Fenrir's call having strengthened your soul and sharpened your abilities, your lupine hunting form solidified, your claws sharpened and a true feeling of power in your heart, you're ready to strike. You hurry through the mine shafts and tunnels, nostrils filled with the pungent odor of the other werewolves hiding in the tunnels.

The werewolves are easy to hunt down through the tunnels, as you slaughter them like lambs. With your abilities, you've found that you're faster, stronger and better than any you come across. They're lambs, and you're a wolf. Any werewolves caught by themselves are torn apart, clawed up or eaten, none able to escape your fury. However, these are just simple targets to take down, not the main threat. The main threat's scent is on your nose, and you're hunting him down.

You enter a large, open room of the mine shaft, and you find it emerging from the darkness.

The Alpha.

The creature stares at you with its one working eye, an eye that seems twisted by malice. It slowly prowls ahead, thin, angular body emerging from the darkness.  It lets out a bark, as the other werewolves in the mine shaft slowly part, moving back to allow you two to fight.

It's a challenge. The Alpha is challenging you for dominance, clearly aware that its position is tenuous, and that if it doesn't take down the new threat, it'll lose the respect of its pack. It's lost Fenrir's favor, and needs to regain it. You won't let it.

Kill! Slaughter! TEAR! BITE! CLAW! HACK! EAT! BLOOD! FLESH! EVISCERATE"

The werewolf lunges forward towards you, as you're left ready to take down the beast.
> You roll to the side and avoid its strike
You roll to the side, dashing past as the Alpha slams into the tunnel wall behind you, unable to stop the weight and speed of its lunge and instead crashing upon itself. It collapses to the ground. It falls upon itself as it scrambles to find its position.

You wonder whether its time to strike, to tear the creature limb for limb while its off-balance, or whether to keep your distance, letting the creature make a few more lunges so the creature can tire itself out, before finishing it off with a few quick and heavy strikes.
> You tear through it with tooth and claw!
You lunge forward, hitting the Alpha by the side and knocking the creature on its side. You bite down on a mouthful of flesh, tearing through fur and hide to chew into human flesh, devouring it as the warm, wet beat slides down your throat. You slash your claws, cutting and carving through the creature's side as it tries to escape from your grip, but finds itself unable. It manages to press its claws against your own, stopping you from striking as it uses its leg to push your body away from its own, to keep its jaw away.

The creature's dazed and wounded, semi-pinned under your weight, but its powerful maw is still lunging out at you, desperately trying to tear out your throat. If you're going to finish it before it gets a lucky blow or manages to turn the situation around, you need to do it quickly.
> You crush its skull!
You swing your claw down towards the creature's skull with all your might. The Alpha snaps its jaw forward, its maw tearing into your swinging arm. The strength of your swing only drives your flesh upon their teeth, as you find your arm locked in the Alpha's jaw as it tears through your flesh. The Alpha bites down with all its strength, tearing through your arm. The force of the bite breaks through bone and tears through muscle, as your arm is torn in two.

You howl, your bleeding limb screaming with pain. You try to scamper away, but lacking one leg, you simply collapse to the ground, leaving the Alpha with the chance to strike. The Alpha tackles you, pinning you to the ground as its maw once again strikes, sinking into your neck and tearing out your throat. A torrential wave of blood bursts forward, staining your blood red and leaving you sinking to the ground, dead before your head hits the soil.


You lunge forward, hitting the Alpha by the side and knocking the creature on its side. You bite down on a mouthful of flesh, tearing through fur and hide to chew into human flesh, devouring it as the warm, wet beat slides down your throat. You slash your claws, cutting and carving through the creature's side as it tries to escape from your grip, but finds itself unable. It manages to press its claws against your own, stopping you from striking as it uses its leg to push your body away from its own, to keep its jaw away.

The creature's dazed and wounded, semi-pinned under your weight, but its powerful maw is still lunging out at you, desperately trying to tear out your throat. If you're going to finish it before it gets a lucky blow or manages to turn the situation around, you need to do it quickly.
> You tear through its underside!
You burst forward, slashing with your claws as you toss the creature onto its back, revealing its bare, undefended stomach. You stab your claws forward, clawing and tearing through flesh as you eviscerate the creatures heart, stomach and intestines. The creatures whines as its devastated, but its body goes limp, collapsing to the ground.

You howl towards the moon, a noise which soon turns to laughter. You turn other werewolves, finding them either fleeing into the woods again or whimpering at you. You laugh, ready to hunt down the mongrels that flee from your sight.

Over the next few hours before sunrise, you hunt down the remaining the werewolves. They flee into the night, but your senses mean they're incapable of escaping and your claws and teeth mean that they're never going to escape from you. Soon, your belly is full with flesh, your hair streaked with blood, and the remaining survivors of the pack finished off or having fled.

You sprint along the ground, instinct running through you as you sprint through the forest, following one of the last werewolves to have fled the scene. You're tight on her tail, ready to finish her off, before you hear a barrage of gunfire. Looking ahead, you hear a burst of gunfire, as you slide to a halt. You slam your claws into a tree and skid to a halt, your eyes staring through the trees as you find yourself staring at a werewolf being gunned down. You quickly disappear into the bushes and undergrowth, staring through as a squad of Hunters appears, no doubt looking for what happened to the rest of you.

You pause, wondering whether to try talk to them, or retreat into the woods and leave the world alone.


You roll to the side, dashing past as the Alpha slams into the tunnel wall behind you, unable to stop the weight and speed of its lunge and instead crashing upon itself. It collapses to the ground. It falls upon itself as it scrambles to find its position.

You wonder whether its time to strike, to tear the creature limb for limb while its off-balance, or whether to keep your distance, letting the creature make a few more lunges so the creature can tire itself out, before finishing it off with a few quick and heavy strikes.
> You wait and let the Alpha tire itself out lunging
You wait patiently, prowling around at the corner of their view. You move slowly around the Alpha, watching intently as you wait for your chance to strike and tear it apart. It doesn't lunge again, perhaps realizing you have the speed to dodge.

However, as you soon learn, they're not your only enemy. You hear a growl from the side, as one of the many werewolves of the pack charges out, leaping through the air as it finds courage. You twist around, slashing with your claws as you roar, the creature retreating with a new set of wounds.

However, this opens up the chance for the Alpha to strike, and he darts out, tackling you. You try to twist, but the creature stands above you, launching its claws against your head and killing you instantly as they impale through your skull.


You walk forward, staring at the wall in front of you. The scenes are in red paint, depicting fearsome werewolves prowling across the wall, chasing simple outlines of human figures. You follow it from right to left, seeing a massive chained wolf howling at the sky at the very left. Despite the brutal simplicity of the drawings, they reflect a certain life, certain realism, a certain bestial energy that's beyond you. You stare inherently, slowly moving your hands towards them.

Your hands slowly edge towards the murals, fingers tracing the outlines of shapes and scenes. The first one depicts a wolf, bound and chained, surrounded by vague outlines of spear-wielding humans. The next depicts a spear wielding human holding a chain in the beasts maw. The next seems to depict a half-man, half-wolf. No doubt the first werewolf, frozen mid transformation in a scream.

You pause, staring at the scene in front of you. Despite the simplistic nature of the drawing, being little more than a stick man with a wolf head and claw, most other duties vague and confusing to you, but it holds impact to you. You can almost hear the faint screams of the man as they turn to howls, feel the familiar pain he went through in your heart. You truly understand him.

As you look on, the pictures seem to beat and hum with an animalistic energy. The next scene shows the werewolf hunting down packs of warriors, catching one by the leg. The next shows the werewolf watching him transform, as once again his painful transformation feels all too familiar to you. Then, you see an image of a pack of werewolves running against the tunnel walls.

The final image shows you the glowing image of the moon, surrounded by a pack of werewolves tearing around Mother Luna. You stare at the moon, watching as the symbol drawing hums and haws with power, glowing in your eyes with a tremendous power beyond human comprehension. You watch, your eyes shining in the reflection.

Bright. Moon. Power! Beast! FENRIR! FENRIR CALLS!

You heard the world shake and shiver around you, as a booming growl fills the tunnels.

"Little one... look at how far you've fallen. Once a proud mortal hunter, now a slave to your bestial urges... my bestial urges," a booming voice growls, tearing through your mind as you feel the urge to howl back at it.

You drop to your knees, clutching your hands to your head, you try to focus on the burn of the silver inside you or your wounds, trying not to let your urges consume you.

"I am Fenrir, God of Beasts, Hróðvitnir, Hound of  Ragnarök, Vánagandr, son of Loki, father of Sköll and Hati Hróðvitnisson, the prophesied killer of Odin, the creator of the werewolves and the Great Maw That Will Consume The World."

Focusing on your pain, you manage to hold back the beast within, but only barely. Focusing on the burning hot silver coals in your chest, the pain of your torn up face and the stab wound in your side that's been jabbed in your side, you hold onto your sanity, your humanity, yourself.

"You've proven yourself strong. Courageous. Violent. Powerful. I wish to make you my champion. I will sharpen your bestial instinct, I will lengthen your claws, broaden your form, strengthen your flesh, harden your bones. I will make you far more powerful than you have been tonight, a true avatar of my form."

You stare ahead at the mural, as the confusing red lines seem to draw together in the growling face of a wolf for a moment, before it becomes too painful to look at.

"Simply... embrace the change. Embrace the beast within. Embrace yourself. I'll even leave you with enough of a mind that you can finish what you started here. All you have to do is to release the beast within, and answer my call!"
> You fIGHT THE CHANGE!
You growl, squeezing your head between your hands as you take a deep breath, focusing on your pain. You focus on the human shape of your hands as they burn with pain, and the feeling of your skin glow with red hot pain, and your humanoid face which burns from silver. You focus on who you are, as you fight off the transformation.

"No," you say. "I won't be doing that."

"So be it," Fenrir grumbles. "I'll leave you to your fate. Rot in it, mortal one. Soon, your mind will be mine anyway."

The roaring noise begins to fade, as the glow of the shifting murals calms, the mural solidifying in front of you. The magical glow that hangs over you fades, and you're left alone in the darkness.

You sigh, turning away from the scene in front of you, not wanting to look at the animalistic mural ahead of you, as all it does it draw out the beast within. You shan't be making any deals with Fenrir, the father of beasts.


You push your head up to the bizarre object, sniffing. The outside seems to be made of burning metal, its very aura unnerving you, but the inside is made of colder metal, and you gently press your nose against it, smelling it. It smells ever so faintly of blood, and...

Suddenly, the device snaps shut, slicing through your nose as you scream out in pain, collapsing back. The object traps your face in its burning saws, sending waves of burning pain through you. Blood pours down your snout as you scream, the tip of your nose messily hacked off, beginning to burn. You yank your face back, breaking free of the device and spraying the area with a light mist of blood as you find yourself collapsing to the ground, darkness hitting you in waves which contrast with the waves of burning pain, as you're left lying there, your body breaking and burning with pain once again.

You don't know whether it's hours, minutes or seconds later, but soon, you find sanity once again. You slowly take breath through your lips, which are torn up, cut and bleeding, your upper lip barely hanging on. Thankfully, the healing factor of the werewolves has left your upper lip scabbing up in a mismatched mess of colors. You nose is heavily damaged, smell somewhat obscured in your left nostril from the dried blood and pus clogging it. You scratch at it, a thin stream of warm blood running down your face. You groan, before finding the strength left in you.

Knowing that it's too late for you to just lay down and die, you take a deep breath, focusing your remaining strength of what you can find inside you. You roll to your knees, resting a hand against the cold earth as you relax your tired muscles, looking around the room.

The room must've been a mineshaft intersection at one point. It's been rigged up with lights and electricity, with a large desk stacked with television screens in the corner of the room. You peer over at them, watching the various scenes of the forest. It must be another bunch of cameras connected to the screens.

Your eyes flicker to the hung up "meat" ahead of you, hanging from the ceiling, as you begin to feel sick. The mutilated, bleeding corpses of Hans Hirsch, Russel Sloane and Father Charles Féval hang from the ceiling, blood dripping down and pooling underneath them. Russel Sloane's been hacked apart, his face a crushed mess, his body missing dozens of chunks of flesh all over him from the pickings the werewolves chewed off him. Hans Hirsh is even less so, his upper body entirely missing, only a pair of legs in gray trousers with black, polished boots. You recognize him from his boots, and his boots alone.

Father Féval's body still bares the marks of your shotgun blast, his chest blown apart, ribs hanging down to the ground. He's the most intact corpse there, yet the most gruesome. His face is stuck forever in an expression of fear and pain, his eyes dead and hollow, completely lifeless. You reach for your knife to cut them down, sighing as you realize its not there, and you're several outfits from the one you dressed yourself in this morning. Hell, maybe you should leave them up there anyway. At least the rats won't get there.

You feel a pang of hunger, and draw your eyes away from your comrades. You won't disgrace them like that.

Scanning the room, you find yourself staring at the table propped up against the wall, stacked with various items. Cellphones, guns, knives, ammo, equipment and an assortment of other items.

At the

Then, there's the tunnel. A long, dark cavern going in the other direction that you've went down. The howls you heard came from down there. That's where the wolves are. That's where you'll need to go to finish this.

You look down at the map ahead of you, a sprawled out blueprints of the mine. Scanning it quickly, your old eyes take in the information you need. Though you're weak in Norway, you manage to make out the notes sprawled across the page. There's a dozen designations across the various areas in the mine. Judging by where you came in, you're in the "Security Room". There's also the "Sleeping Chambers", "(HUMAN) Sleeping Chambers", "Feeding Area", and...

You pause, tapping your finger. The "Mine Equipment Storage Area (Armory)". Given the impressive arsenal of explosives that was at the scout house, there'd be even more explosives there at the armory. Enough to take down a mine. If there's even a fraction more explosives there, there might be enough to collapse the mine on itself and to kill all the beasts that prowl these mines. Perhaps you might find some use there. It's as good a place to start as any, given you won't be able to take down the horde with firearms alone.

You turn your head, hearing a low growl nearby, only to find yourself staring at the blank stone walls. You squint your eyes, making out murals among them. Blood red images crudely painted, depicting fearsome creatures and other scenes. Interesting.
> You gather up the gear you need and take down the pack
You limp over to the table, breathing heavily. You slowly go up to the corpses of your friends, too tired and exhausted to even feel sick or disgusted. You're just a professional doing one more job, you don't have time for disgust.

You strip yourself a mismatched outfit from the corpses to at least afford you some protection from the cold, before grabbing a revolver and holstering it by your side. You grab a knife and sheath, attaching it to your belt, before looking to your shotgun. Running your hands along its familiar contours, you smile, feeling a sense of finality come over you.

"Just one more push," you say to yourself, loading the shells into the cold metal chamber.

Your gear ready and costume on, you look to the map one more time, scanning the paths you can take to get to the equipment area. Once you're sure of the way to go, you head off through the tunnels. Marching through the mine shafts at a reasonable, you keep your shotgun raised and your ears twitching. At this point, the beast is raging again inside of you, its sense allowing you to hear ever creak through the caverns and smell every scent. Its only through focusing on the painful silver throughout your body and fighting the beast every step of the way, but exhaustion is meaning that's getting harder and harder.

Stumbling down the hallway, you hear the distant growls of a werewolf pack echoing off the walls. You flinch, as your ears perk up and you realize that the sounds are growing louder. A group of werewolves, more than one but no more than four or five, are coming. You swear under your breath, ready to fight them off.
> You hide and let them pass
You find a hiding spot along the mineshaft, a collapsing crook in the wall that you can clamber down into the hole. You tighten your body, moving into the cramped place and dusting dirt across onto you, to cover yourself up. You begin waiting, as the growls grow closer and closer.

Soon, the werewolves appear, prowling along the dirt path. They creep forward, heads low as they sniff the air, slowly stumbling

The lead wolf stops, nose flickering as its ears perk up. It sniffs the air, its head turning as its bright eyes zero in on you. It growls, as you realize it's caught your scent.

Lying on your back, undefended and incapable of fighting, the werewolves tear you apart before you can even reach for your weapon.


You limp over to the table, breathing heavily. You slowly go up to the corpses of your friends, too tired and exhausted to even feel sick or disgusted. You're just a professional doing one more job, you don't have time for disgust.

You strip yourself a mismatched outfit from the corpses to at least afford you some protection from the cold, before grabbing a revolver and holstering it by your side. You grab a knife and sheath, attaching it to your belt, before looking to your shotgun. Running your hands along its familiar contours, you smile, feeling a sense of finality come over you.

"Just one more push," you say to yourself, loading the shells into the cold metal chamber.

Your gear ready and costume on, you look to the map one more time, scanning the paths you can take to get to the equipment area. Once you're sure of the way to go, you head off through the tunnels. Marching through the mine shafts at a reasonable, you keep your shotgun raised and your ears twitching. At this point, the beast is raging again inside of you, its sense allowing you to hear ever creak through the caverns and smell every scent. Its only through focusing on the painful silver throughout your body and fighting the beast every step of the way, but exhaustion is meaning that's getting harder and harder.

Stumbling down the hallway, you hear the distant growls of a werewolf pack echoing off the walls. You flinch, as your ears perk up and you realize that the sounds are growing louder. A group of werewolves, more than one but no more than four or five, are coming. You swear under your breath, ready to fight them off.
> You set an ambush
An ambush, if done well enough, could wipe out the werewolves that prowl through the corridors, which would mean you're able to continue your planned route to the storage area. You hold up, prying yourself in cover with your weapon ready.

You see them in the dark mineshaft, a group of four prowling werewolves walking at a slow trot through the tunnels. If you open fire from the distance, you have more time before they reach you to take them all down, but if you open fire from closer, you'll preserve ammo, something you're running short on.
> You wait unitl they're close to make the most of your limited shotgun ammo
You wait for them them to move closer, and closer, watching intently as they come within the definite kill range.

Moving out of cover, you fire, and your first blast blows away a werewolf, sending it slamming into the wall. You swivel, pumping out the used shell and firing again as you take off another werewolf's head, but at this point, they're upon you.

A claw swipe bursts forward, hitting you in the side of head with the force of a baseball bat covered with knives. You hit the mineshaft all with a thud, the world going black and fuzzy as you can feel the warm, wet blood run down your face. You look up, seeing a vague shape lunging towards you.

You don't survive the next strike.


An ambush, if done well enough, could wipe out the werewolves that prowl through the corridors, which would mean you're able to continue your planned route to the storage area. You hold up, prying yourself in cover with your weapon ready.

You see them in the dark mineshaft, a group of four prowling werewolves walking at a slow trot through the tunnels. If you open fire from the distance, you have more time before they reach you to take them all down, but if you open fire from closer, you'll preserve ammo, something you're running short on.
> You open fire as soon as you see them, giving you distance from them
You open fire, the first blast of shards of silver and magnesium tearing through the werewolves side, causing it to stumble, but at this distance and with your weakened aiming stance, you don't take it down. You pump your shotgun, the pack of werewolves nearing as you fire again. This round slams directly into a lupine head, killing it in one blast as its body rolls to a halt. You reload, firing again as you blow away a werewolf's front leg, causing it to fall and stumble, smacking into the ground with a spray of blood. You reload again, but by this time they're upon you. You raise your rifle, as a werewolf leaps forward, tackling you with a howl.

You hit the ground with a thud, ramming your shotgun barrel against the underside of the creature's chest. Its jaws clamp down on your face, tearing through flesh, skin and cartilage. You fire, the werewolf hit straight through its chest, blowing the werewolf off you and killing it instantly.

You roll to the side to try stand, as the other werewolf hits you from the side, knocking you down with a swipe of its claw, cutting through your side and carving open ribs. You scream out, as the werewolf lunges forward, landing on your neck and crushing your windpipe with a stomp and killing you instantly.


You limp over to the table, breathing heavily. You slowly go up to the corpses of your friends, too tired and exhausted to even feel sick or disgusted. You're just a professional doing one more job, you don't have time for disgust.

You strip yourself a mismatched outfit from the corpses to at least afford you some protection from the cold, before grabbing a revolver and holstering it by your side. You grab a knife and sheath, attaching it to your belt, before looking to your shotgun. Running your hands along its familiar contours, you smile, feeling a sense of finality come over you.

"Just one more push," you say to yourself, loading the shells into the cold metal chamber.

Your gear ready and costume on, you look to the map one more time, scanning the paths you can take to get to the equipment area. Once you're sure of the way to go, you head off through the tunnels. Marching through the mine shafts at a reasonable, you keep your shotgun raised and your ears twitching. At this point, the beast is raging again inside of you, its sense allowing you to hear ever creak through the caverns and smell every scent. Its only through focusing on the painful silver throughout your body and fighting the beast every step of the way, but exhaustion is meaning that's getting harder and harder.

Stumbling down the hallway, you hear the distant growls of a werewolf pack echoing off the walls. You flinch, as your ears perk up and you realize that the sounds are growing louder. A group of werewolves, more than one but no more than four or five, are coming. You swear under your breath, ready to fight them off.
> You fall back and find another way
You turn, quickly hurrying back along the mineshaft at a light job. You try move at a reasonable speed, dealing with your exhaustion as best as you can. You struggle to remember the map's various roots to your destination, and manage to turn off where you're supposed to, heading through the halls at a light jog.

You have to move quick to avoid the prowling werewolves, but your senses mean that by time they hear you, you hear them, and you manage to move quickly to avoid the bastards.

It takes some time, but you manage to come across the heavy wooden door to the armory, a dusty "Equipment Storage Area" sign above the door. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Your journey's nearly over now.
> You fire through the door!
You raise your shotgun, aiming through the door as you try to target where a sitting man's head would be or a standing man's heart. You take a deep breath, before squeezing the trigger.

The shotgun bucks, the blast tearing through the door and carving a hole, wood breaking, cracking and splintering from the blast. You hear a grunt from inside, quickly reloading as you stare through the hole, seeing a limp man lying in a chair, blood running down his chest.

You wince as you hear the shot echoing off the wall, realizing just how loud it was. That'll no doubt draw the attention of the werewolves, so you need to act fast. You reach through the newly formed hole in the door, unlatching the door lock and opening the door. You move into the room, staring around it at the racks of equipment. Most of it is useless to you, picks, shovels and other mining tools. Most importantly, however, are your targets. Racks of C4, plastic explosives, dynamite and timed explosives are stacked haphazardly in crates in the corner, no doubt to be used for sabotage and destruction by the werewolves' servants, and the werewolves in their human forms. You smile, seeing nothing but potential there. There's definitely enough to wipe out these sons of bitches and bring this mine down on its...

A growl interrupts you from your planning, as you turn to see a group of werewolves racing down the mineshaft towards the armory, no doubt attracted by the gunshot. You swear, seeing how close they are, and that you've already damaged the door beyond repair, leaving you with little defenses against them.

"Fuck!" you snarl, seeing the werewolves quickly approach, a large, black creature with streaks of gray in its fur taking lead, as you hurry with the explosives, trying to arm them in time as you fumble with triggers.

The werewolf claw tears through the bullet hole from the shotgun, claws tearing through splintering wood and breaking past it as it quickly carves its path through the door. It lunges through the hole, barreling on top of you as you scream, shaking desperately to get the beast off you, before it finishes you off with a weak claw strike that tears through your neck and carves open your spinal cord.


You turn, quickly hurrying back along the mineshaft at a light job. You try move at a reasonable speed, dealing with your exhaustion as best as you can. You struggle to remember the map's various roots to your destination, and manage to turn off where you're supposed to, heading through the halls at a light jog.

You have to move quick to avoid the prowling werewolves, but your senses mean that by time they hear you, you hear them, and you manage to move quickly to avoid the bastards.

It takes some time, but you manage to come across the heavy wooden door to the armory, a dusty "Equipment Storage Area" sign above the door. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Your journey's nearly over now.
> You knock on the door
You knock on the heavy wooden door, a loud knocking noise ringing through the mineshaft. You wait for a moment, as the noise echoes off before being replaced by silence. For a moment, you worry no one's actually inside, before you're answered.

"What is it?" a gruff, manic voice comes through the door. "What?"

Time to think of a lie to get him to open the door. Quick!
> You say "I'm here to relieve you from guard duty!"
"I'm here to relieve you from guard duty."

"Thank fuck," the voice answers. "I haven't eaten in hours. Those fucking Hunters need to learn their place, god dammit. Two secs."

The door clicks unlocked, before swinging open. A weak, skinny figure stumbles out, his height only further stretching his gaunt frame becoming almost skeletal. His manic eyes spot you as he realizes he's been tricked, but you're far faster and better prepared than he is, moving forward swiftly with your knife drawn. You slice your blade into his stomach, moving up through the ribs and killing him instantly. He gasps as you continue to slice through his flesh. He goes weak, as you push his limp body to the ground. You grab him under his armpit, dragging him into the room and closing the door behind you.

You move into the room, staring around it at the racks of equipment. Most of it is useless to you, picks, shovels and other mining tools. Most importantly, however, are your targets. Racks of C4, plastic explosives, dynamite and timed explosives are stacked haphazardly in crates in the corner, no doubt to be used for sabotage and destruction by the werewolves' servants, and the werewolves in their human forms. You smile, seeing nothing but potential there. There's definitely enough to wipe out these sons of bitches and bring this mine down on itself.
> You rig this place up
Your work with explosives isn't exemplary, but as a Hunter, you've worked with it before. You've done basic training in using them in the field, and even used them in hunting before. Triggering an avalanche to take out a pack of starved ghouls born from starved, lost, cannibalistic campers, a demolition of a ghost-ridden house and even using a grenade to take out a cultist's van.

So, while this is a step up, it's not beyond you.

You work quickly in setting up the explosives piling dynamite and fire-ignition based explosives as a base for the stacks of plastic explosives, all linked to the trigger of a simple timer. The work is hard, focusing being near impossible due to the ravenous hunger of the beast within, but you focus on your task and keep working, focusing on your pain when needs be.

You set it for three minutes, adding an additional back-up timer hidden away under the stack so that if the first one is found and disabled, the disarmer is in for a serious surprise.

Your job finished, you lean back, sighing as you stare ahead of you. As the ticking slowly continues, you wonder what's left to do.
> You wait for death
Ash and Silver

You stare at the explosives, watching as it slowly ticks away. You breathe slowly, feeling the beast within howl and roar. Just a few minutes now. Soon, this hellish night will come to an end. You breathe slowly, a smile on your face as you weakly watch the clicking counter. It's time for this all to end. As the timer clicks to the last few seconds, you laugh, a freeing sound as you shake off all your worries and stress, your terrors and your nightmares, and just lets you feel free for the first time tonight.

You expect a flash and a bang, but it doesn't come. Instead, the world just suddenly goes dark as the desperate, clawing, howling beast within you get pulled down into the depths of darkness with you.

The mine erupt in a wave of ash and fire, the mines collapsing down itself and burying the entire mine shaft in a pile of rubble and earth, nothing but a mass grave now. The mine collapsed upon the werewolves' lair, everything inside is killed almost instantly, you included. As the sun rises on a new morning, chasing the moon from the sky, there's an air of hope left. The werewolf menace is defeated, the pack wiped out, the few survivors fleeing through the forest to where they'll be mopped up by the Hunters come to figure out what's happened you.

The werewolf menace is wiped out, and the creatures that threatened to rule the night are left as nothing. The hold of the moon broken, nothing's left of the world. Although your thirteenth hunt has come to an end, as has you, you've done your duty. The dark things that plague the night, creatures made from darkness and nightmares that feed upon the blood and flesh of the innocent and that rule the night and loathe the living, are slaughtered like lambs, and it is safe to walk the night once more.


Your work with explosives isn't exemplary, but as a Hunter, you've worked with it before. You've done basic training in using them in the field, and even used them in hunting before. Triggering an avalanche to take out a pack of starved ghouls born from starved, lost, cannibalistic campers, a demolition of a ghost-ridden house and even using a grenade to take out a cultist's van.

So, while this is a step up, it's not beyond you.

You work quickly in setting up the explosives piling dynamite and fire-ignition based explosives as a base for the stacks of plastic explosives, all linked to the trigger of a simple timer. The work is hard, focusing being near impossible due to the ravenous hunger of the beast within, but you focus on your task and keep working, focusing on your pain when needs be.

You set it for three minutes, adding an additional back-up timer hidden away under the stack so that if the first one is found and disabled, the disarmer is in for a serious surprise.

Your job finished, you lean back, sighing as you stare ahead of you. As the ticking slowly continues, you wonder what's left to do.
> You try find your way out of the yours shaft before the timer goes off
You stand up, weakly standing. You find what little strength remains in you, and decide to get out of there. You want to see the moon one last time. You take up a jog, hurrying as quickly as you can. The armory's located relatively close to a way out of the mineshaft, so you break into a run, hurrying through the mine shaft. You run as fast as you can, hurrying along the pathways.

A werewolf appears in front of you, and you fire your shotgun, blowing a gaping hole in the beasts neck and putting it down. You keep running forward, leaping over the dying beast as it falls quickly. You keep heading with as much speed as you can, using your senses to avoid werewolf patrols as you hurry ahead. Suddenly, you see it. The beams of pale moonlight descending from the sky, beaming into the edge of the mineshaft. Seeing it so close, you continue running, quickly, making

You stumble out of the mineshaft, heading out into the moonlight once again. You hurl yourself forward, scampering out into the light as you collapse on the ground, breathing heavily. You turn your head, staring back to the mineshaft.

About twenty seconds later, the ground shakes as the mineshaft erupts, flames bursting along the mine shaft as the mine shaft collapses in on itself, earth collapsing in to fill the tunnel. The ground shakes as the sky roars, ash and smoke billowing up towards the sky. You laugh, a freeing sound as you shake off all your worries and stress, your terrors and your nightmares, and just lets you feel free for the first time tonight.

You feel the beast prowling in your heart, tearing at your body as it tries to get free. Your shotgun is heavy as your hands, as you stare at the smoke pour from the collapsed mineshaft, billowing up into the sky. The howls that have permeated the night are over, and the moon's power wanes in the sky. It'll be an hour or two before the sun rises, but you're finished here.

Your mission is complete, your allies avenged. With the werewolf pack defeated, you feel nothing but relief. You rest your tired head on your shotgun, staring ahead.
> You take your own life
Ash and Silver

You raise the rifle to your head, taking it in your arms as you press the bottom of your chin against the gun barrel. You prop the gun upwards, aiming it so that it should go through your skull and out the top of your head. You reach down, pressing your finger against the trigger. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You're finished your work tonight. You've avenged your comrades, and defeated the threat.

You feel the pangs of hunger tear through you again as the beast awakens, roaring through your entire essence. You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the urge to scream. You slowly release your breath, before pressing down on the trigger.

The gun fires, and the silver bullets tear through your chin, bursting up through your skull, blowing apart your brain and shooting out the top of your skull. Darkness shrouds over you, and you can feel the desperate, clawing, howling beast within you get pulled down into the depths of darkness with you.

The mist of your red blood mixes with the ash-filled air and the silver shards that hit the dust. As the sun rises, chasing the moon from the sky. The mine collapsed upon the werewolves' lair, no survivors are left. The werewolf menace is defeated, the pack wiped out, the few survivors fleeing through the forest to where they'll be mopped up by the Hunters come to figure out what's happened you.

The werewolf menace is wiped out, and the creatures that threatened to rule the night are left as nothing. The hold of the moon broken, nothing's left of the world. Although your thirteenth hunt has come to an end, as has you, you've done your duty. The dark things that plague the night, creatures made from darkness and nightmares that feed upon the blood and flesh of the innocent and that rule the night and loathe the living, are slaughtered like lambs, and it is safe to walk the night once more.


You stand up, weakly standing. You find what little strength remains in you, and decide to get out of there. You want to see the moon one last time. You take up a jog, hurrying as quickly as you can. The armory's located relatively close to a way out of the mineshaft, so you break into a run, hurrying through the mine shaft. You run as fast as you can, hurrying along the pathways.

A werewolf appears in front of you, and you fire your shotgun, blowing a gaping hole in the beasts neck and putting it down. You keep running forward, leaping over the dying beast as it falls quickly. You keep heading with as much speed as you can, using your senses to avoid werewolf patrols as you hurry ahead. Suddenly, you see it. The beams of pale moonlight descending from the sky, beaming into the edge of the mineshaft. Seeing it so close, you continue running, quickly, making

You stumble out of the mineshaft, heading out into the moonlight once again. You hurl yourself forward, scampering out into the light as you collapse on the ground, breathing heavily. You turn your head, staring back to the mineshaft.

About twenty seconds later, the ground shakes as the mineshaft erupts, flames bursting along the mine shaft as the mine shaft collapses in on itself, earth collapsing in to fill the tunnel. The ground shakes as the sky roars, ash and smoke billowing up towards the sky. You laugh, a freeing sound as you shake off all your worries and stress, your terrors and your nightmares, and just lets you feel free for the first time tonight.

You feel the beast prowling in your heart, tearing at your body as it tries to get free. Your shotgun is heavy as your hands, as you stare at the smoke pour from the collapsed mineshaft, billowing up into the sky. The howls that have permeated the night are over, and the moon's power wanes in the sky. It'll be an hour or two before the sun rises, but you're finished here.

Your mission is complete, your allies avenged. With the werewolf pack defeated, you feel nothing but relief. You rest your tired head on your shotgun, staring ahead.
> You watch the smoke billow up
You stare at the rising plumes of smoke as they ascend into the sky, the brightness of the moon struggling to shine through the smoke. You watch as the sky slowly grows dark, as darkness crowds around the corner of your vision, slowly moving inward as you grow weak. Soon, you find yourself being pulled into the darkness as your vision goes dark, your body growing still.

Suddenly, the pain bursts through you as you begin shuddering in pain. You grit your teeth, trying to hold in your urge to scream as you feel the change one more time. You struggle to defeat the beast inside your soul, but you're too weak and exhausted to do so, as the beast consumes your broken spirit with ease. You growl, your body twisting and breaking as you're torn apart and reformed into your lupine form. The pain is almost familiar to you now, as you quickly turn to the predator body that your instincts are familiar with. As you shake and shudder with pain, you find turned back to the brutal beast that has been residing in your heart this entire time.

Slowly, the pain begins to subside, but you find your mind incapable of reforming, still incapable of focusing in any regard. You shake your head with a growl, feeling the air blow through your fur, the smell of nearby prey, the crunching of soil under your paws. With your human form broken and exhausted, the beast is able to shake off any remaining onces of anger. You feel the powerful call of the moon above you, feeling relieved and stronger than ever.

Yes... that's it. It calls. Survivors of the pack, out hunting when the mines collapsed. They're scared, terrified, looking for a leader. You are that leader. Suddenly, instinct takes over, and you find yourself sprinting through the woods, howling into the sky.

An array of howls answer back, and you follow the call, answering with your own powerful howl.

Wolves. Pack. Call! Strong! POWER! HUNT!

Now is your moment to gather the wolves, the beast within finally coming to howl in the light of the moon.


You knock on the heavy wooden door, a loud knocking noise ringing through the mineshaft. You wait for a moment, as the noise echoes off before being replaced by silence. For a moment, you worry no one's actually inside, before you're answered.

"What is it?" a gruff, manic voice comes through the door. "What?"

Time to think of a lie to get him to open the door. Quick!
> You say "We need reinforcements! The Hunters are nearby!"
"We need reinforcements! The Hunters are nearby!"

"I know, dammit! They're all over these fucking woods, that's why they put me on guard duty! Make sure they can't take control of our weapons and blow this fucking place up! Just go search through the tunnels, try find them, do something useful, fucker!"

Well shit, that didn't work. You suppose there's only one way in left.
> You just shoot through the door
"Oh for fuck's sake," you mutter.

You raise your shotgun, aiming through the door as you try to target where a sitting man's head would be or a standing man's heart. You take a deep breath, before squeezing the trigger.

The shotgun bucks, the blast tearing through the door and carving a hole, wood breaking, cracking and splintering from the blast. You hear a grunt from inside, quickly reloading as you stare through the hole, seeing a limp man lying in a chair, blood running down his chest.

You wince as you hear the shot echoing off the wall, realizing just how loud it was. That'll no doubt draw the attention of the werewolves, so you need to act fast. You reach through the newly formed hole in the door, unlatching the door lock and opening the door. You move into the room, staring around it at the racks of equipment. Most of it is useless to you, picks, shovels and other mining tools. Most importantly, however, are your targets. Racks of C4, plastic explosives, dynamite and timed explosives are stacked haphazardly in crates in the corner, no doubt to be used for sabotage and destruction by the werewolves' servants, and the werewolves in their human forms. You smile, seeing nothing but potential there. There's definitely enough to wipe out these sons of bitches and bring this mine down on its...

A growl interrupts you from your planning, as you turn to see a group of werewolves racing down the mineshaft towards the armory, no doubt attracted by the gunshot. You swear, seeing how close they are, and that you've already damaged the door beyond repair, leaving you with little defenses against them.

"Fuck!" you snarl, seeing the werewolves quickly approach, a large, black creature with streaks of gray in its fur taking lead, as you hurry with the explosives, trying to arm them in time as you fumble with triggers.

The werewolf claw tears through the bullet hole from the shotgun, claws tearing through splintering wood and breaking past it as it quickly carves its path through the door. It lunges through the hole, barreling on top of you as you scream, shaking desperately to get the beast off you, before it finishes you off with a weak claw strike that tears through your neck and carves open your spinal cord.


You knock on the heavy wooden door, a loud knocking noise ringing through the mineshaft. You wait for a moment, as the noise echoes off before being replaced by silence. For a moment, you worry no one's actually inside, before you're answered.

"What is it?" a gruff, manic voice comes through the door. "What?"

Time to think of a lie to get him to open the door. Quick!
> You say "Open up! NOW!"
"Open up! NOW!" you snarl, smacking your fist heavily against the heavy wooden door.

"I've orders t...!" a worried voice comes back, seeming put off by the anger evident in your voice.

I swear to fuck, i will tear out your throat myself and tear you apart, motherfucker!" you roar.

"Shit, shit, OK!" the voice answers, as you hear the door hastily be unlocked.

It seems the bestial, pack-based hierarchal nature of the wolf pack and its servants means that acting aggressively shows dominance and scares the weaker members into following you.

The door clicks unlocked, before swinging open. A weak, skinny figure stumbles out, his height only further stretching his gaunt frame becoming almost skeletal. His manic eyes spot you as he realizes he's been tricked, but you're far faster and better prepared than he is, moving forward swiftly with your knife drawn. You slice your blade into his stomach, moving up through the ribs and killing him instantly. He gasps as you continue to slice through his flesh. He goes weak, as you push his limp body to the ground. You grab him under his armpit, dragging him into the room and closing the door behind you.

Now alone in the room, you stare around it at the racks of equipment. Most of it is useless to you, picks, shovels and other mining tools. Most importantly, however, are your targets. Racks of C4, plastic explosives, dynamite and timed explosives are stacked haphazardly in crates in the corner, no doubt to be used for sabotage and destruction by the werewolves' servants, and the werewolves in their human forms. You smile, seeing nothing but potential there. There's definitely enough to wipe out these sons of bitches and bring this mine down on itself.

"Perfect," you chuckle weakly, barely any strength left in you.


You double down, catching in the Albino in a deadly embrace, forcing it back. Your reflexes, your speed and your abilities are far outpaced by the creature, who has had far more time to get used to its body. However, strength might be something you have. You're a tough, hardy man and far stronger than the average man, so perhaps in your lupine form you'll the stronger of this pair.

You dig your hind legs in, ramming forward as you force the beast back. The Albino yelps, attempting to shove you aside, but you've caught it now, and you're able to twist it around as you launch it against the wall. The Albino smacks up against the wall, sliding down it as its covered in a thick layer of dirt, before you burst forward, raking your claws across the Albino's chest. You slash your claws forward, tearing out the creature's stomach as you hack into its ribs. The creature howls out in pain, weakly jabbing its claws at you as you step back in one quick dodge.

You growl, watching the dying creature in front of you. Your stomach begs you to give up any semblance of weakness, to tear into this meal and feast, but some small, weak little voice reminds you that you have a mission to do. You could leave the beast here to bleed to death, with no hope of it surviving the lethal wounds you've caused, or you could crush its skull and end its life now.
> You leave the beast bleed
The creature deserves to suffer like you have for what it's done to you. You snarl, shaking your head as you look down at the broken creature. It whines, looking up at you with a desperate, broken expression. The pain of its lethal wounds mean that it's simply so pain-wracked that it's lost all sentience or intelligence, now simply left as a pain-filled beast trying to find respite. You grin viciously down at it, before turning, heading deep into the darkness of the tunnel and leaving its desperate whines behind you.

You spend several minutes walking through the darkness, before you find yourself prowling through a new plethora of senses. You find yourself in a large, cavernous room, glowing with golden light. A bonfire sits in the center of the cavern, warming your tired bones. Three corpses of cooked meat hang from the ceiling, blood dripping down in an appetizing fashion. You stare at them, licking your lips for a moment, before changing focus. There's a row of strange, bright glowing lights to the side, showing bizarre tiny forests in the distance. A metal table sits to the side, covered with strange objects, alongside a wall where many more things hang.

Light. Heat. Warm. Fire! Bright! EAT! Meat! Flesh! Kill! FEED! NOISES! HUMANS! KILL! SLAUGHTER!

You shake your head, your mind awash with new sensations, trying to let your instincts take over. You calm yourself, and your eyes flicker open as you examine the room. You find yourself smelling what looks to be dried blood, encrusted on one of the bizarre objects. You dip your snout forward, examining it cautiously. It seems to be covered in burning metal and cold metal, a bizarre combination of the two strange materials.

You pause, hearing the sound of distant howling down the tunnels. It doesn't seem to be drawing closer, instead drawing fainter and fainter as the pack of werewolves screaming goes further and further a way. You feel drawn to it, curious as to what it could be, but a small mind deep in your head seems to recognize the object with a strange familiarity.


You roll your legs under the bulk of the Albino's weight, breathing heavily as you try to find your strength. You snarl, forcing your legs forwards as you force the creature back. You pause, building your strength for one moment, before using your legs to launch the beast at the wall.

The Albino is launched against the wall, knocking against the earthen mine wall as it collapses to the ground with a thud. The creature growls, standing up as it moves forward, raising its clawed hands as it attempts to ram you against the wall, catching you in the bestial version of a rugby scrum. You raise your arms, grabbing them and trying to keep it from biting out your throat in a rage, standing on your hindlegs as you're ready to retreat.
> You dODGE! Dart back, let it strike and hit its flank!
You dodge back, retreating to avoid a fearsome bite, before sliding to the side, quickly retreating as your paws pounce along the mine cart tracks. You roll to avoid the Albino's lunge, before it manages to hit you from the side, grabbing your head and bouncing it against the wall. You shake off any potential concussion just in time to roll under a claw.

The Albino's faster than you, its reflexes sharper, its abilities far greater as its hunted with its lupine body many a time, while you're entirely new to it.

The Albino catches you with a claw, knocking away your hindleg. You stumble forward, before the Albino grabs your head with a pair of clawed paws, smashing your head against the ground with a pained scream, before the werewolf lands the full force of its strength on your skull, splitting it in two.


You find yourself howling, your body transforming in a mere moment, incapable of holding off the change for any longer. The fur bursts from your skin as it toughens and tears, your body stretching in an instant. Your teeth, a mouthful of ivory blades, are revealed as you open your jaw. You smash into the Albino, tearing it through the air and smashing it off the tunnel wall. The creature bounces off the wall, before rolling to its feet and leaping forward with one pounce, lunging for you. You snarl, batting it aside with a pair of claws, slashing as its face at the creature pins you to the ground.

The other beast is strong, fast and deadly, the creature being far more used to its bestial body than you are. The creature wields its fangs like daggers, its claws like swords, its weight a crushing wrecking ball, every feature of it turned into a weapon of death and slaughter. However, it's no doubt transformed from poorer stock than you, once having been a normal human rather than a Hunter like yourself, who dedicated their life to the craft of hunting. By how you reckon, the Albino has the advantage, but you won't be going down without a fight.

You struggle against his grip, pinned against the stone, struggling to get out from it's weight, as its gnashing teeth comes towards your throat, its mouth caught in a fearsome howl.
> You slash your claws at the werewolf's eyes
You move your claw under the creature's weight, before jabbing your claws forward in an attempt to hack out the creature's eyes. Your long, sharp claws razor along the Albino's face, carving off chunks of pale white hair and bits of flesh. You miss the eyes, carving out the top of its brow with a deep gouge.

The werewolf snarls, throwing itself off you in an attempt to escape another claw attack. Blood rushes down its face, staining its pale fur and filling its eyes with its own blood. The Albino shakes its head as it tries to see, stumbling into the wall of the mineshaft as you manage to roll to your feet, ready to kill.

The creature yelps, desperately trying to back up, shaking its head to get the blood out of its eyes to let it see again. You have a moment where the creature is confused, scared and on the back foot, but hurrying to recover, leaving you wondering whether it's time to land the killing blow.
> You tear out their throat!
With the creature weakened, you burst forward, pouncing with a solid leap as you grab the creature in your claws, pushing it against the wall in one solid move, revealing its throat, completely open to you and available to your tooth-filled jaws. You jab forward, landing a bite on the jaw. You dig your teeth in as hard as you can, feeling a burst of joy as a wave of blood hits you, tearing free of the creature's flesh and fresh, warm blood runs down your throat. You gulp it down eagerly, before tearing out the chunk of flesh with one solid motion.

The creature's throat is left as a bloody hole. You watch as the creature begins to choke and drown on its blood, the Albino spasming pathetically in front of you as it weakly paws at your neck and trying to breathe as the light fades from its eyes.

You growl, watching the dying creature in front of you. Your stomach begs you to give up any semblance of weakness, to tear into this meal and feast, but some small, weak little voice reminds you that you have a mission to do. You could leave the beast here to bleed to death, with no hope of it surviving the lethal wounds you've caused, or you could crush its skull and end its life now.


You move your claw under the creature's weight, before jabbing your claws forward in an attempt to hack out the creature's eyes. Your long, sharp claws razor along the Albino's face, carving off chunks of pale white hair and bits of flesh. You miss the eyes, carving out the top of its brow with a deep gouge.

The werewolf snarls, throwing itself off you in an attempt to escape another claw attack. Blood rushes down its face, staining its pale fur and filling its eyes with its own blood. The Albino shakes its head as it tries to see, stumbling into the wall of the mineshaft as you manage to roll to your feet, ready to kill.

The creature yelps, desperately trying to back up, shaking its head to get the blood out of its eyes to let it see again. You have a moment where the creature is confused, scared and on the back foot, but hurrying to recover, leaving you wondering whether it's time to land the killing blow.
> You wait; bide your time
You wait, standing back and waiting for a better chance to land the killing blow. The Albino repositions itself, growling cautiously as it retreats a few meters down the dark tunnel, refusing to near you in its snarl.

The Albino repositions itself, now more cautious, the cunning glow in its eyes brightening as it stares at you. With a growl, it steps forward, ready to strike again. It moves forward with a quick few steps, as you find yourself trying to dodge strike after strike.

The creature knocks away your foreleg, moving with quick speed. You hop up, trying to leap over the beast, but it catches your underside with a rake  of its claw, tearing open your chest. You fly through the air, hitting the wall and sliding to the ground, your belly messily hacked open, your ribs broken. You try to stand, before the werewolf leaps forward, smashing its claw down. The creature buries its claw into your throat, severing your windpipe and spurting blood out and pooling it around you.

You try to let out a terrified, pathetic howl, only to find your gurgling on your own blood. Unable to find the strength to keep your head up, you lower it into the warm pool of blood, letting the darkness take you.


You find yourself howling, your body transforming in a mere moment, incapable of holding off the change for any longer. The fur bursts from your skin as it toughens and tears, your body stretching in an instant. Your teeth, a mouthful of ivory blades, are revealed as you open your jaw. You smash into the Albino, tearing it through the air and smashing it off the tunnel wall. The creature bounces off the wall, before rolling to its feet and leaping forward with one pounce, lunging for you. You snarl, batting it aside with a pair of claws, slashing as its face at the creature pins you to the ground.

The other beast is strong, fast and deadly, the creature being far more used to its bestial body than you are. The creature wields its fangs like daggers, its claws like swords, its weight a crushing wrecking ball, every feature of it turned into a weapon of death and slaughter. However, it's no doubt transformed from poorer stock than you, once having been a normal human rather than a Hunter like yourself, who dedicated their life to the craft of hunting. By how you reckon, the Albino has the advantage, but you won't be going down without a fight.

You struggle against his grip, pinned against the stone, struggling to get out from it's weight, as its gnashing teeth comes towards your throat, its mouth caught in a fearsome howl.
> You swing the creature to the side and roll on top of it to take the advantage
You begin rocking side to side, moving back and forth with several quick motions attempting to rock the creature's body with what little strength you have, before rolling to the side. You twist your body around, attempting to knock the creature off you, only to find the werewolf's weight and strength far outnumbers you ability to kick the creature off. You find your body twisted, your legs off to the side as you're left stuck under the Albino.

With your body trapped and incapable of moving, the Albino lets out a low, rumbling noise with satisfaction, knowing its kill is assured. The creature raises a clawed hand, slowly slicing it across your snout and leaving deep gouges across your face as you howl out in pain. You attempt to burst free, but the creature places a heavy paw on your head, before sending it forward with crushing speed and snapping your neck in an instant.


You stare down the cavernous maw that sticks out of the earth. The darkness almost solidifies around you, attempting to consume your sanity. You focus your senses, as when the suffocating darkness steals your sight, your smell and hearing amplify. You can hear the near silent wind blow through the tunnel, nostrils flaring as you take as you smell the scent of coal dust and dirt. The scents begin to shift, as you detect a new smell. Fresh blood and the smell of a wild beast traveling through the tunnel. The sound of paws creeping along iron mine tracks and soft dirt begins just detectable.

Your eyes narrow, as down the tunnel, a form cuts through the darkness. The creature's thin body is covered with a thick layer of white fur, a pair of red, blood-filled eyes becoming clear, shining in the dark. A maw of sharpened daggers becomes clear, as the Albino arrives.

You recognize the creature from earlier. The one who bit you. The one who cursed you like this. You snarl, your gun tightening in your hands. The Albino's eyes flicker and you wonder if it recognizes you. There's an intellect there beyond what you've seen, in animals, or even in other werewolves. The creature growls, and you know it recognizes you.

Your body shakes, the Albino's growl sending the beast into overdrive. Your hairy arms tense as your muscles bulge, your tongue flickering along your sharpened teeth. You let out a growl, eyes narrowing as you ready yourself to kill. You let out a loud roar which echoes down the tunnel, your fingernails toughening and sharpening to pre-transformation claws that dig into the wood of your rifle.
> You open fire!
You raise your rifle, shouldering it in one quick motion as you aim as the approaching werewolf, targeting it directly in your sights, but the creature's too fast. It bounces off the wall, sprinting along the ground as it leaps from wall to wall, digging its claws into the wall as it clambers about the tunnel. You swing your rifle from side to side, trying to get sights on it, but the creature's faster, roaring down the tunnel. You begin to backpedal, but you're not even close to the speed of the wolf, and it quickly catches up.

The werewolf leaps down from the wall, swiping a claw at you. The claw catches your arm, slicing through your flesh as you scream and sending your gun flying from your arm and bouncing against the wall. You scream, toppling over, as the werewolf lands its clawed foot on your head, crushing it instantly.


You walk through the woods slowly, heading towards the scent. It draws nearer, the smell of smoke and coal becoming clear. It's a long, painful walk, and you find yourself scratching at your limbs, growling and shaking your head. The beast within is awakening again, as you run your tongue along your sharpened teeth, the taste of your own blood filling your own mouth. Your stomach growls, and the veil of darkness lifts as your supernatural eyes adjust to the darkness. Still, you focus on the burning pain in your chest and now, your stab wound, allowing the pain to consume you, bringing you just to the point where walking becomes impossible, all to stave off the wolf spirit howling to get out.

It's not long, however, before you find your way to the mines. The earth begins to widen, revealing a huge, cavernous maw sticking out of the earth, a huge hole in the ground leading to darkness. The opening of the mineshaft. A light plume of smoke billows out from the mineshaft, as you can smell the scent of fresh meat and blood down below, the smell of wolves prowling and... strangely enough, diesel drifting out with its stink.

You stare into the darkness, gun in your hands, as you prepare to go in.

"Going in?"

You turn your head, finding the patchwork fool standing in front of you. His eyes are still badly burned, although from this close, it seems more like its from a caustic chemical or animal venom rather than heat or fire. He grins at you, winking.

"I was planning to," you say. "Going to tell me who you are yet?"

"Maybe. Fancy another riddle?"

"What the fuck is it with you and riddles?"

"I like them," the Fool shrugs. "I used to be more of a pranks guy, but it's no use drawing attention to myself when I manage to get unbound, so riddles will have to do."

"Unbound? Are you a ghost? A trapped spirit? It would explain some things," you say quietly, not wanting to risk dealing with them.

"Nothing of the sort! I'm far more powerful," the Fool says. "I'd make the threat you're dealing with look like chump change, you know."

"Glad you're not my enemy, then," you say, before pausing. "Are you?"

"Of course not! Just a friendly visitor, curious to see what'll happen. I know a lot about werewolves. I remember watching the first one change. God, the terror he felt."

"You saw the first change?" you ask cautiously.

"I did indeed," the Fool smiles. "I saw when they chained up my dear old Fenrir, for nothing more than being scary. That's what they tend to do, you know," the Fool says, pointing to his eyes. "But, every so often, Fenrir would get just a bit lose, and some brave mortal would need to toss a new chain on him. One brave soul got too close, and Fenrir managed to bite him. That was the first of their kind. Now, they've spread throughout the world, all from that one mortal who felt it was fair to lock up a creature that had done nothing wrong. Cruel bastards the lot of them," the Fool mutters.

You pause, trying to discern whether this is the fool's insane ramblings, a metaphor, a literal truth or something else entirely. For as long as you stare at the grinning bastard, you can't tell.

"Anything else you wanted to tell me?" you say dismissively, not willing to play the Fool's games.

"Nothing to tell, but something to ask. Care for another riddle?"

"Fuck's sake," you mutter. "What the hell does this matter?"

The Fool smiles, before grinning.

"So! A lost shepard met two hunters, the first of who had three loaves and the second who had five loaves. All the loaves were the same size. The three men agreed to share the eight loaves equally between them. After they had eaten, the hunter gave the shepherds eight bronze coins as payment for his meal. How should the two shepherds fairly divide this money?"
> One piece to the first hunter, seven to the second
"You give one piece to the first hunter, and the other seven to the second."

"Yes, another answer! Gods, I really like you!"

"Is it right?"

The Fool shrugs, smiling at you.

"Who knows? I'll be off, anyway, my eyes are beginning to burn," he says, scratching at his burned up eyes. "Good luck in there. Shame it's not a silver mine, am I right?"

He smiles, grinning, as you snarl. He raises his hands defensively, shrugging.

"Fine, fine, I'll be on my way. Best of luck in there, Willy."

You don't even try to stop him, your gun feeling unnaturally heavy in your hands as you know the patchwork man's magic is at work here. As soon as the Fool disappears into the trees, your gun lightens in your hands, and you heave to stare off into the mineshaft, smiling.


It's time to do what needs to be done. You can't let the deaths of tonight be for nothing.

A chill runs through you, as you realize you need new clothes, and there's only one place you can get them. You lean down, unbutton Wyatt's jacket as you try not to look at the body. Slowly,

The underwear are soiled and the inside two layers of Wyatt's clothes are soaked with blood, but you manage to scavenge the boots, socks, pants and jacket, pulling them on. Once you've bundled yourself up in clothes, you raise your rifle to your shoulder and begin walking, leaving the corpse behind you. You don't have the time to bury it, and being around the corpse is only sending pangs of hunger through your body. You try not to shed a tear, heading off into the woods.

Your senses quickly detect the faint smell of smoke and coal, and you begin heading towards it. The beast within you is quiet for now from the stabbing, but thankfully the beast seems to almost be absorbing the pain, and it's little more than a dull ache to you now.

You walk in silence, and for a moment, it seems almost unnatural. Everything about you seems wrong now. You can tell you're walking loudly, almost falling and stumbling about. Your movements are as stealthy as ever thanks to your abilities as a hunter, but compared to your lupine form, it's clumsy. Your senses are dulled without the powers of the beast, your entire body weakening from exhaustion and blood loss.

Your eyes are still bright, and you find yourself staring through the darkness at a trio of werewolves prowling through the undergrowth. The creatures are streaked with gray and black fur, growling as they slowly move forward, muscles moving under furry hides, their teeth glowing in the moonlight.

They must be following your scent, and if they are, they have it now. The beast within you is quiet now, but the rage in your heart is burning. Time to do your duty as a Hunter.
> You release the wolf within and tear them apart!
You growl, snarling as you draw on the beast deep inside you as you draw your fingernails against your wrists, causing blood to run down your arms in a thin trickle as you howl, staring up towards the moon as its glow shines upon your skin.

However, the silver wound still burns your flesh, and the wolf within is far from your abilities. It's quiet now, sleeping and recovering from the wound, and you're left just shouting to the skies as the beast draws near.

"Fuck... now it's silent. Now, the transformation that's plagued me all night is beyond me," you swear.

It's a somber thought, but as the werewolves near you, now too close for you to be able to gun them down or run, you're grateful that you can die a man. You put up your chin, taking a deep breath, and face death with a grimace.


You slowly begin walking in the direction of the smoke, keeping your mind on the burning pain in your chest. Your bullet holes and bite mark have already scabbed and scarred over, no doubt from the healing abilities the beast within has granted you. Still, the silver burns just as harshly, like flames trapped in your chest. It's a struggle trying to focus on the pain, to let it consume you and drive you into a violent psychosis, but you have no alternative. Whenever you try to ignore the pain, you can feel the monstrous urges return. The unending hunger, the desire to break free, the need to howl up at the sky, the lust for the power of the wild... you keep focused, and the burning pain continues.

As you walk, you notice just how tight your clothes feel on you. No, not tight. Surprisingly, they seem to fit you perfectly, by whatever abilities of the Patchwork Man. They're not tight. They're constrictive. You want to tear them off, to feel the wind on your fur and to tear off into the night. You want to taste flesh and blood, to feel the dirt shift under your paws. You want to answer the call of the moon.

You shake your head roughly, growling as you tighten your grip on the shotgun. The cool metal reminds you of who you are. A Hunter.

It's a long distance of angered, confused walking, but you soon see lights emerge from the darkness. Not the passionate burning of flames, but the synthetic light of bulbs. You take up a crouching position, slowly sneaking up to where the trees give way to a clearing.

A large wooden cabin sits in the center of the clearing, surrounded by bright lights that give light to the cabin. Standing at the edge of the lights, holding a semi-automatic rifle, is a human. The man has a thick beard reaching his chest and long, tangled hair. His arms are covered with tattoos, depicting old Nordic runes and wolf symbols. Interesting. He must be the werewolf-equivalent of a Thrall. You've never heard of such a thing, seeing as werewolves are usually too stupid and bestial to have human servants, but the werewolves you've seen tonight are definitely smart enough to have them.

The Wolf Servant seems to be guarding the cabin, which has light plumes of smoke drifting up from its chimney. He hasn't noticed you, and seems to the only guard in sight. You need to take him out to get inside.
> You open fire from afar
You aim your shotgun carefully, staring down the iron sights at the man. You still your breath, pulling the trigger as the gun bucks

The scattering pellets smash into the guard and knock him from his feet. The man smacks into the ground with a burst of blood, as you rush towards the cabin. The smell of fresh blood drives you forward with a newfound, bestial energy. Your eyes spot a shift in the darkness, as you make out another guard on the opposite side of the cabin to you, a weapon in his hands.

The guard raises his rifle, opening fire at you, as you dive to the ground. You roll behind the cabin, putting the wooden building between you and the guard. You slide up against the corner of the cabin, keeping in tight as the bullets fly past you from the other guard. You try to focus on the burning pain in your chest, so you stay calm and collected rather than letting your bestial rage consume you.
> You charge the second guard quickly
You ready your shotgun, before turning the corner and sprinting forward, your gun leveled. The guard aims his rifle, but you simply fire your shotgun, firing a spray of silver. You knock the man off his feet as he collapses to the ground with a scream.

You fire again, hitting the man in the side and killing him. You turn to the cabin, pumping your shotgun. Now it's time to move inside and secure the cabin.


You aim your shotgun carefully, staring down the iron sights at the man. You still your breath, pulling the trigger as the gun bucks

The scattering pellets smash into the guard and knock him from his feet. The man smacks into the ground with a burst of blood, as you rush towards the cabin. The smell of fresh blood drives you forward with a newfound, bestial energy. Your eyes spot a shift in the darkness, as you make out another guard on the opposite side of the cabin to you, a weapon in his hands.

The guard raises his rifle, opening fire at you, as you dive to the ground. You roll behind the cabin, putting the wooden building between you and the guard. You slide up against the corner of the cabin, keeping in tight as the bullets fly past you from the other guard. You try to focus on the burning pain in your chest, so you stay calm and collected rather than letting your bestial rage consume you.
> You circle the cabin and hit him from the side
Running your tongue along your sharpening teeth, you move swiftly, your nostrils filling with the scent of the man's sweat, blood and stink. Your feet move swiftly from instinct, knowing exactly where to step as you swing around the cabin, spotting the man's flank.

Kill! Kill! KILL!

The voices in your head, get stronger, as you find your grip on your weapon tightening. You raise your shotgun, firing as the blast almost takes off the man's head, sending blood spraying onto the ground as you laugh.

You head turns as you let out a low, rumbling growl, staring at the cabin. Time to break inside and kill!


"You're... you're a Hunter, right? You must be."

"Unfortunately, no. You're out alone in these woods tonight. Well, I best be off. Good luck dealing with my boy tonight, Willy. Best of luck."

"Wait!" you growl, aiming your shotgun at him. "You move and I blow your brains out!"

The Fool sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't think you really know how this game works, do you?" the Fool says.

The Fool leans forward, placing his thumb against the shotgun barrel. He scratches at his puffy, burned eyes, sighing.

"You're not going to shoot that gun," he says simply.

With that, the Fool turns, strolling off into the woods. You try to aim your shotgun, but find your arms are incapable of moving, the numb, cold muscles refusing to work. All you can do is watch as the Fool disappears into the darkness.

When he's out of view, you snarl. You sniff the air, smelling the scent of prey, and... you try to focus on the pain for a moment, ignoring your bestial senses, before you smell something else. The smell of smoke, in the distance.

You pause, raising an eye. Smoke means fire. Fire means activity. There needs to be something in that direction.
> You go examine the coin
You walk over to where the Fool dropped the golden coin, finding it lying, shining in the dirt. You drop to your knees, picking it up and examining it.

The coin depicts an old image of two snakes, circling one another to form an 'S' shape. The snakes are biting each other's tails in a bizarre version of an ouroboros. You flip the coin over, finding yourself staring at the same image.

Huh. You suppose in a strange way, each face of the coin depicts the both "Heads" and "Tails". It seems the strange, patchwork man was fucking with you.

For a moment, you raise an eyebrow, wondering if "A coin" was the answer to that riddle. Either way, too late to ask. You pocket the coin, before standing and staring off towards where the smell of smoke came from.


"Heads!"

The coin flips through the air ahead of you, as you step back, looking at the coin with interest. He steps back, leveling your own shotgun at you as he the coin lands in the dirt. The Fool peers down at it, tilting his head, before flipping the shotgun in his hands, grabbing the barrel and offering the stock to you.

"It's your lucky day, Hunter. Good luck to you."

You grab the shotgun, holding it in your hands and aiming it at the suspicious, patch coat man.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"An interesting question! Do you like riddles?"

"No."

The Fool frowns.

"So dull. You're a dull old fellow, aren't you? Perhaps I should be helping the wolves."

"Just tell me who you are, dammit! I'm a dying man, I don't have time for this."

The Fool opens his mouth to complain, before pausing, then shrugging.

"A slave I have been and shall remain

To a golden mistress I'm tied with invisible chains

Yet always I put on the same brave face

She keeps me her prisoner, but leaves me some space."

The Fool smiles at you for a moment, before raising an eyebrow.

"So... who am I?"
> A Werewolf
"You're a werewolf, aren't you? You're one of those fucked up beasts."

"No, I'm far older than even werewolves, I'm afraid. Well, I best be off. Good luck dealing with my boy tonight, Willy."

"Wait!" you growl, aiming your shotgun at him. "You move and I blow your brains out!"

The Fool sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't think you really know how this game works, do you?" the Fool says.

The Fool leans forward, placing his thumb against the shotgun barrel. He scratches at his puffy, burned eyes, sighing.

"You're not going to shoot that gun," he says simply.

With that, the Fool turns, strolling off into the woods. You try to aim your shotgun, but find your arms are incapable of moving, the numb, cold muscles refusing to work. All you can do is watch as the Fool disappears into the darkness.

When he's out of view, you snarl. You sniff the air, smelling the scent of prey, and... you try to focus on the pain for a moment, ignoring your bestial senses, before you smell something else. The smell of smoke, in the distance.

You pause, raising an eye. Smoke means fire. Fire means activity. There needs to be something in that direction.


You slow your breathing, focusing on the pain in your chest. You raise your head, wiping the puke and blood from your face as you try to ignore the hunger in your belly. You wince, trying to ignore the desires of the beast within, telling you to run, to hunt, to feed, to howl. You shake your head violently, trying to focus, as you take up a kneeling position. The cold wind chills your bones and gives you goosebumps, and

"You look to be in a bad state, friend," a voice says.

You look up, finding yourself staring up at a a young, grinning man with curly black hair and a thick beard. His eyes are red and puffing, and seem to be somewhat burned. His jacket is patch-work, made of many stitched up patches of various colors, with the rest of his outfit being suitably gauche in its coloring to accentuate the man's weird look. He looks down at you, smiling.

"You're either very hungover, or old Fenrir got his claws into you."

"Who are you?" you ask weakly. "I'm getting really shit sick of having people walk up to me."

"Oh, a fool, little else," the man smiles. "You look cold. I have a spare set of clothes, if you want."

Cautious, you nod slowly, as the man pulls of his backpack, opening it. You pause, noticing the stock of your shotgun sticking out of the bag. The Fool tosses you a set of boots, underwear, an undershirt, socks, pants, t-shirt and a coat. Staring at him, you hurry to get dressed, as the Fool hums a song to himself. When you're finished, you look to the bag. The Fool notices what you're looking at, smiling.

"That's my weapon."

"Finders keepers, losers weepers, old Willy, old boy," the man shrugs.

You pause, trying to calculate the chances of you grabbing your weapon before he can.

"I didn't tell you my name," you say softly.

"You didn't tell me my name either, but I know that," the Fool shrugs.

The Fool grabs the shotgun, pulling it out and holding it in his hands, running his hands along the barrel. He pauses, digging through his pockets for a moment, before pulling out a golden coin.

"Tell you what. I'll flip you for it. You call it, you get your gun back. You don't, I'll put you out of your misery and stop you from completely turning. Agreed?"

You consider lunging at the man, but he lowers the barrel of the shotgun, anticipating your move. His grin widens, revealing more and more shiny teeth.

"Agreed", you say.

"Perfect!" the Fool grins. "Call it in the air, Willy."

The man flips the coin, watching it spin in the air.
> You tails
"Tails!"

The coin flips through the air ahead of you, as you step back, looking at the coin with interest. He steps back, leveling your own shotgun at you as he the coin lands in the dirt. The Fool peers down at it, tilting his head, before flipping the shotgun in his hands, grabbing the barrel and offering the stock to you.

"It's your lucky day, Hunter. Good luck to you."

You grab the shotgun, holding it in your hands and aiming it at the suspicious, patch coat man.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"An interesting question! Do you like riddles?"

"No."

The Fool frowns.

"So dull. You're a dull old fellow, aren't you? Perhaps I should be helping the wolves."

"Just tell me who you are, dammit! I'm a dying man, I don't have time for this."

The Fool opens his mouth to complain, before pausing, then shrugging.

"A slave I have been and shall remain

To a golden mistress I'm tied with invisible chains

Yet always I put on the same brave face

She keeps me her prisoner, but leaves me some space."

The Fool smiles at you for a moment, before raising an eyebrow.

"So... who am I?"


You find yourself crawling desperately towards the smashed up car wreck, reaching forward and dragging yourself along the ground. You manage to pull yourself to a kneeling position, before standing cautiously. You take a step forward, trying not to focus on the brutal pain in your shoulder. You slowly move towards the truck before stumbling, leaning against it as you groan in pain. Resting on the cold metal bonnet, you gasp for breath.

"William. You made it," a voice groans from the wreckage.

You pause, grabbing your shotgun, before finding yourself staring at Father Féval's broken but still living body. The man is still buckled into the car wreckage, his face bloody from a cut on his forehead, his side looking like it's been completely chewed up by the werewolves. His expression is as emotionless as always, but there's a trace of weariness in his eyes.

"Father Féval!" you say, exuberant to know you're not alone in these dark woods.

"They ate you up pretty well, William" Father Féval says, his accent thickening as his eyes grow weary. "We've both been bit, it seems. If we survive much longer, we're going to become just like them. The beast is within us, and it will take over soon. We should embrace the end and go into it peacefully."

"No! We need to radio the lodge!"

Father Féval nods down to where the radio sat, and you see it's been smashed up. The radio's been torn out, its plastic case shattered and its internal wiring shredded. Clearly, the werewolves knew what they were looking for, and targeted this specifically.

"I'm sorry, William. That's not really an option anymore. It's time to face our end."

"We can't let them get away with this! This werewolf pack isn't a group of psychopathic killers, they're worse. They're a planning, thinking, growing group. We can't just give up and off ourselves!"

"William, your adrenaline's pumping and your mind is desperate, but we're not escaping here. Either we die here, or the beast within takes over!"

"Fuck that! We have to do something! We have time before we turn! We can get help, contact the others and tell them what happened, and then we can off ourselves! But we can't do it yet!"

Father Féval raises his pistols, pointing them at you.

"We live by a code, William. If you're not going to go peacefully into the night, I am going to take you into it," the Catholic Priest says coldly.
> You let Father Féval kill you
Putting down a Wolf

You raise your hands slowly, nodding.

"I understand. We can't give these fuckers reinforcements. We need to end this quickly. Go ahead and kill me, then. I'm ready."

Father Féval raises his pistols, aiming them at your chest. You smile at him weakly, before nodding.

"Do it."

"You know," Father Féval suggests. "These is a chance for you to confess your sins before you die, and to accept Jesus Christ as your lord and saviour."

"With all due respect, I'm in no mood for your preaching. Let me die in peace."

"So be it. May God have mercy on your soul, William."

"Bleed quickly and die quicker, my friend."

The guns fire, and the silver bullets tear through your chest, and you collapse backwards, blood bursting onto the ground. Darkness shrouds over you, and you can feel the desperate, clawing, howling beast within you get pulled down into the depths of darkness with you.

Now, the eternal rest is all that's left for you.


You have to protect your companions, and get them out of there. You can't leave them behind. You hold your shotgun tightly in your hands, before moving forward and darting down the decline. You slide down on your boots, hurrying down as fast as you can. You almost fall into a tumble, but manage to steady yourself, finding yourself on the ground near the wreckage.

You look to the truck, and you can see a mutilated corpse strapped into the driver's seat, and realize Russel didn't even get out of the car. The screams off deeper into the woods don't give you hope for the fate of the others.

"Stay back! Stay back!" a young, terrified voice screams from behind the wreckage.

Swearing, you burst forward, your gun held tightly in your hands. Rushing around the roasting bonfire, you find Wyatt, collapsed on his back, desperately trying to shuffle backwards.

Standing in front of him is a bestial creature you've faced many times before. A werewolf. The creature stands with black and gray fur matted with the gore of a previous kill. The creature growls, revealing a row of vicious teeth that could easily tear through a man.

Your instincts kick in, and you drop to your knee, raising your gun and opening fire. The gun bucks, silver bursting forward and tearing through the werewolf's flesh. The creature howls, as you fire another shot, blowing the creature's head off as its body crumples. You watch as the lupine body begins to morph, shedding air and twisting as it turns into a naked, bloody human corpse, its head completely missing.

"Oh Jesus, oh Jesus! William, they got my dad. They tore him up, and they took Hans off into the woods! Shit, we have to go help him! We have to go save them!"

You hear a loud howl, looking over to see a trio of werewolves appearing out of the woods. At the front, a large creature with frost white hair and pink eyes. The creature begins prowling towards you, its jaws open as it licks its lips. The creature lets out a growl, as the other two werewolves pause, holding back as the creature approaches you. Clearly this one's a leader of some sort, and it wants to take you down by itself as some fucked up pursuit of honor or to show its pack mates its prowess.

You don't have time to think. It's time to act.
> You break off into the woods with Wyatt
"Run! Run now, Wyatt!" you scream,

You sprint, running as fast as you can, your lungs burning, but it's not enough. Seconds later, a force like a truck smashes into your back, sending you crumpling to the floor with your legs shattering from the impact. You scream as the Albino lands atop your legs, sending pain racing through your body as you spasm. The creature looks down at you, growling.

"Fuck you," you spit, hoping some part of the Albino understands you.

The Albino's head snaps down, tearing out your throat, before binding off after Wyatt. You lie there on the ground, drowning in your own blood, as death slowly takes you.


You open your eyes as blurry vision returns to you. You're surrounded by dirt and darkness, but your eyes slowly begin to make sense of your surroundings. You're lying on the cold dirt, next to the road you were just driving along. You blink, feeling a rush of pain go through your numb body. Your skin is grazed and cut up and your flesh bruised, but you don't seem to be in too bad a condition. Certainly capable of walking and fighting.

You force yourself to one knee, your eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. Your is shotgun lying close by you, and feel a breath of relief. You stand cautiously, checking to make sure nothing's broken one more time, before grabbing your shotgun. After making sure it's still loaded, before surveying the situation.

The trees to the side of the road are broken and crushed indicating where the truck must've gone off the road and down into the ravine below. Your eyes are slow to notice it due to it's black paint, but you see a pair of spike strips lying across the road. You stare at them in amazement for a moment, fingers clenched on your weapon.

This doesn't make sense. Werewolves never take human servants, and they're not tool users when transformed. They wouldn't put the spike strips down... unless they knew you were coming... and prepared beforehand.

FUCK! This shitshow's about to get a lot worse. You're dealing with a worse enemy than a pack of maddened werewolves.

Struggling to the edge of the road, you stare down the steep ravine to where the truck lies. It's heavily crushed and damaged, beyond repair. You can hear screams down there, indicating that there's survivors. You doubt any of them are in any condition to defend yourself. But looking down at your current condition, you stand a chance.
> You fall back and get out of this damned woods
You need to get out of here. There's no use risking your own life to try save your comrades when they're already most likely dead. Your shotgun ready in your hands, you head off down the road. Your body burns and pain shoots through your body, plus the energy sapped in your night's other hunts and surviving the crash means that exhaustion is quickly becoming an issue. You hurry along the road, taking up a steady jog along the road so you don't tire yourself out, but don't spend too long in these wretched woods. You keep your grip tight, as your eyes watch the shadows of the woods around you and struggle to hear the sounds of the surrounding woods over the sound of your tired, slightly panicked breathing.

Several long minutes of jogging, as you try to get out of these woods again. You begin to hear nearby howls, bursting from the nearby forests and nearby undergrowth. Your breath catches in your throat, before you shake your head and continue jogging, speeding up your pace slightly. There's no use panicking.

You hear the howls of the werewolves grow nearer, and you know that they're on your trail. No doubt, they know you'd be following the road back to the Lodge where you came from. You wonder whether it'd be safer to try to lose the pack in the forest around you, or whether you should stay on the road and hope you come across something soon.
> You stay on the road, shotgun at the ready
You continue sprinting down the road, staying on your path and refusing to yield. You run for a long time, hearing the howls of the werewolf pack growing louder and closer. Each time one howls, it seems like they're at the edge of the road or right behind you, but they're not, not just yet. Keeping a steady pace, you ignore the burning of your muscles and the horrible pain of your cuts and bruises, your body wanting nothing more than to collapse. Still, you keep your mind focused, keeping to a steady jog rather than an all out sprint that would leave you exhausted in no time at all. Just keep running and you'll make it out of there. Hopefully.

Suddenly, you hear the howl of a werewolf, and it's so close, so clear, so loud that you know that you need to do something. Glimpses of gray fur and white teeth begin appearing on the edge of the forest. It's time to act.
> You break to a sprint and get out of there
You sprint, running as fast as you can, your lungs burning. Your feet burst along the tarmac, as you refuse to slow down. Your strides are now more akin to leaps as you fly through the air, charging forward. You hear the growls grow closer, the howls almost being roared right in your ears. You can practically feel the flicks of spit and blood landing on your ear from how close the werewolves' maws are when they howl into you, causing you to shiver with fright. Seconds later, a force like a truck smashes into your back, sending you smacking into the tarmac of the road. You bounce along the road, before skidding to a stop as the rough tarmac strips off a layer of skin, blood bursting forth.

The werewolf's not far behind, its claw slashing at your unprotected neck. The claw tears through flesh and slices through your spinal cord with ease, as your head is ripped off from your broken and bleeding body, bouncing along the road as it comes to a stop, a pained, terrified expression now forever frozen on its face.