Tale of the Underground

THE CITY LEARNS FEAR (CITY)

The Hunters' Moon bustled with life and laughter, a cacophony of pure joy as city wolves gathered 'round to celebrate the last full moon of the year. Several older werewolves had already let loose, barking and drinking up a storm as they clustered in pods and passed a mug around. Others milled about, albeit aimlessly, but in good spirits. No one paid much attention to the four teen-aged wolves crammed in the back of the bar, speaking amongst themselves.

Marilyn was perhaps the loudest of them, speaking excitedly about whatever passing event she had been involved in that day. Her hair was thick and curly, sitting in thick black ringlets around her head, hardly touching her shoulders. She wore a heavily patterned sweater and jeans, complete with boots and scarf. Suddenly she slammed her hands down against the wooden table, exclaiming, "Guys! Why don't we explore the city tonight?"

"Zero told us to stay right here, though," one of the boys spoke up. He had a slight figure with soft, rounded features. His hair was fairly lengthy and pooled around his shoulders.

"What do ya mean, Mary?" This was Rott. His voice rumbled over the others and bore a heavy accent.

"I mean, why don't we go and try and find our own fun? Nothing's going to happen here... Boo, don't look at me like that."

Boo frowned at her, this time harder. "Do not think it wise to venture out this night." Slow and ponderous, he spoke in fragmented sentences. "Dangerous to go even here."

Marilyn puffed. "Don't be a worry-wart! We'll be fine."

"I think ye mean create err own fun, eh?" Rott drummed his fingers against the table. His hair was already growing into a thick coat of fur. "We could scare up some Ov'rground'rs. They'd never see us comin'."

"That's devilish, Rott!" Marilyn giggled. "I agree. I'm sure there'll be plenty out in the Square to chase 'round!"

Orlan cast a glance at Boo, reaching for his hand. "I think they both need a trip to the dog park..."

Before they knew it, Marilyn had managed to round up all three wolves onto the street. Boo and Orlan hung back, nervously grasping onto each other, while Rott bounded ahead of them. Their voices bounced and echoed with abandon, carrying far down the street. The distant sounds of music and partying mingled with the wolves own personal uproar but did nothing to hide their tracks from what lurked in the night.

"We're almost to the Square, guys!" Marilyn gestured up the street eagerly. A myriad of lights shone and danced.

"Ey, I'll race ye to the end of the street, Mary?" Rott wagged a clawed hand, sliding a bright eye over to the girl.

"You're on, Rott!"

And both wolves went streaking down the concrete under the wash of the full moon; they howled and jeered at each other until suddenly hunching over and suddenly they were just blurred shapes--

Boo and Orlan shared a glance, nodded once, then bolted after their friends.

Marilyn heard nothing but the wind whipping in her ears, her paws pounding the pavement. Her surroundings became an indiscernible blur, legs kicking against the pavement to carry her farther, harder- Rott would never catch her now! She was the fastest werewolf in the pack! Not even a vampire could touch her...

"I'm gonna beat--"

Her howl was curtailed, chopped into a sour whimper.

Adam took a long drink from the hot coffee in his hands, barely tasting the bitter drink as it scalded his throat. His body ached everywhere, limbs stiff from standing and moving without substantial reprieve the entire night. If I could, he thought, I'd collapse here and now. But he couldn't do that, not with a pup waiting for him back home... He sighed and gulped down another burning swallow of the coffee. Exhaustion still pricked at his eyes, threatened to close them. Come on, you can grab--

A force like a freight train suddenly hurled him into the air.

Two solid cracks, like gunfire, rang out.

The world, already dark, went black.

Claws jutted out from Marilyn's neck, slicked red with blood. A hulking beast stood shrouded in the shadows of an alley, eyes burning as if with the fires of hell. Two rows of jagged teeth were just visible and glowed ever so faintly. Amusement twinkled in its eyes.

Rott screamed to a halt, horror dancing on his face. Blood splattered the concrete before him and something like a stone- God, let it be a stone- rolled out into the street. Everything came crashing down around him and the color seeped from his vision.

That was not a stone he had seen roll by. It was his best friend's head.

Those weren't knives sticking out from her corpse, they were claws.

And suddenly the lycanthrope was compelled to turn tail and run. And Rott ran fast, faster than he had ever run before.