Chapter 9: Between Man and Monster
The clearing held its breath. The howls still rang in Clara's bones, twin notes of hunger and rage, answering each other across the night. One close. One far.
Jonah's rifle smoked faintly in his hands, his jaw tight as stone. "One of them's back in town."
The two townsmen blanched, clutching their lanterns like lifelines. "My wife—my kids—" one stammered, already stumbling toward the trail.
"Hold!" Elias barked, stepping forward. "That's exactly what it wants. Splitting us, driving us back and forth. If we run blind, we'll be picked off."
The man spun on him, wild-eyed. "So we just let them die?"
Elias's gaze was steady, unflinching. "Running headlong will kill more than it saves."
Jonah cursed, his voice sharp with fury. "And what, we just sit here while people are torn apart?"
Elias's eyes flared silver. "We think."
The air crackled between them. Jonah's rifle twitched, his finger tight on the trigger, though it wasn't aimed at the woods anymore.
Clara shoved between them. "Stop! Both of you. We don't have time to argue."
But even as she said it, a scream shattered the night—close, raw, agonized.
The men bolted without hesitation, lantern light bouncing wildly as they plunged into the trees. Jonah spat a curse and chased them. Clara followed, heart hammering. Elias was at her side, a silent shadow moving far too fast for any man.
Branches whipped past as they tore down the path. Snow sprayed under boots, lungs burning in the cold.
The scream came again, then choked off.
They burst into another clearing—and froze.
Blood stained the snow in a wide pool. One of the townsmen's lantern lay shattered, its flame guttered out. His rifle lay bent in the snow.
The man himself was gone.
"God—oh God—" the surviving townsman babbled, backing away.
Jonah gritted his teeth, scanning the tree line. "Where is it?"
The answer came in a growl.
From the shadows, the beast lunged.
It hit the surviving man first, claws slashing across his chest, sending him sprawling with a scream. Clara barely had time to cry out before Elias moved—no, exploded forward, colliding with the creature mid-strike.
The two crashed into the snow with a force that shook the ground.
Clara's lantern swung wildly, casting fractured light. She saw Elias's hands close around the beast's throat, veins bulging with impossible strength. His teeth bared—not human, too sharp, too long. His eyes burned silver-white in the dark.
The beast raked his side with claws. Elias snarled, not in pain but in something deeper, more primal. His grip tightened, and Clara swore she saw his fingers lengthen, nails curving into claws of his own.
Her heart stuttered.
Jonah saw it too. His rifle snapped up, barrel aimed square at Elias.
"Get off him!" Jonah roared. "You're no better than it!"
"No!" Clara's voice cracked, raw with panic. She stumbled forward, seizing Jonah's arm. "He's fighting it, Jonah—look!"
Elias drove the beast back, snow spraying, the two locked in a brutal struggle. The werewolf snarled, twisting, throwing him off at last. Elias rolled, landing low, his shoulders heaving. In the lantern glow, Clara saw him fully now: his hands clawed, his teeth bared, his eyes silver-bright.
Not human. Not monster. Something between.
The beast lunged again. Elias met it head-on, their bodies colliding in a frenzy of claws and snarls. The sound was sickening—bone on bone, flesh tearing, the roar of predators locked in death.
Jonah tried to steady his aim. Clara clung to him, desperate. "If you shoot him, we're dead! He's the only one holding it back!"
Jonah's jaw clenched, torn between fear and reason.
At last, the werewolf staggered back, wounded, blood dark against its black fur. It snarled once, low and furious, then bolted into the trees, vanishing into the night.
Silence crashed down, broken only by Clara's ragged breath.
Elias stood in the snow, shoulders hunched, chest heaving. His hands trembled, claws dripping with blood. Slowly, painfully, he forced them back into human shape, nails shrinking, silver glow dimming until only gray eyes stared back.
He looked at Clara. Then at Jonah.
Jonah's rifle was still raised, though his hands shook now. "What… what the hell are you?"
Elias's voice was rough, frayed at the edges. "Not what you think."
Clara stepped toward him, heart pounding. "Then what? Tell me."
For a long moment, he was silent, his face carved in shadow. Then, finally, he spoke.
"I carry the curse. But I'm not the beast you saw. Not yet."
The words hit like a hammer. Jonah's breath hissed out, fury and fear boiling. "Not yet? You admit it—you're one of them."
"I'm not," Elias growled, his voice edged with something feral. "I fight it. Every day. Every night. You think I'd risk my life against it if I wanted it to win?"
Jonah's jaw clenched, the rifle shaking in his grip.
Clara moved between them, her voice trembling but firm. "He saved us. Again. That has to mean something."
Elias's eyes softened when they found hers, the silver glow fading to steel-gray. "It means I'm running out of time."
Before Clara could ask what he meant, another howl echoed in the distance. Not one. Two. Answering each other.
Back toward the town.
Elias's face hardened. "We're too late."
They ran. Snow tore underfoot, branches clawing as they pushed through the forest. Lanterns swung, shadows leaping. Clara's lungs burned, but terror kept her moving.
When they broke through the trees, the sight froze her blood.
Ashwood Hollow lay in chaos. Doors splintered. Windows shattered. Blood painted the snow in streaks and handprints. Villagers screamed as shadows moved between houses, hulking and swift.
The beasts were inside the town now.
Jonah raised his rifle, jaw hard. "It's over. They're here."
Elias stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice low. "No. It's just beginning."