C3 Married To A Hunter, Falling In Love With A Wolf (Part 3)

"You filthy animal! I can smell you from a mile off!” he bawled. He cocked the gun in his hand roughly and the sound rolled around the room. “I’m gonna fix you motherfuckers!”

At first, Boris stood there like a stone, regarding the stranger bewilderedly. Then a look of recognition appeared on his face. His eyes widen in alarm, fright and savage hatred.

“Maverick!” he growled, his voice shaking the room. “Kraven! Trouble is here! Fucking here!” and he shoved Nessa away from him.

Still distracted by the presence of the man at the door, Nessa thudded to the floor caught off guard. She yelled as she landed on her back. Wincing with pain, she raised herself up, still perplexed by the whole commotion around her. Just then, she began to hear a low, thick growling beside her, the kind of sound an angry, wild dog makes when it wanted to attack you. Startled, she raised her head. What she saw made cold fear clutched at her heart. It was Boris who was making the sound all right. But he wasn’t only making the sound.

Something else was also happening; something terrifying and violently bizarre.

Boris was opening his mouth menacingly, revealing his teeth; It was actually fangs! Dirty, long, razor-like fangs. His clothes was ripping furiously off – she could hear it tore savagely – from his body. His face was expanding and contracting.......filling out.......thick long hair were beginning to spring out from his face, neck and body. His ears flattened back. His tongue lolled. Long, claw-like nails began to shoot out from his hands. His body was getting bigger and bigger, just the way a balloon fills out when you blow air into it.

The whole transformation was happening fast; too damn fast!

Nessa sat there like an hypnotized ferret.

She could not move. She wanted to scream but her throat were paralysed. Her body was loaded with stark terror. She began to tremble violently as she watched the monstrosity that was unfolding right In front of her own eyes. Nothing in this world could have prepared her from what she was seeing. One moment she was staring at a human and the next, she was looking at the biggest wolf she had ever seen.

She shrieked; a high piercing sound; her voice sounded like someone who had lost a leg. It was her scream that jolted the men who were also looking transfixed at the unthinkable transformation, out of their stupendous, bewilderment.

They all joined her in screaming.

They scampered off their seats as if hot pepper had suddenly been crammed up their asses, yelling, scrambling, and running around the room like frightened rats; some ran towards the entrance, others scrambled frantically for places to hide. They ran, fell, picked themselves up, ran and fell again.

It was a bedlam: the whole room had turned to a complete mad house.

Boris, now turned full wolf, leaped onto the countertop, raised his furry face to the ceilings, spread out his arms, his claw-like fist clenched and a cold cloud of breath wisped out of his mouth as he let out a terrifying, bellowing growl that rolled around the room and shook the hinges of the windows and doors. Then he looked down at the man, his massive chest rising and falling heavily. He let out another angry, defiant growl and charged off the countertop with a powerful, striking momentum.

The man with the big, sliver gun, whose name Maverick, saw the werewolf charging at him at a great, violent speed. He stood there like a sculpture, the expression on his face, unperturbed. Then he raised the gun, nestling it comfortably into the hollow of his shoulders, his head, half-cocked along the barrel . Just as the werewolf was about to get him, he swore under his breath, his finger closed around the trigger then he fired at the charging wolf.

The gun went off! The noise travelled away like a bowling balls, stiffening the ears of the men as it banged around the room.

The charging Boris saw the gun went off and leaped reflexively onto the opposite wall. The bullet hit the window. The window blows inward in a shimmering of broken glasses, letting In the January, howling, gust wind.

Maverick had missed!

Boris released another great yell, bared his dirty, menacing fangs and pounced off the wall, his deadly fingers outstretched. Maverick began to fire rapidly, an expression of murder on his face. Boris swerved and began to leap from walls to walls, dodging bullets and leaving a plaster of walls riddled with bullets behind him. The bullets hit another window again. Glasses shattered in flying deadly arrows, each of them revealing Maverick’s face, Boris and the rest of the frightened, running men.

Maverick ran out of bullets. He cursed loudly, threw the gun to a corner of the room and brought out his cross bow.

Boris saw this. This was the best chance for him to strike. He came rushing at Maverick, a glint of murder in his yellow, blazing eyes.

Maverick, with hands clammy with sweats, reached for his crossbow, fixed it and was just in time to see the beast coming at him with violent alacrity.

Boris got to him first. He raised his deadly paws and slashed. Reflexively, Maverick dived to a corner of the room. He had missed the beast crushing blow by just a sheer chance.

Boris let out an angry, pained yell. He was actually angry that he had missed Maverick twice. A third must never happen. So he came charging again; his eyes fearsome and mad.

However, Maverick was prepared. He rolled to a corner of the room, lifted himself up, aimed at Boris and fired. One of the arrows hit the beast on its shoulders. He yelled. Another hits him on the chest, slashing through the massive chest and protruding out of his back. Boris let out an ear piercing guttural cry and dropped to the floor as if pole-axed. He lay on the floor, spread eagled, like a man nailed to the cross. He was shrieking. His lips pulled off his teeth, his hands pressing into his wounded chest.

Maverick, his face cold, hard and expressionless, began to walk towards the wounded werewolf, in an unhurried, death-like strides. The wounded Boris saw him coming. He knew that the hunter was going to finish him for good. There was no doubt about that. Well, he had made a mistake coming to this part of town anyways. Had there leader not been warned?. Their leader had thrust them into the hands of death.......No! It was only him that had fallen into the pit of death. Kraven was not there with him. And in that second of life that was left to him, the thought of his brother came to him. Where was Kraven?, He thought wildly. How could his brother have left him alone to fight this crazy killer? Painfully, he watched as Maverick walked towards him, lying there in semi-stupor, the blood seeping out sluggishly from the arrow wound in his chest and arms.

Maverick got to Boris and smirked. He watched as Boris slowly began to change; the roughened, thick furs on his face and body, seems to be pulling in, the huge paws, with its evil looking claws on his hands and feet, were unbelievably transforming to fingernails. The lips, pulled off his teeth in a snarl of rage, relaxed gently back to its normal shape. While watching all these, he patiently brought out a pack of cigarettes from his pockets, lit it, drew in smoke downstairs and blew it through the corners of his mouth. He glanced at Boris now. He was back to his human state. He lay sprawled out on the ground, naked, moaning and shuddering. Blood continued to pour from his chest.