Celeste crept silently towards the door, her heart pounding in her chest.
She carefully peered through the house for her enemies. She saw the two hunters engrossed in conversation. Their backs were facing her. She held her breath, afraid they might hear her, but they remained oblivious to her presence.
They didn't seem to even notice their guards were gone. Celeste wondered what kind of conversation they were having.
She looked across the room and noticed the rifles were still resting on the table. She couldn't help but wonder what made these hunters so confident. Was it their recent success in catching werewolves after the full moon, or was it their deep-seated contempt for her kind? She knew one thing for sure though, their arrogance would be their downfall.
The hunters continued to chat, their voices a mere murmur to Celeste's ears because of the distance.
Celeste took a tentative step forward. And that was when she saw what was lying on the ground beneath the hunters' feet.
She stood frozen in place, her breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, she felt as if time and space had warped, and she was back in Raymond's basement, standing in front of Scarface's lifeless body.
The putrid smell of decay filled her nostrils, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
She blinked, trying to banish the image from her mind, but the stench lingered on her nose like a ghost.
The only thing she could see in front of her now was two familiar wolves lying motionless in a pool of blood.
No!
Her first reaction was disbelief. How could this be? She had only been gone for a short time. How could everything change so drastically in such a short time? Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of the situation.
She tried to focus her attention, to block out the hunters' conversation and listen for the wolves' breathing and heartbeats, but there was nothing. The hunters' voices were too loud and jarring.
It must be because the hunters' voices were too loud and she couldn't hear anything else.
Her gaze remained fixed on the motionless wolves and the crimson puddle beneath them. She stepped into the room, her footsteps light as a feather as if she was afraid of disturbing her hearing.
But the hunters were still too loud.
Shut up! Her lips moved, but no sound came out in fear that would further drown out the wolves' heartbeats.
But miraculously, the quiet filled her ears as she wanted. There was no more noise to disrupt her listening for the sounds of breathing and heartbeats of the wolves.
Then she realized that the hunters had finally shut up.
Celeste looked up and saw a hunter turning around.
He must have been the vigilant one, as she had been approaching him step by step without making any sound.
His eyes met hers, and she could see the surprise and alarm in there, but what struck her most was the contempt and disgust that lingered in his gaze.
It ignited a deep anger within her almost in no time. A bloodlust burned away any of her rational thoughts.
The shadow of the red pool of blood on the floor seemed to have contaminated her vision. As she moved her eyes, the shadow followed and enveloped the hunter's face in a sinister red hue.
She could already see the blood that would soon be spilled.
Before the hunter could react, a wolf howl erupted from Celeste's throat.
In an instant, she felt her fingers elongate and her face shift and stretch. Her skin was suddenly covered in white fur. She could hear the sound of clothes being ripped apart, but it was distant and muffled in her ears.
The transformation was both exhilarating and terrifying, her senses heightened and her movements lightning quick.
All she could see was her target – her prey. All she could hear was the sound of blood pulsing from his heart to his neck. It was as if the world had faded away, leaving only her and her prey.
She lunged toward the hunter. With a swift and precise movement, she aimed for the hunter's neck, her teeth sinking into his flesh.
The imagined redness that had surrounded his bare skin was now replaced by real blood and heat. As she tore into him, she felt a primal satisfaction that she had never experienced before. It was as if a part of her had been unleashed, a part that had been suppressed for too long.
The hunter beneath her had no chance to react before he was in her jaws. She could taste the metallic tang of his blood and feel the warmth of it spreading through her mouth. It was a sensation that both thrilled and frightened her, but at that moment, she could not stop herself.
She was a predator, and he was her prey.
But she still had another prey.
The adrenaline rushed through her veins as she listened to the other prey's surprised gasp.
When she looked up, the hunter's gaze quickly shifted away from her and landed on the table where his weapons sat.
The hunter turned to run away, but Celeste sprang into action, her powerful muscles propelling her forward as she tackled him to the ground. The hunter's screams echoed through the room as Celeste's claws dug deeper into his flesh, pinning him down and rendering him unable to move. His face twisted in pain as he struggled, but the wolf's ferocious growl paralyzed him.
Celeste could smell the prey's fear. The previous arrogance and contempt were nowhere to be seen now.
She narrowed her eyes and prepared to sink her teeth into the hunter's neck, but then she sensed something was off.
Suddenly, the fur on the back of her neck stood up, a shiver running down her spine. Her instincts scream at her: danger!
She could feel something pointing at her, like the eyes of a venomous snake locking onto her, ready to spew venom onto her body.
She looked up and saw a dark gun barrel pointing at her, the cold metal glinting in the light. Following the barrel, she saw the silver gun, and could even smell the bullets in the gun chamber.
She knew what kind of bullets they were, the kind that was meant for creatures like her.
She knew who the owner of the gun was before she looked up to confirm.
Raymond the werewolf hunter.