Hell's Army

Chapter Two- Friends.

The werewolf snarled, and the sound bounced around the room like the rumbling of a landslide. Saliva dripped from its fangs and its muscles bulged against the chains, shaking with anticipation.

"Hey, boy," Morganstone said evenly, but Ingleseid could hear the tremor creeping its way into her voice. "Hey. You're a good boy, aren't you? Easy. Easy."

She tiptoed towards it as its hulking body heaved, claws curling into the arms of the chair, snapping them like kindling. She whipped something out of her pocket, jabbed it into the werewolf's neck. It yelped, its eyes lolling into the back of its head as its claws slowly unfurled, hung limply against the chains. She put the needle back in her pocket.

Ingleseid decided that now would be the opportune time to leave. He turned for the door, crashed straight into the coffee table. It bounced to the ground with a 'thud!' The werewolf's head snapped up, yellow eyes narrowed.

Morganstone followed its gaze. "Who's there?" she demanded.

Ingleseid froze, and she pulled something out of her pocket, pointed it at him.

A gun.

"Okay," she whispered. The tremor had disappeared. Ingleseid got the impression that this was a woman who wasn't unused to pointing guns at people. "Here's how this is going to work. You don't appear on the count of three, and I'm gonna start tearing up every inch of this wall. What do you say? Feeling lucky?"

Ingleseid was not, in fact, feeling very lucky at all, but he didn't feel like mentioning that. Hands shaking, he inched towards the door as Morganstone muttered,

"One."

His hand curled around the doorknob.

"Two."

The gun gave a threatening click.

"Three."

Morganstone pointed, aimed, and-

The werewolf crashed into her like a train.

It slammed her against the tiles with an almighty roar, showering her with spittle. Her hand darted to the gun lying a few inches away. She brought it up as the werewolf raised a claw, shot it clean through the shoulder.

The sound of flesh bursting exploded through the room, and it gave a pain stricken howl and launched itself blindly against the wall. Its massive, furry head bounced off, and it snarled, sniffed at the air. It paused, and time seemed to stop as its yellow eyes slowly trained on Ingleseid.

It approached him cautiously on all fours, like an ape, and bent down until he could see himself in its giant, amber eyes. Hot breath tickled his chin. He could make out every on of its hairs prickling on its head. His breath screamed in his mouth, but he kept it clamped shut. His heart was ready to burst out of his chest. The werewolf took two wary steps back that shook the entire room, and for a second Ingleseid thought it was going to turn away, then it roared like a dragon, opened its mouth to reveal razor sharp teeth the size of daggers. Its head came crashing down, and this teeth glinted mercilessly and-

It slumped forward, crashing into Ingleseid like a brick wall. Black fur prickled against his skin and its chest rose and fell peacefully. He wriggled out from underneath it, spotted Morganstone a few feet away, holding a tranquiliser gun grimly. As he was just dislodging his ankle, the world faded to black, and he was enveloped in something soft and silky. He got unsteadily to his feet, tried to wrench the curtain off him, but a boot collided with his stomach. The air rushed out of him, and he came crashing to the ground. He could make out the inky silhouette of Morganstone above him.

"Wait," he breathed, but the boot came crashing down again, and the world melted away into a black void.

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