from his chest.
“I warned you and your folks that I don’t wanna see your kind in my town. Now you’ve got to pay the price for your insolence.”
Wincing with pain in his own pool of blood, Conan slowly half started up, thought better about it and fell back. He looked up at Caesar, his face a mask of hate and death.
“Fuck you!” he gasped.” You can’t stop us!” he pointed a trembling gnarled finger at Caesar. “You are a dead man! A dead one.”
“Yeah I know!” Caesar replied. “But that doesn’t explain why your brother left you to fight a fur hunter. Look around!” his eyes swept the disarray room maliciously. “I can’t seem to find the scaredy-cat anywhere. Your cowardly bloody brother left you to die!” he was grinning wickedly now.
A wicked glint jumped into Conan's dying eyes.
“Helldog has his way of doing things,” he said, his voice shaking with rage and disappointment. “He’s a little crazy in the head. But he is no coward! Your days are numbered, fur hunter! Mark my words.”
“Look at you!” Caesar said, smiling bitterly. “You should see yourself. You look like shit!”
Conan grinned, flashing his blood stained teeth.
“You don’t exactly look like a modeling ad, fur hunter.”
Caesar’s face hardened.
“You talk a lot for a dead man.” he said through locked teeth.
Conan shook his head miserably.
“Yeah. I’m a dead man alright. I know that. Here’s what you don’t know: More of me are still coming! More than you can imagine,” he rasped. It was taking him a lot of pain and guts to say those words and yet, he continued, rambling on, wanting to inflict more pain as possible. “This is our town! This town belongs to us! You took it from us! And that’s why we are going to take over this town! We are going to own it! We’ll come for your precious women and their children and ripped their fucking hearts out! We’ll take their husbands and make them widows! Mark my words,” exasperated, he fell back to the ground, coughing out blood.
Caesar’s face twisted with anger.
“You bloody animals!” he looked mad now, really mad. “I won’t allow you to do that! Over my fucking dead body. You wanna die huh? Huh? you got it!” and cursing under his breath, he swung out his sword. He moved over to Conan, pulled him up by his hair and with the skill of an experienced swordsman, he viciously chopped off Conan’s head with a powerful swipe.
There was the sound of a cracked bone in the room as the head violently went off the neck to a corner of the room.
Caesar grinned devilishly. His body was trembling; not with fatigue but with excitement; the thrill of the kill. Behind him, he heard someone gasping and swung around. Selena was standing behind him, her eyes, bulging out of its sockets, were filled with shocking terror. The sadistic expression in his face disappeared instantly.
“My love!” He said, grinning at her. “Don’t be frightened! He can’t hurt you now. Not anymore!” He moved towards her, took her in arms, and began to stroke her fear stricken body.
But Selena was still bamboozled by the whole carnage. She remained stiff in his arms like a doll, her eyes round with fear, her mouth gaping open in wonderment as she stared at the decapitated body of the wasted Conan.
“Did...you....Did you....cut,” she babbled, trembling in his arms.
“Hush now, love! Hush! Don’t talk about it,” he said hastily, cradling her face in his callused hands and then looking into her face. “He’s dead. Gone like a dead pig. I did what I had to do. Don’t worry about it alright?” This was the first time he was seeing Selena this way and the whole thing puzzled him. Yet inwardly, it sweetened him. So you are not so tough are you?, He thought, pleasure surging through him. Who would have thought this day would come huh? Who would have thought about it, Selena?
“But.....but....you killed him....” Selena rambled on, her eyes still focusing on the dead body. “You killed a man! Like...Like....an animal.” her voice was shaking violently.
“Hey!Hey!Hey!” Caesar shouted into her face, irritated by the blank, horrified look on it. “Look! I did what had to be done alright. It had to be done! And I did it! So pull yourself together! And stop this nonsense.” His face was a shade of purple red.
“No! No!” I can’t stand this! I can’t!” Selena wailed, pounding frantically at his chest with her fists. Then feeling suddenly ashamed under the eyes of some of the men who had lingered back, she pushed away from his body, put her hands to her mouth as if to hold back the coming screams and ran out of the bar.
Caesar watched her, his handsome face twisted with raw anger.
“You should learn to control your temper when you are with her,” Sam said in a low voice.
Caesar turned around and saw the old man standing there, his gun still In his hands, his face, old and weary but determined. An evil glint settled into his eyes. He hated Sam and his hatred showed greatly on his face.