Running With The Wolves | Baskerville High Chronicles

Werewolf vs Witch

Already the pharmacy's customers were flocking outside to see the commotion.

The boy, Tyrone, didn't even spare the gathering witnesses a glance. His gaze was firmly on the woman who was gently getting out of the dent her body made. As she planted her feet on the ground, her black circled eyes met his.

"Conas a n-éireoidh leat ag dul isteach ann!"she spat. "Is é toil Hugo Baskerville é," he shot back, emphasizing his grandfather's name. "Leanaim toil do athair," she sneered, her hands already crackling with streaks of reddish light. "Tá a thoil mícheart. Tá a fhios ag mo sheanathair é sin, mar sin sheol sé mé chun é a chosc," he told her.

"Ná déan mé duitse a bhualadh," she warned. Tyrone crouched on his hands and feet. "Ansin seas anuas," he argued. "Ní féidir liom," she answered sharply. He exhaled. "Ansin caithfimid troid."

The woman pushed out her hands causing reddish lightning to spread out haphazardly. The watching bystanders, alarmed, began fleeing to the pharmacy but ended up getting hit and frozen in place.

Next, she whispered something as she rose a few centimeters off the ground. Thunder rumbled loudly as she stretched her hands to the ground and oddly moved her fingers. That instant, red outlined pipes and rebar erupted from the concrete.

But Tyrone easily dodged all the projectiles much to the woman's frustration.

So she stretched her hands to the heavens and chanted: "Ó Mháthair an Dúlra, éist le glaoch na caillí seo, cabhraigh liom an buachaill conriochta seo a chur de dhroim seoil!"

Mud bubbled from the openings in the concrete and formed into a few large, humanoid mounds with glowing red eyes. They all focused on him before rushing in his direction.

He snarled before meeting them half-way.

One of them swiped its arm at Tyrone but he vaulted over. Another tried to stomp him but he rolled away. And another tried to grab him but he easily intercepted its arm and swung it around, hitting its allies before flinging it at the witch.

But she with a wave of her hand, a red streak of light cut it in half.

As the mud landed, Tyrone felt water land on his arms and clothes and looked up. The witch also looked up and squinted her eyes to keep rain drops from landed in them while thunder rumbled again.

Am unnatural ceasefire had settled between them and Tyrone decided this was his chance to get to Katelyn. He made a beeline for the car.

However, she noticed his movement out of the corner of her peripheral vision. "Cá bhfuil tú ag smaoineamh a bheith ag dul?!" she yelled.

He didn't respond, only fluidly jumping into the backseat. At that, she realized what he was planning to do and shrilly shouted a command that made the mud beings slink to one another and mold into a towering monstrosity.

He plucked the memory out of the hole it now sat in, only to quickly drop it because of how hot it was. Hissing, he flicked his wrist twice then ripped off a piece of his T-shirt and scooping it up.

Suddenly, what little sunlight was blocked out by a brown mass and the car rose into the air.

Tyrone grabbed the neckline of her crop sweater and pulled her against his shoulder before holding the memory above her forehead.

All the while, muddy tendrils began slithering all over the car.

Somehow, he ignored their presence and steadily placing the memory against her brow. As soon as it touched her skin, there was a burst of light followed by the the memory slipping out of his grasp and phasing into her head.

When the last of it was gone, Katelyn's eyelids fluttered open, a strangled gasp left her lips and her dilated eyes landed on Tyrone's face.

"Hey," he breathed, flashing her a friendly grin. "T-Tyrone?" she croaked, eyebrows furrowed. "The one and only," he teased. 'What are you doing here?" she asked softly. "Saving you. Come on," he said as he positioned the girl flush against him. Then he scooted to the other door ad shattered the window with his fist. She cried out in alarm at that but screamed when Tyrone dove through the window frame.

One moment, air and rain roared in her eardrums. The next, Tyrone had landed on his feet while cradling her.

Katelyn pressed her hands against his chest to create distance and demanded, "What just happened?!" But randomly, Tyrone rolled into another parking spot with her, soaking his clothes further.

And when he came to a stop, her gaze wandered over his shoulder and she beheld the thing that had Mom's car, the front crumpled, in its grasp.

Her throat went dry and the pelting rain felt even harsher against her face and hands.

This thing met her gaze and suddenly flung the car. She can't remember what she said but it made her throat hurt.

Her savior(?) then put her down and told her, "Get out of here, Kate! My truck isn't far from here. Find it and wait for me." Her eyes peeled wide. "Wait?! What are you going to do?!" A small, knowing smile graced his face. "No...n...no, you can't be planning to fight THAT!" "I am and I will," he calmly replied as the mud being picked up more cars.

Katelyn stared at him, her lips quivering.

Tyrone then came closer and put his hands on her shoulder. "Nothing will happen to me Kate. I promise I'll win." She only nodded. "Go, get to the truck," he reminded her as he helped her to her feet. She spared him a glance before taking off.

Alas the witch saw her running away and charged up her magic in her palm before flicking it in her direction.

Fortunately, Tyrone picked up a piece of concrete and threw it in the magic attack's path. So it was struck instead and now suspended in the air.

The witch turned to Tyrone, gritting her teeth while Tyrone was smirking.

And this expression riled her up even more. With an angered cry, she outstretched her hand towards him and closed her hand into a fist. The mud being then threw the cars at him.

-

Conas a n-éireoidh leat ag dul isteach ann! - How dare you interfere!

Is é toil Hugo Baskerville é - It is the will of Hugo Baskerville

Leanaim toil do athair - I follow your father's will

Tá a thoil mícheart. Tá a fhios ag mo sheanathair é sin, mar sin sheol sé mé chun é a chosc - His will is wrong. My grandfather knows this, so he sent me to stop it

Ná déan mé duitse a bhualadh - Don't make me fight you

Ansin seas anuas - Then stand down

Ní féidir liom - I cannot

Ansin caithfimid troid - then we must fight

Ó Mháthair an Dúlra, éist le glaoch na caillí seo, cabhraigh liom an buachaill conriochta seo a chur de dhroim seoil! - Oh Mother Nature, hear this witch's call, and help me defeat this werewolf boy!

Cá bhfuil tú ag smaoineamh a bheith ag dul?! - Where do you think you're going?!

A/N: To anyone who speaks Irish Gaelic, I hope these translations (curtesy Chat GPT) were accurate :)