Chapter Five: Fangs in the Dark
Seth stood frozen, the bent bat raised in trembling hands. His eyes locked with the wolf crouched on the ruined jeep. The beast slowly turned its body toward him, muscles tensed beneath its matted fur. For a heartbeat, neither moved—two predators measuring one another.
Then, with a sudden lunge, the wolf leapt.
The jeep groaned under the force, sliding back several paces as the beast launched itself forward. In a blink, it closed the distance, landing before him with claws outstretched.
Seth's instincts screamed. He hurled himself backward, the wolf's claws slicing empty air with a vicious whoosh.
Adrenaline surged. He swung the bent bat in a desperate arc. Crack! The blow smashed across the wolf's elongated nose, wrenching its head sideways. Blood flew, but the creature only snarled, lips curling back to reveal jagged fangs. A single tooth clattered to the ground, the only sign of damage.
Seth's stomach sank.
The wolf lowered its stance, growling deeper, then lunged again—this time weaving left and right, its movements quick and erratic. It was trying to confuse him.
But Seth wasn't fooled. When the beast sprang high, clearly aiming for his throat, he crouched low. The wolf soared overhead, snapping jaws clashing in the air before it landed hard behind him.
They circled, locked once more in a silent contest of will. The wolf's eyes burned with feral hunger; Seth's with desperate focus.
That was when he saw it—half-buried in the ground, a jagged iron rod, its edge sharpened by rust and time.
Hope flickered.
Kiting around the wolf, Seth edged toward the makeshift weapon. The beast tracked his every move, body taut, waiting for the slightest slip. His heart hammered. He bent down slowly, never breaking eye contact, and closed his fingers around the rod.
The wolf chose that moment to strike.
Not leaping this time—it charged, pounding the earth on all fours. The sudden burst of speed caught Seth off guard. He rolled aside, but not fast enough. Claws raked his back, slicing shallow lines of fire across his skin.
He gritted his teeth, biting down a cry. Pain fueled his movements as the wolf spun and lunged again.
This time, Seth planted the rod firmly, angling it in front of him.
The wolf's open maw met the weapon head-on.
Schk!
The iron rammed through its mouth, tearing down its throat, and burst out through its lower spine in a spray of blood. The beast writhed, impaled by its own momentum.
Seth dropped the bat and gripped the rod with both hands, bracing it against a crack in the pavement. The wolf thrashed, claws flailing, blood pouring from its ruined jaws—but even pierced through, its eyes still burned with life.
These wolves tenacity was horrifying.
Seth's pulse thundered. He couldn't let it recover. His gaze darted frantically until he spotted a crowbar in a rusted toolbox nearby—the same jeep the wolf had perched on earlier.
He grabbed it, surged forward, and brought it down with brutal precision. Once. Twice. Again and again until the beast's movements ceased.
At last, silence.
The wolf's lifeless body sagged against the rod, pinned like a grotesque trophy. Seth collapsed beside it, gasping for air, every muscle trembling. His hands shook around the crowbar, his mind fogged with exhaustion and disbelief.
Then, just as before, a glowing orb of light rose from the corpse. It pulsed faintly before streaking into his chest.
He tried to follow its movements but… one moment it was rising from the corpse the next it was already inside his body.
"What the hell is this…?" he whispered, staring at his bloodied hands. A gift? A curse? Whatever it was, it was elusive.
He leaned against a nearby wall, gazing up at the fractured quarter moon in a daze. How could everything have turned upside down in a single night? A day ago, he was wandering about freely— if you did not include Sam. Now, he was fighting monsters with his bare hands and rusted weapons.
He sighed, pushed himself upright, and staggered away. The air was filled with new noises—footsteps, growls, and the clatter of unseen creatures drawn by the smell of blood.
He wondered where they came from. They were certainly not here earlier when he was out searching that's for sure. He didn't know but he knew one thing.
That being the fact that he couldn't stay here.
Seth slipped into the nearest building, an abandoned café. Dust choked the air, furniture lay broken, but the stairs still held. He climbed quickly to the third floor, the highest point, and wedged himself inside a small room.
Moments later, they arrived.
From his vantage point, Seth counted at least eight wolves prowling through the wreckage. They weren't alone—massive spiders the size of dogs clambered over walls, and a stag with two twisted heads pawed the ground, snorting foul vapor.
The predators eyed one another, growls rumbling low.
Then—suddenly—they stopped. Every beast turned eastward. Growls turned to whimpers. One by one, they bolted, scattering into the shadows, fleeing everywhere except the direction they faced.
The ground trembled.
Through the broken windows, Seth saw it—a massive snake slithering into view, its scales glistening in the moonlight. The beast dwarfed the wreckage around it. With a casual flick of its tail, it crushed a car, flinging the wreck into a nearby building.
The earth shuddered as it moved, deliberate and unhurried, leaving destruction in its wake.
Seth's breath caught in his throat. He pressed himself into the corner of the room, praying to remain unseen.
Though he could only watch in horror as the nightmare slithered closer.