by Art DeForest
His pupils dilated as he peeked around the exam table to see down the hallway. A mammoth monstrosity was sniffing the floor, zigzagging its way down the hall. Growls and whines issued from the animals slavering maw as it eagerly tracked the scent. It was like one of the dogs that Fangs sometimes played with only much bigger. As he considered the black, short furred hide stretched over bulging muscles, the scent of the animal reached him. It was similar to that of other dogs, but different...wrong somehow. In addition to the smell of dog there was the smell of the wolf people, somehow winding it’s way, artificially through the basic scent and corrupting it. The smell had him trying to suppress and instinctual hiss. He must not have been completely successful in the attempt because the dog thing in the hall abruptly raised it’s head and let out a deep barrel chested growl as their eyes met.
“There he is!” Exclaimed one of the bad men, following the gaze of the beast who’s leash he currently held
Fangs ducked behind the exam table once more in a futile attempt to hide as a loud bark issued from the dog thing. “What the hell?” Said Trish as the sound brought her to full consciousness and she used the bars of the cage in an effort to stand.
Fangs’ first instinct of trying to run away from the larger predator came in conflict with the orders of his person to protect their friend as the trio of evil came rushing down the hall towards him. Orders and love overcame instinct then as he heard, “Let Roscoe go. This should be fun to watch.” He didn’t know what the sounds meant but they were quickly followed by the sound of claws, rapidly scraping along the floor as the beast lunged down the hall in his direction. Backing up to Trish’s cage Fangs crouched low and a growl escaped his muzzle as he prepared for battle.
Trish let out a short scream as the beast came into view around the end of the exam table. Seeing Fangs once more, it tried to change direction abruptly, but the slick floor of the room caused his hind quarters to slip out from beneath him. A vicious growl issued from him as momentum carried him into a nearby wall.
Fangs only had a brief reprieve, however. The wall gave the dog thing something to push against and he used it to good advantage, launching himself at Fangs with his maw open and showing long canines that glimmered in the light.
Fangs didn’t have great purchase on the floor either but his natural agility and heightened strength allowed him to leap straight into the air as his adversary crashed into the cage where he’d been crouched a split second before. The speed of the creature surprised Fangs however and he just avoided having a hind leg ripped off as the dog raised his muzzle blindingly fast to snap at him as he sailed over the creature.
The bite missed, but the broad head of the beast didn’t. It crashed into Fangs’ rump, sending him spinning across the room. He crashed into the exam table, his head banging hard off of it’s metal side. He scrambled to regain a standing position while at the same time trying to clear his vision.
“Fangs, run!” Came the panicked voice of the wolf person as his vision cleared. Somehow she’d gotten a hold on the animal’s collar and was trying weakly to restrain the creature. Fangs knew both of those words and understood the command in her desperate voice. He froze for a brief instant however, as his need to protect her caused him to hesitate. It almost cost him his life.
The whooshing sound of a steel rod heading his direction was all the warning Fangs had. He ducked instinctively to the side, causing the noose on the end of the pole carried by the bad man to miss slipping over his his head. The rod the noose was attached to however, came crashing down on Fangs’ shoulder.
Searing pain shot down Fangs’ left front leg at the impact, but adrenaline kept him scrambling to get away. Needle sharp hind claws found purchase on the floor and he launched himself away from the bad man, heading around the opposite end of the exam table. The other bad man was waiting for him there, arms and legs spread wide to grab him.
9
We were almost back to the elevator in the old subway tunnel when a sudden pain that I could actually feel in my shoulder, came across my link to fangs. I stumbled and hissed as my left arm burned.
“What’s the matter.” Said Deacon propping me up from behind.
Sara and Marcus turned around to face me, concern and alarm on their faces. Lila had been left topside to keep watch on the building.
“Fangs is hurt.” I ground out as I rested briefly in Deacons arms. My eyes closed and I tried to see what was happening through Fangs eyes.
We were in a white room. Booted feet sticking out of blue scrubs tried to block our way. We darted between the legs as the bad man tried to grab us, just barely touching our long tail as we flew through them. “Son of a bitch! Get him!” came the sound behind us. We also heard the sound of claws on the floor and a female yelp of pain as some animal started to chase us.
“Dammit, they found Fangs!” I said, coming back to myself enough to communicate with the group. “They’ve got some big ass dog or something chasing him. We have to get up there now!”
“Was there any sign of Trish?” Asked Marcus urgently.
“I heard a female in the room but Fangs wasn’t facing in the right direction to see her.” I replied as I ran up to the elevator and pushed on the fake stone that the vampire we’d seen coming out of the elevator had used to send the platform back up. I just hoped it would bring it down for use.
“What are you doing?” Deacon hissed. “This entrance is almost certainly guarded!”
“That’s their problem.” I growled, drawing a stake and the big derringer I’d borrowed from Marcus.
With a frustrated sigh, Deacon joined me by the now descending platform as it began to slide out of the ceiling above, his MP5 tracked up into the dark hole of the shaft as it continued to lower towards us. He was joined by a silent Marcus almost immediately, his own weapon ready for action. Sara was by my side, watching calmly.
The platform with it’s little guardrail came to rest on the floor. It was empty and no gunfire greeted us. The platform was small, only large enough for two people at a time. “Let Deacon and I go first.” Said Marcus, putting a restraining hand on my arm as I started towards the platform. I looked at him sharply, preparing to rip him a new one about his macho streak.
“We have the automatic weapons.” He said, before I could get the words out.
The words froze in my throat and I reluctantly stepped back. “Hurry” I said urgently.
I sank back into my connection to Fangs as the guys headed up the platform. We were fleeing at breakneck speed down a long hallway. My heart froze as I saw a closed emergency door at the other end, knowing he was running into a dead end with pursuit hot on his heels. The feeling I got from Fangs was unruffled at the prospect of the looming barrier, however. I got the sense of, “Watch this.” from him as he neared the door.
He didn’t even slow his pace before leaping at the bar across the middle of the door. His front paws hit solidly on the bar across the middle of the door, unlatching it. Momentum carried his muscled body into the door itself, swinging it wide. We rebounded off the open door and landed in a dark hallway going both directions away from the door. We ran to the left since the door was partially blocking the way to the right. As we ran, we listened hopefully for the sound of the door latching behind us. No such luck.
Instead came the sound of the beast crashing into the door before it could fully close. A growl echoed through the hall as he spotted us and re-joined the chase. After about fifty feet, the hall took a ninety degree turn to the right. Our hind legs scrabbled for purchase on the concrete floor before finding a purchase and continuing to hurdle us down the hall. I felt Fangs chagrin as we looked ahead. Perhaps thirty feet ahead was another door. It had a normal round doorknob and I sensed from Fangs that this was an insurmountable obstacle.
We skidded to a stop before the barrier, glaring at it for a brief second before turning to face the animal chasing us. A mutant rottweiler from hell came skidding around the corner. His jaws were open and foam flew fr
om them as his massive muscles bunched and lunged, throwing him down the hallway towards us. We crouched into a ready position and prepared to fight the monster charging down the hall towards us.
I opened my eyes as the empty elevator platform slid silently down once more. “Go, go!” I screamed, lunging for the guardrail and leaping over it. “Fangs is trapped in a hallway with some mutant attack dog!” I said as my hand came down on a small button inside the railing. The platform started to raise again even as Sara jumped adroitly to join me on the platform.
I looked up, preparing to yell up for the guys to go ahead and find Fangs while we rode the elevator. I didn’t get a chance though as automatic weapons fire erupted above us. We slid up into a caged enclosure as the rattle of Deacon’s and Marcus’ suppressed MP5’s continued down the hallway we were emerging into.
Something was charging toward us and seemed to be shrugging off the withering fire that the guys were pouring into it. At first I thought it was the mutant dog that had been chasing Fangs, but on second glance, it was too big for that. It was also the wrong color. Instead of black with tan highlights this animal had alternating black and orange stripes with a little white thrown into the mix. “Oh Joy” I thought to myself as I raised the suddenly inadequate derringer. “They made a mutant tiger.”
++++
Fangs felt his person’s attention draw away as the beast slowed its approach to a growling walk. That was okay with Fangs. She had her own problems and he needed to focus on his own right now.
The huge dog came to a stop as Fangs’ warcry hissed from his throat. Even a predator as large as he was knew to respect cornered prey. The cat before him didn’t think of himself as prey however. He was Fangs, and he was done running. He screamed his warcry once more and lunged at the slavering brute in front of him.
The rough cement floor he was on now gave his paws much better grip, allowing him to get up to full speed in a fraction of a second. Fangs saw the brute’s mouth start to open, preparing a crushing bite, but as fast as the brute was, his speed was nothing compared to that of a vampire augmented, feline..
The rottweiler began a lunge, aiming a crushing bite to the head the cat. His jaws snapped loudly on air however, as Fangs leapt over him. Three quarter inch claws extended like switchblades from his front paws and the dog yelped in pain as they dug into the flesh above it’s eyes. Fangs chastised himself for missing the orbs even as he landed softly behind the dog and spun quickly around, slashing for it’s hamstrings.
The dog, while not as fast as Fangs was still fast enough to spin in place. He managed to get the vulnerable tendons of his back legs out of the way. Instead, Fangs opened up four deep slashes across his hindquarter and flank. Roscoe continued his turn with another yelp of pain, only to find himself the brunt of multiple strikes to his muzzle as Fangs tried once more to blind him. Rottweilers were bred to fight however and his eyes were sunk back into his head behind a very formidable set of teeth. The pain to his nose and jowls from the slashing razor blades coming out of his opponents blurringly fast paws however, drove him to madness.
With a vicious snarl, Roscoe charged, trying to bowl over his opponent with sheer mass and ferocity. Fangs back pedalled frantically as the jaws of the beast snapped down entirely too close to his own tender muzzle. He continued to back down the hallway, dodging left, right, up and down, desperately avoiding the the snapping jaws as Roscoe continued his charge.
Fangs could feel the corner of the hallway coming up behind him. He didn’t think he could make the turn and still stay out of the beast’s reach. He wouldn’t have understood what they were saying if someone had told him that inspiration was often the child of desperation, but the phrase nevertheless applied now. As his back legs touched the wall at the corner, he used all of his speed and agility to jump up and onto the connecting wall and actually managed to run sideways on it for a brief time before coming back down to the floor and whipping around to face his opponents hind quarters once more.
Roscoe’s single minded charge couldn’t be halted in time and he crashed headlong into the wall. Dazed and confused by the sudden disappearance of his quarry, he was unable to spin and fend off Fangs’ attack this time. He let out an agonizing howl as he felt the tendons in his back legs separate beneath Fangs’ wickedly sharp claws. His hind quarters slumped to the ground as he tried to turn, no longer able to support his body weight. He lunged clumsily at his adversary, but Fangs was already dodging around his semi prone body and streaking back the way he had come originally.
Fangs slowed to a trot as he continued down the hallway, confident in the knowledge that his foe could no longer follow him. His approach slowed however, as he reached the door that he’d come through a couple minutes before. He wondered why the bad men hadn’t chased him along with the beast. Looking up into the long narrow window in the door as he approached he could see one of the bad men looking at him. His face was a mask of anger, but he didn’t open the door to attack Fangs. After a few moments of glaring at each other, Fangs continued on down the hall, wondering why.
++++
As the orange and black striped behemoth drew closer, seeming to shrug off the incoming fire, I could see that this wasn’t just an overly large kitty cat. His gait was loping, more like that of an ape, than the liquid grace of movement that I was used to seeing from Fangs. As he drew closer, it became evident that this was some evil cross between a tiger and either a man or a gorilla. It almost seemed like a more primitive version of the battle form used by the lycans when they went into combat.
“Silver’s not working!” shouted Marcus as he continued to pour fire down the long hallway.
“It’s skin is too tough for good penetration.” Responded Deacon.
Taking that as a clue, I thumbed back the hammer on the derringer and took careful aim at the head, waiting for the animal to draw closer. Derringers weren’t known for their accuracy after all.
The firing pin on Marcus’ MP5 clicked on an empty chamber as the hugely muscled beast drew near. Seeing that it would be on us before he could change magazines, he stood and ripped his tactical vest from his body as his body started expanding into his battle form, thick fur sprouting from his body and head.
“Marcus wait!” I shouted as he completed the transformation. I was hoping the blast from a .410 shotgun shell to the head would at least impair the animal’s vision. My admonishment was too late however, as Marcus leapt at his larger opponent, a deep snarl tearing from his muzzle.
The tiger hesitated for a fraction of a second, it’s eyes going wide. I don’t think it expected to be facing something so similar to itself. That split second hesitation is what Marcus needed in order to cover the remaining distance to where the beast stood in a crouched position, claw fingered hands still dragging the ground as Marcus slammed into him.
The impact sent them both rolling back down the hallway. Blood curdling growls and roars issued from both of them as they jockeyed for position on the concrete floor of the hallway.
Deacon and I had our weapons trained towards them but there was no opportunity for a shot as the blinding speed of both combatants turned the scene into a blurry furball of teeth and claws.
The furball exploded suddenly as Marcus came soaring back down the hallway towards us. Apparently the tiger had managed to get the leverage he needed to throw Marcus off of himself.
Deacon dropped the MP5 letting the sling that attached the gun to his chest to swing it out of the way as he stood to absorb the impact of seven feet of lycan in battle form. I leapt sideways as the force of the impact swept both of them past me. Sara managed a spectacular leap that actually took her up and over them as they rolled past, landing in a graceful stance as her sword slid out of it’s hiding place in her staff.
The tiger was on his feet once more and headed our way. Finally having a clear shot, I raised the derringer and put the low front sight on its shaggy head. The .45 long colt round in the top chamber seemed to have little effect on the beast. A
small furrow of torn flesh appeared on it’s forehead, but didn’t appear to cause any real damage. The buckshot from the .410 shell in the bottom barrell had more of the desired effect however.
At least one of the spheres of shot managed to catch the creature in the left eye. A tearing hiss of pain escaped its muzzle as it turned aside suddenly, raising a clawed hand to paw at the wound.
Sara leapt forward at the distraction, sword held high and coming down in a wicked arc towards the tiger’s neck. Just as she came within reach however, the tigers massively muscled arm came out in a backhand the slammed Sara into the wall of the hallway and sent her sword stroke, harmlessly, off to the side.
I dropped the derringer and palmed my two borrowed stakes as I charged towards the monster. I didn’t know if they would have any effect, but I had to help my friend. As I closed the distance, I heard the sound of the emergency door behind the brute slam open and wondered what fresh hell was headed our way.
