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Third Person POV. 

The metal bars jangled as Mr. Ford rushed towards it, trying to flutter it open. The others stood behind him, tensed as Riot shoved forward. All baser instincts. Nothing that reeked of Rain's human side remained. 

"Fucking open the door!!!" Mr. Grant wailed. 

Hands shaking, the door suddenly seemed too hard to push open. Curses spilled from Ford's mouth as he fumbled with the locks. 

"Awolllll!!!!" Riot saw darkness, spurred by anger and revenge.

Immediately after that growl, announcing her presence, she struck!!! 

Long, spiked tail swept through the air, striking the Slayers. 

Eyes wide, mouth dropped open in fear, the men buckled and fell face flat on the ground with a heart-stopping thud. Winces and sputtered words of anger reverberated across the room, coming from them.

"Fucking Christ!!!" Mr. Fell bolted up, his midriff ripped open and blood fell alongside his bowels. "Fucking fuck! Hanks. Fuck Hankson, my belly. Oh shitttt...." His words dulled to a slur as he crawled to the door. 

The others tossed on the ground. Their consciousness blurred by the pain slicing through them. 

"Ahhhh!!! Ohhhh!!!" Mr. Hanks wailed, tumbling and tossing on the ground as his head which had hit at the foot of the cot banged. 

Riot stood over them, panting. Her maw slid open, dribbles of saliva raining down. 

"The fucking bitch has hurt me!!" Mr. Ford yelled, cradling his wounded leg. 

Fell still crawled to the door, coughs escaping the dregs of his throat with blood. Pains blinded him.

He reached for the door, scrambling to lay a hold on it.

"The guards! We gotta call the guards!" Mr. Grant nagged amid tears. It was as if his wound was worse. One of his balls had been ripped open by the thorns on Rain's tail. 

The fucking thorns! He cursed and panted. None of the men were stable enough to help each other. 

Riot felt the numb bliss of the first attack ladled out on the vile men. 

She heaved a growl again and pounced. She dug her paws sharp with long nails over the men. Stepping on them. 

The sharp paws buried deep into their skin. So deep, their sharp cries flew out of the basement to the rest of the house. 

"Nooooo!!!! Guards!! Fucking guards!!!" Mr. Hanks cried as Riot's paws dug into his chest, almost ripping his heart out. 

The sound of panting breaths resounded amid the chaos. Fell rattled the door while holding his bowels from spilling out. His bloodied eyes looked between the lock and the fierce Lycan. 

Warbled cries filed out. Shallow yet no less intense. 

Amid the panic, he finally managed to tug the door open. A watery smile broke his lips apart at the swift victory. 

However, when Riot noticed he was trying to escape, she lurched at him. Paw raised to smack him off his feet but the ratata of gunshot echoed. 

Surprise flashed through the lycan's amber eyes. She veered her gaze in the direction and saw men trooping in with guns raised. 

Riot stumbled as the first few bullets burrowed into her veins. Growling, she fell over Mr. Fell's body lying shakily in the doorway of the cell. 

The man groaned, feeling the spikes on the lycan's body nicking his skin.

"Get off!! Get....her...off...me!!" He roared, tears spilling down. 

The guards slid into action, hurrying to help the Slayers.

A string of pained grunts ricocheted as they rolled over the floor, wounded and bloodied. 

"Oh, my balls!! My fucking balls!!! Dang it, it hurts!!!!!" Mr. Grants cried, body caved in as he cupped his hand over his balls. Literal tears found their way out of his eyes. 

Hanks could not talk. He only twirled and moaned in pain. 

The guards pushed Riot away from Fell's body and she groaned in pain, her half-open eyes finally slid shut. 

With speed, they took Riot into the cell and bound her with chains over the wall. Then they fell back to help the Slayers. 

The Slayers all cried like children as they carried them away from the basement. The sound of their tears grating on the nerves. 

"Ahh! What happened to them?" Mrs. Sinai rushed into the room and found the men bloodied and wounded. 

The guards quickly explained the ordeal to her, making the woman stand aghast, watching her masters. 

She knew nothing could be done except seeing a doctor. At that, she reached out to the only person she knew, Augustine. 

Though he was a scientist, he might still know how to handle such wounds since he was the one who treats any wounded werewolf in the dungeon. 

Once Augustine got the call, he promised to be on his way to Seychelles along with his prototype wolves and the Fomorrh, just in case Rain's lycan went berserk again.

Ending the call, Sinai awaited as the men rolled on the bed, staining the sheets with their blood while wailing.. 

*

*

*

"Ahh!!!" The dull groan escaped Rain's lips. She felt the tautness of her muscles. It was so strung tight, bringing her pain. 

When she tried to move, chains rattled, surprising her. 

What are those chains? She wondered. 

With effort, she swung her heavy eyes open and took in her surroundings. 

Blood littered the ground. A dried straight line of blood dribbled from the foot of the cot to the ground. 

"What happened?" She wondered. A strange wave of dizziness crept in, roiling her stomach. 

At that wave of nausea that crawled through her, she bent over and vomited. Her stomach was empty so what was making her nauseous? 

And whose blood are those? 

Nothing made sense to her. 

Her mind was blurred, she could barely think. 

While darting her eyes around, they landed on the chains binding her wrists. Silver chains. 

No wonder she was weak like a straw. Those vile men put on Silver chains!!!? 

Her heart roared, anger surging. She bucked against the chains but it only brought her a myriad of pain.

Her eyes were wet with tears. It enraged her that putting her in such a confined space wasn't enough for them. 

Now, they've locked her up in silver chains. 

Weakness bled into her veins, she winced. 

The moment she saw dried blood buried deep into her fingers, it all dawned on her what had occurred. 

She lost herself to rage and Riot emerged. Her lycan had wrecked havoc on the lives of the Slayers. 

Now that she thought about it, she felt an innate string of satisfaction. But only briefly.

Rain wanted to ruin their lives. Make breathing impossible for them all. 

She gave her thoughts a pause at the sound of footfalls and braced. 

"Ohhhh, finally. The wild one has awoken." Her eyes widened at the sight of Mr. Hanks standing before the door with bandages wrapped around his head. 

Ahh, she must have bruised him really badly. The thought of it had her snickering. 

"You find humor in what you did?" He rasped, his body quaking. 

"No. I only blame myself for not inflicting more injuries. Say "crush your legs so you can't work again." She sniggered, much to Mr. Hanks's displeasure." 

"I'll make you pay for what you've done!!" He growled. 

"Come on, bring it on, daddy. Let's see who'll survive!" She threatened regardless of the consuming fear she felt. "I promise you that this time...it's going to be a lot more deep." 

"So, leaving us bedridden for three days isn't enough for you...?" He said. 

Rain was surprised to hear she had been knocked out for three days. 

"You know what? It'll bring me so much joy to see your plans fail, Rain. I shall see to it and believe me when I say it."

Mr. Hanks gloated from behind the doors. 

"A few more nights, Rain and all this will be over. Prepare yourself!!" 

He stormed away after that, leaving Rain a quivering mess. The wave of nausea returned forcefully and then she doubled over and vomited. 

She heaved a breath, pondering what was happening to her. Yet no answer came.

Why so much dizziness? 

Why so much nausea?

:

TBC.