Werewolf Of FeverPeak

Chapter 21: The Final Shot

Crowley burst into his house, blood dripping from his side as he raced to the basement. His heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed the case of silver bullets from the dusty shelves. He loaded them into his revolver, his hands steady despite the pain coursing through his body.

Without hesitation, he ran back outside, jumping on his bike and racing back toward the sounds of battle. The wind whipped through his hair as he pushed the bike to its limits, his mind focused on one thing: killing the monster.

When Crowley arrived, the scene was brutal. Scarecrow was on the ground, blood streaming from multiple wounds, his mask cracked and hanging loosely on his face. The werewolf stood over him, claws raised for the kill.

Crowley didn't hesitate. He aimed and fired.

The silver bullets tore through the air, slamming into the werewolf's chest. Lonny howled in agony, stumbling back as blood sprayed from the wounds. Crowley kept firing, unloading the entire chamber into the beast.

With a final, guttural snarl, the werewolf collapsed to the ground, its body twitching as life drained from it. The streets were silent, save for Crowley's heavy breathing and the distant sound of sirens.

But just as Crowley lowered his gun, a small, shadowy figure darted from the alley. It was fast-too fast. It leapt at Crowley, knocking him to the ground.

"Shit!" Crowley snarled, throwing the small werewolf off of him. He pointed his gun, ready to fire, but Scarecrow's voice stopped him.

"Wait!" Scarecrow shouted, his voice ragged. He grabbed the small werewolf, holding it back. "It's Lonny's son."

Crowley froze, his finger on the trigger. His eyes burned with anger. "I don't care."

"You can't kill him," Scarecrow said, his voice pleading. "He's just a child."

Crowley's eyes flashed with rage. "A child? That thing is a monster! Just like his father."

Scarecrow shook his head, trying to calm the small werewolf. "Look at him, Crowley. He's scared. He doesn't have to die."

Crowley's hands trembled as he aimed, his mind swirling with memories of blood, death, and pain. "Monsters like him don't deserve to live."

Scarecrow glanced at his watch-dawn was approaching. "Crowley, it's almost dawn. He'll turn back. We can save him."

But before Scarecrow could say more, a deafening gunshot rang out. Blood sprayed across Scarecrow's mask as the small werewolf collapsed, lifeless.

Crowley holstered his gun without a word, turning and walking away as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon.

Scarecrow ripped off his mask, his green eyes blazing with fury. His voice echoed through the empty street. "Crowley!"

Crowley didn't turn. "Leave him at the courthouse. The girl will be proven innocent. I've done my job."

He disappeared into the distance, leaving Scarecrow standing in the blood-soaked street, fireworks exploding in the distance, their colors lighting up the horror below.