139

Third Person POV. 

*** Two A.M*** 

**In The Manor**

Augustine stirred from the cot he was lying on, wheezing calmly through his teeth. The infirmary was dead quiet and as for the guards keeping a close eye on him, they'd been knocked out. 

It took strenuous effort and days of planning for Augustine to pull this up. The werewolves must be joking if they thought letting them prevail was ever going to happen, Augustine thought as a smile plucked at his lips. 

He propped up from the cot, the chains binding his hands clattering briefly. It gladdened his heart to see the werewolf guards sprawled haphazardly on the floor, thanks to the Ramah leaves he spiked their water with. 

You see the adage: keep your friends close and your enemies closer? It was at this point that the adage made more sense to Augustine. He was happy the werewolves kept him closer, closer than they thought. 

With the chains on his wrists clattering and a dark grin on his face, he walked over to the table cluttered with volumetric flasks and burettes, his eyes searching for the concentrated acid. Augustine's eyes gleamed as he took in the steaming content on the table.  

Teeth gnashed, he pulled his hands up and settled the chains over the volumetric flask. As the chains made contact with the acid, a hissing sound whispered across the hushed room. Augustine smiled more, glowing with victory as the acid ate away at the once resilient chains that had him bound since his return to Oakdale. 

The potent scent of noxious fumes saturated the air, spurring Augustine to release some coughs. His heart roared, so deafening to his ears. Under the corrosive power of the acid, the metal sagged and weakened. No longer strong enough to keep Augustine captive. 

He reared back, admiring the works of his hand as he cracked his neck and rubbed at his sore wrists. 

Inhaling a long string of breath, he kicked into action. Sauntering over to the guards, he snagged the keys to the dungeon where the werewolves had kept the Slayers. 

Augustine first of all snaked into the pantry where he saw the wolves stashing the weapons with silver away and he grabbed as much as he could and sneaked out through the back door. 

The manor lay quiet in the arms of the night air and Augustine deemed it the best time to strike the enemies. As he blended with the shadows, his fast legs led him into the woods where the dungeon was. 

Fortunately, there were no guards in sight. He approached the metal door that stood at the entrance, the door Logan had his men put in place, and Augustine slid in the key. 

The metal door squeaked as its lock yielded. The hinges groaned while he forced himself in through the small space. 

Once inside, the putrid smell that filled the dungeon attacked his nostrils, the smell of blood, death, pee, and feces.  

The last odor, Augustine concluded, was from the Slayers. He could hear their restless snores from where he stood, and letting that guide him, he went in search of them. 

In the nick of time, Augustine saw the men, Hanks, Ford, and Fell as they perched over the walls in the inner chamber. 

"Masters..." Augustine called. 

His gravelly voice had them stirring. Their weak eyes ran through his body as he bowed. 

"Augustine," Hanks called out, his voice enveloped with hope as he propped up to his feet. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hanks, that could be another phantom! There's no way we're getting out of here, ever..." Ford slurred, his head flailing. 

"Don't be a fool! This is Augustine!" Hanks roared, slapping his fellow. That slap, though barely harsh, was enough to pull Ford from whatever dream he was having. The three of them had been dreaming of Sinai bursting in to save them. 

They had never thought about Augustine until now, and that bloomed Hanks' heart with joy. 

"Masters, we've to leave, to strike now their guards are down. That way you can regain all you've lost." Augustine hummed. 

Oh, those words, how long I've desired to hear them! Mr. Hanks thought to himself. 

"You've done well, son," He jerkily patted Augustine on the shoulder. 

Fell and Ford found their footing as Augustine led them away from their dungeon. They stunk so bad but the need to fight to take back what belonged to them overrode all else. 

They gathered under a tree as Augustine shared the silver weapons with them. 

"I'll kill those fuckers, they'll beg for mercy..." Hanks growled. 

"They'll pay for killing my dear, Grant!" Ford hummed, clasping his gun. 

"And our precious Sinai!" Fell heaved. 

Faces strung with determination, they marched toward the manor. They all sneaked into the manor, walking surreptitiously over to the guards dozing by the door. 

Augustine snaked up behind them and quietly, he tackled the men with his arm over their necks, cutting off their airflow enough to render them helpless before the Slayers could step forward, either shooting the silencer gun or pulling out the hearts of the wolves. 

In that manner, they carried out the carnage until they made an entree into the sitting room. 

*

*

*

Sleep had slipped through Rain's fingers after having those drinks with Logan and the rest. All the while she returned to the room with Logan, she'd only be tossing on the bed. 

Now, her throat was parched and she needed a drink of water. Rain surreptitiously got off the bed and ventured to the door, fluttering it open. She stepped out into the hall and only moved three steps when chills filled her body. 

She stalled, listening in. Footsteps were echoing silently yet Riot picked up on it. She heard a doorknob creak as it was being pulled open. Then came the shriek of a woman. 

"No...please..." 

That was when Rain confirmed something was wrong in the manor. Listening in the direction of the noise, it dawned on her it was coming from Irene's room. 

"Do not scream," Growled a man's voice but Irene's voice still rattled across the mansion. 

"THE SLAYERS!!!!!" 

At that, Rain's demeanor changed. Her lycan's blood lust that she'd been ignoring came more forcefully and then Riot shoved forward, taking over Rain's human body. 

As Riot took over completely, her voice thundered. 

"AWOL!!!!" 

It was a cry of alarm. A cry of vengeance. With that, she leaped away, hunting the bane of her existence- the Slayers.

***

The once quiet manor suddenly transformed into a den of chaos as the werewolves rushed out of their rooms, taking on the Slayers. 

The guns forcefully took on the wolves once the Slayers shot at them. They ripped out hearts and tore into the souls of the wolves. 

Their eyes shone with the need for revenge and blood lust. The women were massacred. The children slain. 

Logan could barely grasp what was happening. He saw his father fighting off the Slayers while ducking as they shot. His beta was out as well and so was Tiago. The people they had intended to kill at dawn had taken them all by surprise. 

Boom!!! 

The grenade exploded and the ground shook, rattling everyone that was near. The walls gave out as shards of dust and debris encased a half part of the manor. 

Women screamed, and children cried. The men fighting slumped down dead instantly. 

"No!!! Ahhhh!!!" Logan growled, his eyes searching for his mate and father. 

"Father!!!!" He thundered when he saw his father trying to crawl away from the ceiling that fell onto him. With a fierce grip, Logan pulled his father away from the ceiling. Sparks oozing from the fallen chandelier. 

"Hercules..." His father smiled at him wearily. "We've to stop this crime, son." He panted. 

"No, my men and I will fight. You'll stay here and wait for me until we're done...do you hear me?" He roared, earning a nod from his father. 

Instantly, Logan pulled him into the kitchen, letting him hide behind the Island and then he sped out to fight. 

Logan shifted, his wild eyes searching for the Slayers. The moment he saw Augustine butchering a woman as he separated her heart from her body, Logan pounced on Augustine with a lethal growl. 

Shooting out his claws, he slashed it through Augustine from behind. 

"Ahh," Augustine froze and gurgled over the blood sprouting from his mouth. Not giving him any chance, Logan struck out again, pulling out a huge part of Augustine's flesh. 

Blood flowed, spurting over Logan's face as Augustine whirled around and met his furious gaze. 

Logan took pleasure in sinking his claws into Augustine's eye and plucking it out. The small round ball rolled on the ground as Augustine yelled. 

Half-shifting, Logan cursed at Augustine and plucked out his heart. The organ trembling in his massive-claw-like hand. 

Body twitching, Logan ventured further, looking for the rest. 

In Irene's room, Riot shoved in, lingering at the door as Mr. Fell sank his gun into the woman's sex, plundering her after rendering her immobile on the bed with silver bullets. 

"Bastard cunts! That's what your kind are!" Fell roared into Irene's face as the woman cried while he battered her sex with the gun's muzzle. Blood splurged, splattering over his face. 

"Your kind are meant to be beneath us!" He leaned Into her face, roaring as he licked the blood that dribbled onto his lips. 

Seeing that reminded Rain of what she passed through in their hands. It immobilized her for a moment. Fear for the man enveloping her. Riot knew what the silver bullet could do to her and it made her stall. 

But when Irene's eyes managed to latch her on hers, Rain knew the woman was calling onto her for help. The woman looked up to her as her Luna, and as a Luna, she was meant to protect her. Meant to shove her fear aside and fight. 

At that, Riot forged ahead while Fell basked in the feel of his revenge, and without mercy, Riot sent her spiked tail through the man's legs, knocking him to the floor. 

"Ugh!!!" Fell gasped when he saw Riot. The lycan had rage in her eyes and death in her claws as she circled around him. 

All Rain could remember was how the men took advantage of her with no mercy. They made her a toy. Ridiculed her and now she was about to get her revenge.

"Please...don't..." Fell tried to please as Riot stepped her massive paws over his groin, crushing his member into pieces. 

Fell roared as pain sang through his veins. He tried to crawl away. To flee but Riot pounced over his back, sinking her sharp claws from his back until she crushed his heart into pieces. 

Bliss echoed through her veins as she watched the once glorious man lying in the pool of his filthy blood. 

"Oh...oh...., my luna!" Irene yelped as she rushed to Riot, bowing with a trembling body before her. 

Outside, alpha Yazi wobbled as the fight proceeded all around him. He stuck to Logan's instruction not to join the fight but he heard someone staggering towards his direction. Alpha Yazi sneaked a peak, surprised to see Hanks coming towards him. 

Confused about what to do, the alpha stood up, gazing at Hanks. Hanks didn't give him any chance as he squeezed out three shuts of the bullets but fortunately, the alpha ducked.

He began to remember how his relationship with the slayers started. Their penetration into his pack. Their traitorous acts about kidnapping his people to experiment on them. The treaty they'd signed for peace to reign. 

All that and yet the Slayers were not satisfied. Alpha Yazi cursed the day he signed that treaty. If he had known, violence would've been the best alternative. 

Angered, he roared and darted toward Hanks. 

His massive form fell upon Hanks, toppling him to the ground.

"Ahhh!!" Hanks bellowed as did Yazi. 

"Niagra!" Alpha Yazi cursed. All he could see was red. The loss of his mate and family brimmed his mind as he ladled out punches on Hanks' face. "YOU FOOLED ME!!" 

A punch! 

The sound of bones cracking vibrated.

"YOU KILLED MY MATE!" 

Another dangerous punch. Blood seeped from The split wounds on Hanks' face. The gun had slipped from his hand, rendering him powerless. 

"YOU HELD ME HOSTAGE FOR TWO HUNDRED YEARS!!!" 

That was the last stroke that opened alpha Yazi's dam of rage and within three seconds he had unleashed two hundred punches that had Hanks' face jagged and messed up like a pumpkin pulp. You'd hardly discern the eyes from the nose. 

Hanks' convulsed as Logan darted back into the kitchen bearing Ford's head in his hand. The head slipped from his hand as he saw his father still punching Hanks' dead body, howling in bitterness over all the things they took from him. The things that mattered the most. 

His family. 

When he felt Logan's hand on his back, he broke down more as he hugged his son. 

"It's okay, father. You still have me here and I vow not to go anywhere," Logan vowed, hugging his father.

"Oh, Hercules..." He murmured with a voice clogged with tears. "You mend my broken heart, son. Thank you." 

TBC.