Why is it that the werewolves always know who I am? This one seemed very familiar to me. It stalked toward me in a very slow, taunting manner.
“It’s been a long time,” it said.
“Do we know each other?” I asked it.
“Don’t you remember me?”
“You remind me of someone.”
“I helped kill your parents.”
It felt like someone hit me in the chest with a lead pipe. I tried to keep my composure so I didn’t show him how much his words affected me. I honestly didn’t remember any of them being that big. To tell you the truth they all seemed huge back then.
“I knew I recognized you,” I said. “You look just like your brothers. I wonder if you’ll look the same when you die.”
The werewolf’s smile faded from his face. I’m sure he already knew that they were dead but I certainly struck a nerve. It was just an eye for an eye.
“I will make you pay for that,” he promised me.
“Yeah,” I began, “the other two said they were going to kill me, too.”
“I’m not like them.”
“I can see that.”
The officers started to back away but Roy stepped forward, ready to fight. I put my axe in front of him to stop him.
“This is my fight,” I told him.
Roy nodded his head. He stepped backwards while I moved closer to the giant wolf.
“What is all of this?” I asked him.
“A means to an end,” he promised. “Too long have we hid in the shadows while humans rule the world. Not anymore.”
“And this is all being run by one man, or whatever he is?”
The werewolf cringed ever so slightly at the mentioning of the guy with the trench coat.
“We all do what we must,” he said.
“Must be nice,” I said. “Letting someone else run the show.”
“Are you prepared to die?”
“You’re so full of it.”
The talking was over. We charged at each other…