text: [Themes: horror]
  
  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.
  
  > investigate the murals
  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!"
  
  > ANSWER FENRIR'S CALL! RELEASE THE BEAST!
  The fear, the anger, the hate, the sadness and the pain inside you are consumed by the beast within, as you release your pent up emotions in a roar. Fenrir answers your roar with one of his own, as you collapse to your knees, hair sprouting rapidly to coat your body in a thick coating. Pain courses through you, but unlike before, its a good pain, like the burn of exercising. Your muscles grow and thicken in large coils beyond anything you've grown tonight, skin stretching to cover it. Your teeth sharpen, allowing you to form a malevolent grin that stretches across your face as it twists into a snout. Your ears flicker, listening carefully to the noises of the mineshaft, hearing a chorus of howls further down.
  
  Your lean back on your hind legs, your arms broken and reformed into forelegs topped with beautifully sharp claws that stretch from your fingernails, blood pouring forth from your hand, running down your fur-covered fingers as you laugh, your lupine vocal cords morphing the noise into a deep, guttural noise. Losing all traces of humanity, all you feel is a bloodlust beyond that of any man's mind, with a hunger filling you. You lick your lips greedily, ready to strike.
  
  You stand, tall and strong, much larger than you ever have, snarling and running your tongue along your sharpened teeth, like dozens of ivory daggers. You feel strength course through your blood, feeling the true power of Fenrir. No longer are you bound by your weak, wretched human form. Now you have the body of a true predator, gifted to you by the God of Beasts. You are a hunter. Those werewolves that are foolish enough to remain in this mine shaft are you prey.
  
  "Good... good, little one," the voice of Fenrir whispers. "Now... hunt."
  
  Time to answer his call.
  
  > carve your way to the Alpha
  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.
  
  > rend the creatures face open with your claws
  You slash your claws forward, tearing through the Alpha's face and carving through its snout, but the full weight of hundreds of pounds are still barreling on top of you, as they slam into you, knocking you to the ground with a thud. The weight smashes you against the ground with a pained yell, as you're pinned to the ground.
  
  The Alpha howls, blood spraying down from its face, but its still got the instinct to keep you pinned down. The creature keeps you forced against the ground, pressing its claws against you as you only barely manage to force it back. It's snapping maw nears your face, as you attempt to keep the creature off you. You find yourself stuck and unable to react.
  
  > throw the beast off you
  You roll your legs under the Alpha's weight, forcing your legs forwards under the creature's weight as you ram your claws against its chest, trying to push it off. You push with all your might, and the Alpha begins to budge, before taking its chance to strike.
  
  With your four legs pressed up against the creature's body in your attempt to throw it off, its claws are free, and burst forward, slashing at you. Two pairs of claws hack across your face, cutting through your snout and tearing it off, before cutting through your skull as you howl in pain. The claws tear through your face, leaving you broken and bleeding, before your head drops to the ground, blood staining your fur.