This story is a work of fiction solely from the twisted mind of Chromex. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are of at least 18 years of age unless otherwise specifically mentioned. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or total, without the author's permission.
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Fear, as it turns out, is an amazing motivator. Especially when that fear is for your very life. I was running faster than I ever possibly imagined I could. My shoes, splashing as they hit the wet pavement, barely audible over the hard rain pouring down. Even so, I could still hear the sounds from whatever it was that was chasing me. The high pitched scraping of its claws against the concrete, its breathing labored and hot, and holy fuck the smell. Even though the rain, I could smell its foul stench, like a corpse left to rot in the sun. The flashes of lightning and the crash of thunder just added to the horror.
"Slow down bitch," a voice said spurring me to run even faster, "Slow down and I promise you'll be dead before I fuck your ass." Oh, fucking awesome it talks. The voice could only be described as gravely and torn as if it was barely used. Suffice to say I didn't find his offer to be something I could agree with, the fact that he was talking as I could barely keep my wind, didn't reassure me of my chances.
This is what I get for deciding to go for a run at three in the morning. My night had been restless, as they all were lately, a long lull in the rain had it looking like a good chance to burn some energy. I knew it was going to be a short window of opportunity to get the run in but, I was certainly regretting it now. I had been running for no more than a minute when something sprang out from an alleyway and attempted to grab me. This wasn't the first time someone had tried to grab me from that alley so I was able to dodge out of the way but just barely.
Of course, the previous attempts to grab me had at least been human, well subhuman anyways. The creature chasing my now could only be described as something out of a horror movie fan's wet dream. I only got a quick glimpse and I wasn't about to slow down to get a better look. Claw like hands covered in dark fur and golden eyes sat deep in a face that could only be described as wolf-like. Fuck me I was being chased by a werewolf. Worse yet, I was being chased by a werewolf that wanted to fuck me.
Stride after stride, I kept up my pace, chewing up the ground as I tried to stay ahead. "Getting tired yet? Because I'm not." Unfortunately, I was, I could feel the burn beginning in my legs and before long I was going to falter. As the street came to an end I thought I had a chance if I broke through the park, so I veered sharply, I heard the creature stumble as my turn was unexpected.
Hitting the trees I soon realized the enormity of the mistake I had just made. On the street, I could maintain my speed and not have to worry about roots and branches. Being dressed in running shorts and a sports bra is not the best choice when you are smashing through wet plant life as the brambles and thorns tore at my skin. I was forced to turn when I thought I saw another grey creature in front of me, briefly illuminated as the lightning flashed across the sky.
"Thanks, cunt," the first creature said, "You saved me the effort of carrying your corpse over here." I knew I only had a few moments of energy left before my legs gave out completely, and I wasn't going to play the helpless victim. If I was going to be killed, I was going to get a shot first.
Picking a spot to make my stand I came to a sliding stop, spinning around as I threw my punch. A series of lightning flashes gave the entire scene a surreal feeling as my punch flew towards the werewolf's face. He was only a couple of feet away from me but a second werewolf was there ready to tackle him. All of the impacts seemed to happen simultaneously as the punch, which had been aimed for his nose, glanced off his snout and slid into his mouth. The momentum of the two werewolves caused them to barrel over me and we all crashed to the ground.
His teeth ripped through my flesh as if it was a turkey drumstick at renaissance faire, the pain exploding, and several ribs were shattered as they crashed on top of me. Luckily, if you want to call it that, they seemed more interested in each other than me; I swear I felt the grey one pushing me out of the way. The fight was more brutal than I ever possibly imagined, claws and teeth ripped through flesh and there was blood everywhere. Eventually, the grey, who had the advantage of not playing cat and mouse with me, managed to dig his claws into the black wolf's throat and completely remove it.
I know now, I was in shock, as I sat there on the ground watching the two werewolves fight. Why else would I sit there while a Wes Craven movie played out before me? Seeing the grey stalking over to me, my eyes were wide and frightened but I couldn't make myself move. "You're hurt," he said, up close there was no question as to his gender, in the same gravely kind of voice, "Let me see your arm." Looking down I was shocked to see my forearm bent at a ninety-degree angle and a large chunk of flesh gone. "Fuck! This is not good," the grey said before seeming to think hard.
Hearing a werewolf say fuck suddenly struck me as incredibly funny and I started to giggle. Pretty sure I was going into shock as it turned into full-on laughter as the loss of blood began to get to me. "Bad doggie. You shouldn't say fuck." Not my first choice of possible last words, but you go with what you have. Cradling my wrecked arm with blood soaking into the wet ground, I felt his claw or paw, do werewolves have paws, close around my upper forearm and squeeze tightly. I thought perhaps he was trying to stop the flow of blood but everything began to fade out and soon the blackness enveloped me.