Number 9: The Genetically Modified Werewolf

Chapter 2

Number 9 walked out the trap door that connected her cage with the arena. Her sensitive ears picked up the roar of the crowd and it only got louder the closer she stepped. Stopping just in front of a heavily caged door, she waited for them to take of her custom made muzzle and shackles which were made of pure silver to supposedly control her.

“Where’s that weak mutt Dexter? He has to come and take off her restraints!” One man called out to the others who shook their heads in return. “Well someone’s gotta get them off!”

The men quickly scurried back in fear – praying not to be the one who has to complete the task. Number 9 held in a malicious smirk and kept her gaze forward to seem less threatening. She could smell fresh meat as a replacement for the last one who paid the price for being so careless around her. From the corner of her eye she could see him leaning arrogantly against the wall with his arms crossed.

Immediately she knew he was going to be stupid enough to try and take her chains off just to prove he was stronger and better than the others.

The man snarled and stepped forward. “I’ll do it since you’re a bunch of lazy mongrels. She’s just a stupid mutt!”

How predictable, Number 9 thought.

She could smell the terror radiating off him but he stubbornly held his chin high and strolled towards her.

The man stopped just to the side of her and looked up. The beast stood at least 6’6 from her front legs to her head, pure black fur covered every inch of the beasts’ body. The only thing standing out was the eyes; the man could only imagine what it would feel like to be stalked in the woods by this monster.

He gulped and pushed down his fear. The other men were waiting for him. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t afraid and maybe be noticed by the boss. Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, he tried not to shake as he reached out towards the beast. The man’s eyes kept shifting to the face, to make sure the beast wasn’t watching him.

“Wait!”

The voice frightened the man as he jerked back. He whipped around and sent a narrowed glare at the one who spoke.

“You forgot the gloves. The silver could poison you.” The weak rogue stammered and threw the gloves at him.

Muttering curses, he shoved them on and then turned his attention back to the monster.

The nervousness in the room was stifling.

Only when the man touched the locks that held the muzzle in place, did he let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, he thought and quickly unlocked the chains, letting it fall to the ground. Maybe it was just a bunch of rumors at how savage the beast is.

The man couldn’t help but smirk. Guess he was going to be noticed by the big boss as being the one to touch the beast and survive.

Number 9 took a deep breath and waited.

The man was a fool.

A complete idiot to remove the one thing that might have saved his worthless life. Once the muzzle dropped to the ground, Number 9 was quick to teach the scum a lesson he will never forget. Without hesitation, she twisted her head – jaws opened and snapped in between the bars at the closest thing to her, his left arm.

She possessed the strongest bite in the world. Powerful jaw muscles that lock down – easily severing meat and bone.

The man let out a blood curling scream and pulled away only to watch his whole left arm fall to the ground – completely snapped clean off from the shoulder. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and fell to the ground, blood gushed like a waterfall out of his arm leaving a large blood red puddle.