“You are accused of being Adumbrae sympathizers! Of being enemies of the good and honest people of our beautiful city! Of being traitors to humanity!” Megaphone Man’s amplified voice could barely fight the racket of the crowd jeering and hurling insults at the SVS group.
The SVS tried to defend themselves, arguing back, but the crowd just shouted them down. I couldn’t make out what they were saying because yelling fuckshits surrounded me. Such a waste of time to argue anyway when everyone here was out for their blood.
“And now, we can add summoning an Adumbrae to the list of your crimes!” declared Megaphone Man.
“Just kill them already!” yelled the guy to my right, waving his phone in the air like he was in a concert.
Sir, please. Move your sweaty armpits away. If those touched me, I was going to rip his arms off and jam them down his throat. This guy was wearing a tank top with dropped armholes like douchebags at the gym. How was he not feeling cold?
“They’re all guilty!”
“No need for this trial!”
There are a lot more people here than I expected. I was hemmed in once again by the pack; I had no choice but to wade through the crowd if I wanted to see what was going on. I thought they were supposed to be at the memorial for the victims of the Adumbrae attacks? Weren’t they supposed to protest against the mayor?
Everyone was so engrossed with their little modern-day witch hunt that they didn’t notice me standing in their midst, suspiciously not joining in their festivities. And I already appeared super sketchy even though I did my best to disguise myself.
Before I transformed, I took off my hoodie so it wouldn’t get teleported to whatever dimension my original body poofed off to. Then I put it back on after becoming Blanchette to hide my distinct red clothes and trademarked animal ears on top of my hood. It was uncomfortably tight, especially around my chest, not only because I was wearing it on top of another hoodie, but because it was also a couple of sizes too small.
This is all Deen’s fault. I wanted to buy an oversized one when we shopped to make me appear nerdier and smaller, hence contributing to my timid persona. Plus, I could also use it as Blanchette, which was why I chose a generic design so it’d be inconspicuous and hard to trace if someone saw me.
Unfortunately, because I picked, in Deen’s own words, a horrendously bland hoodie, she insisted I should, at the very least, buy the correct size.
So, here I was in a very fitting hoodie. Guys could pull off this look—Everett occasionally wore tight hoodies to show off his muscles to Deen—but it just looked unfashionable for girls, especially on me as Blanchette who was a bit on the top-heavy side.
And to hide my very noticeable snout, I tore several strips off a rugged tarp covering the back of a truck, fashioning it into some sort of scarf. My makeshift scarf reeked of grease and gasoline. I dearly wished for the smell of gasoline to be stronger to mask the odor of the sweaty cellphone-waving PCM guy beside me.
“To have a fair trial since we are civilized people,” blared Megaphone Man, “we need to prove the accusations before meting out penalties. For that, we call our first witness!” The crowd cheered as he beckoned for someone to come forward. “A witness of the evil deeds of the SVS.”
A couple of PCM members helped a limping man walk to the center of the circle. The people shone the lights of their cellphones on him like a spotlight. He wore a uniform of some kind with a logo, the same design I saw on the toppled gate of the compound. An employee working in these warehouses was my guess.
“Silence! Silence! Let us hear him speak,” said Megaphone Man. “Good sir, did you witness these people perform a ritual inside the warehouse?”
The warehouse worker was in a daze and pain, probably thinking everything around him was just a fevered dream. He hesitated before speaking on the megaphone. “Ri-ritual? Ugh…I don’t…I don’t know.”
“Did these people tie you up?”
“Ye-yes…me and three others…”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Yes…they hit me on the leg.”
“What other crimes did they commit?”
“Uh…they also hit Morris…he’s the guard…on the head…”
“Oh my, these accursed people are out of control. Anything else to add, my good sir?”
“Morris, he’s unconscious. I think he needs an ambulance… My leg is busted…you told me you’ll bring us to the hospital if—”
“And there you have it, people!” Megaphone Man interjected, waving the warehouse worker away. “The SVS bound four people and beat them as part of their ritual to summon an Adumbrae inside that warehouse. They are the reason why there are many Adumbrae in our city—”
“We were not doing anything like that!” Reginus shouted. She tried her best to stand up with bound feet. “That’s a lie—!”
“—the blood of the many, many innocents who died are on their hands. They are pure evil, and evil must be purged from our city to return to—”
“You got it all wrong! Stop making this all up!”
“Silence!” Megaphone Man strode over to Reginus and slapped her face. She fell on top of other SVS members. The crowd roared its approval. Reginus continued to argue so Megaphone Man kicked her. “Silence! Order in the court! Order!” He stooped down to hit her with his megaphone, quite a move befitting his moniker I made up.
One of the SVS guys put himself in front of her to shield her from the blows.
Huh? Is that…?
I thought the heroic dude who came to Reginus’ aid was a member of her little club, but it turned out he wasn’t. It was Ramello!
Oh yeah, the PCM had him on their mini wanted list. I should’ve expected this, but I was surprised he was here. What the hell was his connection to all of this? Did he join them?
I racked my brains but couldn’t come up with an explanation. I knew he wasn’t one to sit back while his attackers roamed free, and he did tell me he was going after them. In his investigations, he must’ve somehow stumbled across the SVS. But how that came about to be, I had no idea.
Ramello was also talking back to Megaphone Man, but I couldn’t pick out what he said. When transformed, hearing was included in my enhanced senses. Although I could now hear a lot of stuff I couldn't before, I didn’t have much practice filtering out all the noise and focusing on specific ones. My head just hurt from all the yelling, every sound just sort of rolling into one drone.
“We don’t care about the words of Adumbrae sympathizers!” Megaphone Man replied. “You don’t have a right to defend yourselves!”
I could guess what Ramello said. Typical law student trying to invoke his rights that’d just lead to escalating a situation rather than defusing it. It earned him a megaphone smash to the face.
Awesome, now I have the justification to intervene.
More alleged witnesses were brought in to ‘testify’—a couple of female employees. With a bit of time before the PCM ended this sham court and definitely execute the SVS people, I observed the crowd I would be going up against.
Some of them were dressed even weirder than me, with all sorts of masks and costumes. They were mostly armed with baseball bats, hockey sticks, crowbars, chains, just random weapons. I knew several of them had guns, but there was no fun in just shooting to kill someone. If their goal was to make a spectacle and raise the morale of their group by hunting their ‘enemy’, then no better way than to beat someone to death.
I couldn’t let them do that to Ramello.
If it was just the SVS, I wasn’t sure I’d save them in this situation. Yeah, they were making my Blanchette face look good to the public, so I figured I could help them if it was just a few guys bothering them. Maybe like beat up some PCM people so they could run away.
But this? I’d needed to rip through like fifty people for their sake. If these were all goons of the 2Ms, I’d have no issue, but these were just normal…kinda…people.
It wasn’t a conscience thing—I didn’t even know how that shit worked. It was doing too much that might break Rule #4. Unbalancing the world and the like.
Killing tons of 2M grunts was fine because we were enemies. These people, however, were just going about their business doing normal people stuff with barely any connection to me. Sure, they’d be breaking the law by lynching SVS members, but that was a natural progression of their irrational fear of the Adumbrae.
Just desperate people doing desperate things.
Like how the camera crew of the Animal Channel I loved dearly as a child didn’t intervene when a cute baby seal was eaten by a polar bear, I also wouldn’t bother the world more than I needed to—the upper limit of Rule #4. In fact, the Animal Channel was as much of an influence in establishing Rule #4 as the wise words of my father.
Invoking self-defense on behalf of Reginus and her gang was on shaky ground; I wasn’t sure I could justify it with the Rules. Saving Ramello on the other hand? Very justified. He’s my friend after all.
Straining my ears, I heard Ramello invoking their constitutional right to counsel. Why was he trying to talk legalities with this bunch of insane mooks? This wasn’t going to end well.
“Lawyer?” Megaphone Man said. “You’re saying you want a lawyer for due process? What do the people say?”
The crowd booed him.
Megaphone Man shook his head. “People, people, we are a court of law, of fairness. We should give them a chance. And no, you’re not going to defend yourself. I don’t care if you’re a law student, kid. We will get you professional help since you wanted fairness. Come here, Marty.”
A man wearing a murderer clown mask, probably bought from a dollar general store with a discount on Halloween items since it was already February, hesitantly stepped forward, confused why he was called. The mob roared in laughter.
“Marty, the court appoints you as the lawyer for the accused. Any words before the court deliberate on the evidence presented?”
Okay, I must admit this is pretty funny.
They were going to make their judgment soon. If only the wheels of justice moved this fast in actuality, but this was more like wheels of injustice. Time to make my move. How should—?
“This is the funniest shit I’ve seen!” Armpit Guy eagerly videoed Marty the Clown mumbling nonsense for the crowd’s amusement. He wasn’t that tall so he needed to hold his camera high, bobbing up and down to get a good view. One shove from the people on his other side and he ended up colliding with me.
Okay, we have a volunteer! I snarled as I grabbed his arm, savoring the satisfying crunch of his brittle bones. He screamed in surprise and pain. I violently swung Armpit Guy around like a crocodile trying to tear its prey apart. People around us fell like bowling pins. I dug my claws into his chest, hooking his ribs. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he continued screaming. With a firm grip on his torso, I tore his arm away.
“AAARGrghkk…Helppp!”
Too noisy.
I buried his arm down his mouth to shut him up.
Oops, I didn’t mean to do that. Story of my life so far tonight.
It would've been better if he continued screaming to spread panic. I planned to rapidly strike fear into the hearts of these people so they’d run away rather than fight me. I was positive I had no problems dealing with them, but an unlucky bullet from several guns shooting at the same time might stop me. And I also didn’t want Ramello and the SVS to get injured in a crossfire.
I hurled the lifeless body of Armpit Guy at Megaphone Man. He yelped in surprise and fell, struggling to disentangle himself from the mangled corpse. Marty the Clown exclaimed curses into the megaphone before dropping it in shock. Piercing feedback reverberated. That got the attention of the mob.
The people around me were frozen in place, stunned by being bathed in the blood of their friend. I removed my scarf and bared my fangs at them, snapping my jaws, growling to scare them. They screamed and scrambled to get away. Nice. Now then, I’d have less work—
“Adumbrae! ADUMBRAE!” Megaphone Man frantically shouted, having found his trusty megaphone. “The SVS really summoned an Adumbrae! Attack! Kill that Adumbrae!”
The fleeing people stopped and then turned back to me.
You can’t be serious. Were these fuckers really going to—?
A man suddenly tackled me. I was surprised but didn’t budge. I opened my mouth wide and bit his head that was buried between my boobs. Sir, no indecent behavior please, I thought as I closed my jaws. His head easily burst, blood and bits of brain splattering me and the rest of the crowd coming for me.
The fuck was this? I just killed one of you!
They threw themselves at me with no hesitation. Stabbing me with knives, clobbering me with bats, a giant wave of squishy humans trying to bury me with their weight.
“GRoarww!” A sweep of my claws and heads parted from their bodies. Another slash ripped open the chests of three people, their guts flying in the air. My punch smashed right through a man’s skull. I drove my foot into one guy’s stomach to kick him away, but I put too much strength that my foot just went through him. I flailed my leg in frustration, trying to fling the body away.
“KILL! Kill the Adumbrae the SVS summoned! Don’t be afraid! The Mother Core is with us!”
"Kill! Kill! Kill!" chanted the mob.
They threw chains at me. I yanked them and whirled the chains around, smashing all the bodies it came into contact with. But they were relentless. Some managed to duck under the lashing chains and charged at me, others latched on the chains weighing it down, making me lose its momentum. I was dumbfounded by their insanity. Many were closing in on me again. I abandoned the chains and returned to my good old claws.
“GRrreaaow!”
“Kill! Kill!”
“Don’t fear death! All Adumbrae must die no matter the cost!”
So soft, everyone was so soft. One diagonal slash and my claws went through the bodies of four people. Two heads, a torso, and legs. No fighting style, no thought, just madly swiping everyone who came near. I was like a kid doing the helicopter punch strategy during recess fights.
What the hell is this? Confusion swirled in my head as I ripped through dozens of people, snuffing out their lives with barely any effort, as anti-climactic as it got. They couldn’t injure me enough to trigger my feral craving; werewolf Blanchette stayed silent inside me.
All this carnage and I didn’t feel any bloodlust at all. Boredom, yes. Astonishment at the craziness happening; I was in the middle of it but still couldn’t believe it. Also annoyance at the blood soaking into my clothes. I have to throw away this hoodie, sorry Deen.
“—shoot her!”
“—we might hit—”
“—fire! Fire! I don’t care about the others!”
From the chaotic cacophony, my ears pricked at the mention of shooting. I grabbed the people nearest me, a girl with a painted face and a guy wearing a bandana across his mouth. Pops of gunfire. I held the bodies up as shields, not knowing where the shooting was coming from. Many people dropped. I felt hot pain in my left leg.
Anger bubbled up from deep within me, a surprising emotion from the eerie lull.
Where’s the prey that hit me?
I charged like a raging bull at the people with guns, holding up corpses as shields and battering rams. I slammed into them, crushing them with their fellow PCM members. I shoved my claws into the pile of bodies, looking for the fuckers who attacked me.
I needed to consume their flesh…eat them to heal myself.
Eat them because they hurt me!
STOP! Don’t eat people, you stupid bitch.
Sane Erind fought back. If I ate them, I might spiral out of control. Turning into a giant werewolf in the middle of the city was the last thing I wanted to do. And I had a mission here. I concentrated on my hearing while sending bodies flying.
“—SVS are escaping—!”
“—catch them—”
“—shoot them! They summoned an Adumbrae!”
I cut through the crowd, looking for Ramello and the SVS, ignoring the weak humans trying to bludgeon me. They were no threat. Just a minor annoyance.
The SVS was fighting their own battle. Ramello somehow managed to free himself and was untying the others while fending off the mob. I chucked body parts at people with guns to help out—hey, I’m getting good at this throwing thing.
“Run!” Ramello said while he fought with a PCM member for his hockey stick. He managed to win and waved the stick around to drive back the others. “Run! I’ll hold them!”
Oh, come on. Don’t do that heroic shit. I was supposed to save him, and now he was staying behind.
I clambered over a couple of people, stepped on their heads, and jumped over the crowd towards Ramello. His eyes widened as I landed in front of him. I must’ve presented a grisly sight having bathed buckets of blood and innards.
“You! I remember you,” he said, raising his hockey stick. “Sta-stay awa—”
I wrested the hockey stick from him, then pointed it at the fleeing SVS people paired with a jerk of my head. That should be a clear sign to move along. He nodded and followed Reginus. A glint at the corner of my eye. A loud bang. I leaped to cover his back, getting hit with a strong blow around my mid-section. Ignoring the pain, I threw the hockey stick, butt-end first, at the guy with a shotgun, skewering him.
Calm down, Erind. Insatiable hunger welled up inside me. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth. My stomach was messed up, a bunch of holes all over my abs, but the pain was barely on my mind compared to the anticipation of food.
The shotgun guy wasn’t dead yet, just twitching on the ground with a hockey stick through his stomach. I could go over there and have a bite...
No!
Fight back the urge! Just focus on defending the SVS while they fled.
A mechanical whir to my right. A towering man, the biggest of the bunch I’d seen so far, brought down a rotating saw blade machine upon me. This could be the same one that cut through the warehouse locks. I easily caught it, letting the blade bury an inch deep in my palm out of curiosity, before clamping it with my claws.
So, this is how it feels like, I thought with a satisfied snarl. I then pulled it towards me.
Thinking he could fight me with his laughable human strength, he didn't let go and got dragged down. I grabbed his head and ended his life with a little squeeze. My claws pierce through his skull and into his brains. Blood burst out of all the orifices on his head.
Don't eat him. I just got myself a new meatshield against guns, not food. The sensation of hunger eased a bit as shotgun man died, probably trampled by the incoming crowd of people. Was that how it worked?
I held up my meatshield and readied myself for the next wave.
Is this some fucking joke?
I already killed so many of them. And they knew they couldn’t do anything to me. I was getting more and more weirded out by the second. I always became uncomfortable when humans weren’t behaving as expected, and that was a severe understatement in this situation. I knew people could radically change their behavior when joining like cults or something, but this was too extreme.
Everything felt surreal.
Was I was getting pranked on TV? Maybe some gag show was setting me up to think I was in the middle of a zombie infection outbreak. These fuckers were like zombies. But instead of running away, I was killing loads of people, so jokes on them, imaginary gag show.
Could this be the work of an Adumbrae—?
“Stop! Everyone stop!”
I gazed up to my left. On top of a cargo freight container was Megaphone Man. How did he get up there so quickly?
“STOP! Stop attacking!” he commanded on his megaphone. My eyes widened when the remainder of the mob halted in their tracks in unison like they were being controlled.
If that wasn’t weird enough, beside the kneeling Megaphone Man stood a little boy who was holding him by the collar, forcing him down. The boy carried a humungous axe over his shoulder, its double-bladed head wider than his shoulders, its shaft a couple of feet longer than his body. The axe glowed a sickly green, fitting for the Halloween theme of the night. One look and I could tell there was something seriously wrong with it.
Isn’t that one of the kids I saw earlier? I was right, there was some sketchy shit was going on with the PCM!
And it seemed I had a new enemy. Not sure if this little fuck was even human.
The kid struggled a bit to raise the axe over his head but surprisingly managed to do so even if his tiny hands couldn’t fully grasp the handle.
This really looks like a gag show.
Then he threw the axe at me.
“You are accused of being Adumbrae sympathizers! Of being enemies of the good and honest people of our beautiful city! Of being traitors to humanity!” Megaphone Man’s amplified voice could barely fight the racket of the crowd jeering and hurling insults at the SVS group.
The SVS tried to defend themselves, arguing back, but the crowd just shouted them down. I couldn’t make out what they were saying because yelling fuckshits surrounded me. Such a waste of time to argue anyway when everyone here was out for their blood.
“And now, we can add summoning an Adumbrae to the list of your crimes!” declared Megaphone Man.
“Just kill them already!” yelled the guy to my right, waving his phone in the air like he was in a concert.
Sir, please. Move your sweaty armpits away. If those touched me, I was going to rip his arms off and jam them down his throat. This guy was wearing a tank top with dropped armholes like douchebags at the gym. How was he not feeling cold?
“They’re all guilty!”
“No need for this trial!”
There are a lot more people here than I expected. I was hemmed in once again by the pack; I had no choice but to wade through the crowd if I wanted to see what was going on. I thought they were supposed to be at the memorial for the victims of the Adumbrae attacks? Weren’t they supposed to protest against the mayor?
Everyone was so engrossed with their little modern-day witch hunt that they didn’t notice me standing in their midst, suspiciously not joining in their festivities. And I already appeared super sketchy even though I did my best to disguise myself.
Before I transformed, I took off my hoodie so it wouldn’t get teleported to whatever dimension my original body poofed off to. Then I put it back on after becoming Blanchette to hide my distinct red clothes and trademarked animal ears on top of my hood. It was uncomfortably tight, especially around my chest, not only because I was wearing it on top of another hoodie, but because it was also a couple of sizes too small.
This is all Deen’s fault. I wanted to buy an oversized one when we shopped to make me appear nerdier and smaller, hence contributing to my timid persona. Plus, I could also use it as Blanchette, which was why I chose a generic design so it’d be inconspicuous and hard to trace if someone saw me.
Unfortunately, because I picked, in Deen’s own words, a horrendously bland hoodie, she insisted I should, at the very least, buy the correct size.
So, here I was in a very fitting hoodie. Guys could pull off this look—Everett occasionally wore tight hoodies to show off his muscles to Deen—but it just looked unfashionable for girls, especially on me as Blanchette who was a bit on the top-heavy side.
And to hide my very noticeable snout, I tore several strips off a rugged tarp covering the back of a truck, fashioning it into some sort of scarf. My makeshift scarf reeked of grease and gasoline. I dearly wished for the smell of gasoline to be stronger to mask the odor of the sweaty cellphone-waving PCM guy beside me.
“To have a fair trial since we are civilized people,” blared Megaphone Man, “we need to prove the accusations before meting out penalties. For that, we call our first witness!” The crowd cheered as he beckoned for someone to come forward. “A witness of the evil deeds of the SVS.”
A couple of PCM members helped a limping man walk to the center of the circle. The people shone the lights of their cellphones on him like a spotlight. He wore a uniform of some kind with a logo, the same design I saw on the toppled gate of the compound. An employee working in these warehouses was my guess.
“Silence! Silence! Let us hear him speak,” said Megaphone Man. “Good sir, did you witness these people perform a ritual inside the warehouse?”
The warehouse worker was in a daze and pain, probably thinking everything around him was just a fevered dream. He hesitated before speaking on the megaphone. “Ri-ritual? Ugh…I don’t…I don’t know.”
“Did these people tie you up?”
“Ye-yes…me and three others…”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Yes…they hit me on the leg.”
“What other crimes did they commit?”
“Uh…they also hit Morris…he’s the guard…on the head…”
“Oh my, these accursed people are out of control. Anything else to add, my good sir?”
“Morris, he’s unconscious. I think he needs an ambulance… My leg is busted…you told me you’ll bring us to the hospital if—”
“And there you have it, people!” Megaphone Man interjected, waving the warehouse worker away. “The SVS bound four people and beat them as part of their ritual to summon an Adumbrae inside that warehouse. They are the reason why there are many Adumbrae in our city—”
“We were not doing anything like that!” Reginus shouted. She tried her best to stand up with bound feet. “That’s a lie—!”
“—the blood of the many, many innocents who died are on their hands. They are pure evil, and evil must be purged from our city to return to—”
“You got it all wrong! Stop making this all up!”
“Silence!” Megaphone Man strode over to Reginus and slapped her face. She fell on top of other SVS members. The crowd roared its approval. Reginus continued to argue so Megaphone Man kicked her. “Silence! Order in the court! Order!” He stooped down to hit her with his megaphone, quite a move befitting his moniker I made up.
One of the SVS guys put himself in front of her to shield her from the blows.
Huh? Is that…?
I thought the heroic dude who came to Reginus’ aid was a member of her little club, but it turned out he wasn’t. It was Ramello!
Oh yeah, the PCM had him on their mini wanted list. I should’ve expected this, but I was surprised he was here. What the hell was his connection to all of this? Did he join them?
I racked my brains but couldn’t come up with an explanation. I knew he wasn’t one to sit back while his attackers roamed free, and he did tell me he was going after them. In his investigations, he must’ve somehow stumbled across the SVS. But how that came about to be, I had no idea.
Ramello was also talking back to Megaphone Man, but I couldn’t pick out what he said. When transformed, hearing was included in my enhanced senses. Although I could now hear a lot of stuff I couldn't before, I didn’t have much practice filtering out all the noise and focusing on specific ones. My head just hurt from all the yelling, every sound just sort of rolling into one drone.
“We don’t care about the words of Adumbrae sympathizers!” Megaphone Man replied. “You don’t have a right to defend yourselves!”
I could guess what Ramello said. Typical law student trying to invoke his rights that’d just lead to escalating a situation rather than defusing it. It earned him a megaphone smash to the face.
Awesome, now I have the justification to intervene.
More alleged witnesses were brought in to ‘testify’—a couple of female employees. With a bit of time before the PCM ended this sham court and definitely execute the SVS people, I observed the crowd I would be going up against.
Some of them were dressed even weirder than me, with all sorts of masks and costumes. They were mostly armed with baseball bats, hockey sticks, crowbars, chains, just random weapons. I knew several of them had guns, but there was no fun in just shooting to kill someone. If their goal was to make a spectacle and raise the morale of their group by hunting their ‘enemy’, then no better way than to beat someone to death.
I couldn’t let them do that to Ramello.
If it was just the SVS, I wasn’t sure I’d save them in this situation. Yeah, they were making my Blanchette face look good to the public, so I figured I could help them if it was just a few guys bothering them. Maybe like beat up some PCM people so they could run away.
But this? I’d needed to rip through like fifty people for their sake. If these were all goons of the 2Ms, I’d have no issue, but these were just normal…kinda…people.
It wasn’t a conscience thing—I didn’t even know how that shit worked. It was doing too much that might break Rule #4. Unbalancing the world and the like.
Killing tons of 2M grunts was fine because we were enemies. These people, however, were just going about their business doing normal people stuff with barely any connection to me. Sure, they’d be breaking the law by lynching SVS members, but that was a natural progression of their irrational fear of the Adumbrae.
Just desperate people doing desperate things.
Like how the camera crew of the Animal Channel I loved dearly as a child didn’t intervene when a cute baby seal was eaten by a polar bear, I also wouldn’t bother the world more than I needed to—the upper limit of Rule #4. In fact, the Animal Channel was as much of an influence in establishing Rule #4 as the wise words of my father.
Invoking self-defense on behalf of Reginus and her gang was on shaky ground; I wasn’t sure I could justify it with the Rules. Saving Ramello on the other hand? Very justified. He’s my friend after all.
Straining my ears, I heard Ramello invoking their constitutional right to counsel. Why was he trying to talk legalities with this bunch of insane mooks? This wasn’t going to end well.
“Lawyer?” Megaphone Man said. “You’re saying you want a lawyer for due process? What do the people say?”
The crowd booed him.
Megaphone Man shook his head. “People, people, we are a court of law, of fairness. We should give them a chance. And no, you’re not going to defend yourself. I don’t care if you’re a law student, kid. We will get you professional help since you wanted fairness. Come here, Marty.”
A man wearing a murderer clown mask, probably bought from a dollar general store with a discount on Halloween items since it was already February, hesitantly stepped forward, confused why he was called. The mob roared in laughter.
“Marty, the court appoints you as the lawyer for the accused. Any words before the court deliberate on the evidence presented?”
Okay, I must admit this is pretty funny.
They were going to make their judgment soon. If only the wheels of justice moved this fast in actuality, but this was more like wheels of injustice. Time to make my move. How should—?
“This is the funniest shit I’ve seen!” Armpit Guy eagerly videoed Marty the Clown mumbling nonsense for the crowd’s amusement. He wasn’t that tall so he needed to hold his camera high, bobbing up and down to get a good view. One shove from the people on his other side and he ended up colliding with me.
Okay, we have a volunteer! I snarled as I grabbed his arm, savoring the satisfying crunch of his brittle bones. He screamed in surprise and pain. I violently swung Armpit Guy around like a crocodile trying to tear its prey apart. People around us fell like bowling pins. I dug my claws into his chest, hooking his ribs. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he continued screaming. With a firm grip on his torso, I tore his arm away.
“AAARGrghkk…Helppp!”
Too noisy.
I buried his arm down his mouth to shut him up.
Oops, I didn’t mean to do that. Story of my life so far tonight.
It would've been better if he continued screaming to spread panic. I planned to rapidly strike fear into the hearts of these people so they’d run away rather than fight me. I was positive I had no problems dealing with them, but an unlucky bullet from several guns shooting at the same time might stop me. And I also didn’t want Ramello and the SVS to get injured in a crossfire.
I hurled the lifeless body of Armpit Guy at Megaphone Man. He yelped in surprise and fell, struggling to disentangle himself from the mangled corpse. Marty the Clown exclaimed curses into the megaphone before dropping it in shock. Piercing feedback reverberated. That got the attention of the mob.
The people around me were frozen in place, stunned by being bathed in the blood of their friend. I removed my scarf and bared my fangs at them, snapping my jaws, growling to scare them. They screamed and scrambled to get away. Nice. Now then, I’d have less work—
“Adumbrae! ADUMBRAE!” Megaphone Man frantically shouted, having found his trusty megaphone. “The SVS really summoned an Adumbrae! Attack! Kill that Adumbrae!”
The fleeing people stopped and then turned back to me.
You can’t be serious. Were these fuckers really going to—?
A man suddenly tackled me. I was surprised but didn’t budge. I opened my mouth wide and bit his head that was buried between my boobs. Sir, no indecent behavior please, I thought as I closed my jaws. His head easily burst, blood and bits of brain splattering me and the rest of the crowd coming for me.
The fuck was this? I just killed one of you!
They threw themselves at me with no hesitation. Stabbing me with knives, clobbering me with bats, a giant wave of squishy humans trying to bury me with their weight.
“GRoarww!” A sweep of my claws and heads parted from their bodies. Another slash ripped open the chests of three people, their guts flying in the air. My punch smashed right through a man’s skull. I drove my foot into one guy’s stomach to kick him away, but I put too much strength that my foot just went through him. I flailed my leg in frustration, trying to fling the body away.
“KILL! Kill the Adumbrae the SVS summoned! Don’t be afraid! The Mother Core is with us!”
"Kill! Kill! Kill!" chanted the mob.
They threw chains at me. I yanked them and whirled the chains around, smashing all the bodies it came into contact with. But they were relentless. Some managed to duck under the lashing chains and charged at me, others latched on the chains weighing it down, making me lose its momentum. I was dumbfounded by their insanity. Many were closing in on me again. I abandoned the chains and returned to my good old claws.
“GRrreaaow!”
“Kill! Kill!”
“Don’t fear death! All Adumbrae must die no matter the cost!”
So soft, everyone was so soft. One diagonal slash and my claws went through the bodies of four people. Two heads, a torso, and legs. No fighting style, no thought, just madly swiping everyone who came near. I was like a kid doing the helicopter punch strategy during recess fights.
What the hell is this? Confusion swirled in my head as I ripped through dozens of people, snuffing out their lives with barely any effort, as anti-climactic as it got. They couldn’t injure me enough to trigger my feral craving; werewolf Blanchette stayed silent inside me.
All this carnage and I didn’t feel any bloodlust at all. Boredom, yes. Astonishment at the craziness happening; I was in the middle of it but still couldn’t believe it. Also annoyance at the blood soaking into my clothes. I have to throw away this hoodie, sorry Deen.
“—shoot her!”
“—we might hit—”
“—fire! Fire! I don’t care about the others!”
From the chaotic cacophony, my ears pricked at the mention of shooting. I grabbed the people nearest me, a girl with a painted face and a guy wearing a bandana across his mouth. Pops of gunfire. I held the bodies up as shields, not knowing where the shooting was coming from. Many people dropped. I felt hot pain in my left leg.
Anger bubbled up from deep within me, a surprising emotion from the eerie lull.
Where’s the prey that hit me?
I charged like a raging bull at the people with guns, holding up corpses as shields and battering rams. I slammed into them, crushing them with their fellow PCM members. I shoved my claws into the pile of bodies, looking for the fuckers who attacked me.
I needed to consume their flesh…eat them to heal myself.
Eat them because they hurt me!
STOP! Don’t eat people, you stupid bitch.
Sane Erind fought back. If I ate them, I might spiral out of control. Turning into a giant werewolf in the middle of the city was the last thing I wanted to do. And I had a mission here. I concentrated on my hearing while sending bodies flying.
“—SVS are escaping—!”
“—catch them—”
“—shoot them! They summoned an Adumbrae!”
I cut through the crowd, looking for Ramello and the SVS, ignoring the weak humans trying to bludgeon me. They were no threat. Just a minor annoyance.
The SVS was fighting their own battle. Ramello somehow managed to free himself and was untying the others while fending off the mob. I chucked body parts at people with guns to help out—hey, I’m getting good at this throwing thing.
“Run!” Ramello said while he fought with a PCM member for his hockey stick. He managed to win and waved the stick around to drive back the others. “Run! I’ll hold them!”
Oh, come on. Don’t do that heroic shit. I was supposed to save him, and now he was staying behind.
I clambered over a couple of people, stepped on their heads, and jumped over the crowd towards Ramello. His eyes widened as I landed in front of him. I must’ve presented a grisly sight having bathed buckets of blood and innards.
“You! I remember you,” he said, raising his hockey stick. “Sta-stay awa—”
I wrested the hockey stick from him, then pointed it at the fleeing SVS people paired with a jerk of my head. That should be a clear sign to move along. He nodded and followed Reginus. A glint at the corner of my eye. A loud bang. I leaped to cover his back, getting hit with a strong blow around my mid-section. Ignoring the pain, I threw the hockey stick, butt-end first, at the guy with a shotgun, skewering him.
Calm down, Erind. Insatiable hunger welled up inside me. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth. My stomach was messed up, a bunch of holes all over my abs, but the pain was barely on my mind compared to the anticipation of food.
The shotgun guy wasn’t dead yet, just twitching on the ground with a hockey stick through his stomach. I could go over there and have a bite...
No!
Fight back the urge! Just focus on defending the SVS while they fled.
A mechanical whir to my right. A towering man, the biggest of the bunch I’d seen so far, brought down a rotating saw blade machine upon me. This could be the same one that cut through the warehouse locks. I easily caught it, letting the blade bury an inch deep in my palm out of curiosity, before clamping it with my claws.
So, this is how it feels like, I thought with a satisfied snarl. I then pulled it towards me.
Thinking he could fight me with his laughable human strength, he didn't let go and got dragged down. I grabbed his head and ended his life with a little squeeze. My claws pierce through his skull and into his brains. Blood burst out of all the orifices on his head.
Don't eat him. I just got myself a new meatshield against guns, not food. The sensation of hunger eased a bit as shotgun man died, probably trampled by the incoming crowd of people. Was that how it worked?
I held up my meatshield and readied myself for the next wave.
Is this some fucking joke?
I already killed so many of them. And they knew they couldn’t do anything to me. I was getting more and more weirded out by the second. I always became uncomfortable when humans weren’t behaving as expected, and that was a severe understatement in this situation. I knew people could radically change their behavior when joining like cults or something, but this was too extreme.
Everything felt surreal.
Was I was getting pranked on TV? Maybe some gag show was setting me up to think I was in the middle of a zombie infection outbreak. These fuckers were like zombies. But instead of running away, I was killing loads of people, so jokes on them, imaginary gag show.
Could this be the work of an Adumbrae—?
“Stop! Everyone stop!”
I gazed up to my left. On top of a cargo freight container was Megaphone Man. How did he get up there so quickly?
“STOP! Stop attacking!” he commanded on his megaphone. My eyes widened when the remainder of the mob halted in their tracks in unison like they were being controlled.
If that wasn’t weird enough, beside the kneeling Megaphone Man stood a little boy who was holding him by the collar, forcing him down. The boy carried a humungous axe over his shoulder, its double-bladed head wider than his shoulders, its shaft a couple of feet longer than his body. The axe glowed a sickly green, fitting for the Halloween theme of the night. One look and I could tell there was something seriously wrong with it.
Isn’t that one of the kids I saw earlier? I was right, there was some sketchy shit was going on with the PCM!
And it seemed I had a new enemy. Not sure if this little fuck was even human.
The kid struggled a bit to raise the axe over his head but surprisingly managed to do so even if his tiny hands couldn’t fully grasp the handle.
This really looks like a gag show.
Then he threw the axe at me.
