Two can be as bad as one

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3 Years Ago, somewhere in Romania.

Hellboy ducks the swing of a werewolf, narrowly avoiding its claws. As he rose to his full height, he swung upward with his right fist, smashing into the jaw of the monster and throwing it backwards and through the wall of a ruined cottage.

Hellboy stood, glaring into the shadows of the cottage. His overcoat was ripped along his left sleeve, and his jeans were so torn that they looked like shorts now. His bare chest had several large gashes across it. He was glad he hadn't worn his shirt for this mission.

"That all you got fleabag?" The half-demon taunted. "Because I can do this all ni-." He is silenced by the werewolf, tackling him to the ground after leaping from the shadows of the ruins. Its claws dug into his shoulders as it pinned him to the ground. Its jaw was slack, clearly broken from the last strike. Even with a hanging jaw, the werewolf snarled at the investigator trying to bite his throat out of instinct. Hellboy gripped at its throat with his stone hand, stopping any attempt at biting, even with a broken jaw. His left hand was occupied, trying to remove one of the werewolf's claws out of his left shoulder.

"Ew! Stop slobbering on me, you disgusting -." Hellboy doesn't finish as the werewolf throws him into the middle of a dark street. He had assumed the town was abandoned, its inhabitants just up and leaving the place, but after finding dog breath over here? He was having second thoughts.

"Alright, I've had about enough of this." He growled to himself.

As the werewolf leapt again, Hellboy delivered a right-handed hammer fist strike to the top of its head. The werewolf let out a dog like whimper at the strike as it skid along the ground, carried by its own momentum. It got up in a frenzied haze, its head whipping from side to side, trying to find its assailant. The streets were empty. But it could hear a commotion coming from one of the buildings, but the echo across the empty town did not make it easy to find the exact location.

"From the top rope!" A voice echoed, the werewolf barely having time to turn around before the right elbow of the half demon met the back of its head after having leapt from a roof behind the werewolf, taking both of them to the ground.

"Always wanted to do that." Hellboy said mirthfully to himself as he stood, dusting his legs off with his hands. The werewolf was less amused as it slashed at Hellboy, leaving several deep cuts across his cheek.

"Ow! You lousy mutt!" Hellboy reeled back his right hand, in no mood for any more theatrics and threw it forward into the muzzle of the werewolf, throwing it backwards down the street into, what Hellboy assumed, was the town centre if the decrepit water fountain the werewolf crashed into was a give any indication. As the werewolf began to stand, Hellboy loaded his last silver bullet into his oversized hand cannon.

"Alright, Fido, it's either here or at the vet and between you and me? I ain't paying that much to put a mutt like you down, " Hellboy growled, taunting the werewolf by curling and uncurling his stone index finger in a 'come and get me' display. The werewolf charged with a snarl, slashing at Hellboy. Each attack was met with Hellboys stone forearm. He just had to find the right moment... Now! As the werewolf took a swipe with its right claws, Hellboy parried them across the werewolfs body, giving him enough time to deliver a right handed body check into the creature's stomach, folding it over itself as it tried to regain its breath. It was given no reprieve as the paranormal investigator brought his fist down in an overhand punch, sending the creature to the ground in a daze.

Hellboy took aim with his gun. "Bad dog." He growled as he fired into the heart of the werewolf. As the werewolf lies dead, its whines dying with it, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. An empty town, a werewolf, no signs of attack or struggle. Something wasn't adding up. This thing was savage. It didn't strike him as the tidiest eater. Yet there were no signs of gore.

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