Shadowy Corners

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Dark Urban Fantasy: Sidetracked-Chapter 13

Still dazed and confused, Slim gazed blankly at Marcus as another swing of the bat whistled past their heads. The others began advancing on them. Marcus shook Slim.

“Snap out of it and call your dogs off!”

As if on cue, the clouds parted, and the full face of the moon beamed down upon them. Their attacker gasped and the bat fell from his hands, as the moonlight set off a metamorphosis in him. The others were similarly afflicted. Marcus grabbed the bat and jumped back, startled by the sudden audible cracking of their jaw bones and teeth elongating. He reflexively turned and ran, before the group began sprouting fur, pulling Slim along with him. A moment later, the wolf pack sent up a chilling howl. Marcus shouted at Slim.

“Call them off dammit!”

“They won’t listen to me, when they’re in that form. They’re basically wild animals now. As far as they are concerned, we’re prey,”

“Alright, then get us someplace safe. I’m not familiar with this neighborhood.”

“We’ve just got to get to the end of the next block,”

The sound of claws scraping pavement told them that the pack was sprinting after them. Several paces behind Marcus, Slim chanced a look over his shoulder and stumbled. In a flash, the pack leader leapt and took him down. Slim let out a startled scream and Marcus looked around, momentarily slowing his pace. The wolf’s forepaws were pinning Slim down by the chest, its enormous fangs inches away from Slim’s throat. Marcus was tempted to leave him to his fate. Slim had brought this consequence on himself, by inciting them to attack. Hadn’t he intended for them to kill Marcus? Slim was just getting what he deserved for his treachery…right?

In the next moment, Marcus’ vision was obscured by the furry body of another wolf advancing on him. How bizarre it was to see a creature with the head of a wolf, but the chest and hands of a man! It was running at him, upright on its hind legs like a man. Reflexively, Marcus swung the bat not wanting the freak of nature to touch him. It connected with the werewolf’s furry muzzle. Unfazed, the beast shook off the blow and came at him. Marcus forcefully hit it again, feeling his muscles strain with the effort, and felt gratified to see it fall to the ground seemingly unconscious.

Poised to strike another blow, Marcus saw a dark shape in his peripheral vision a split second before another werewolf tackled him. The bat flew out of his hands and skittered away in the darkness. Marcus quickly rolled onto his back, legs bent, allowing the werewolf to pounce on him. He triggered the automatic blades in the toes of his shoes and plunged them into the werewolf’s abdomen, allowing the creature’s weight to force the blades in deeper. Warm blood wet the legs of his jeans. Exhausted, Marcus lay there with the heavy body pressing down on his feet, forcing knees to chest.

Slim screamed and Marcus struggled to push the dying werewolf off of him. He had to roll onto his side and wait for the body to fall away. Marcus sat up, looking around for Slim. The agonized screaming abruptly stopped. Lying on the ground, in a circle of werewolves Slim’s body bucked and jerked as the pack leader’s teeth sank into his throat. Marcus leapt to his feet and ran at them, heedless of the danger to himself. Blinded by rage, he did not see what or who struck him on the back of the head. His buckling legs continued propelling him forward several steps, before he blacked out.

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