‘And if they ran, he would hunt them down…’
WHEN FOOLS CAN BE KINGS
Keegan MacIntyre & Irina Bianchi
prompt: “no one’s gonna take me alive; the time has come to make things right”
With a final crack of bone and sinew, and pop of cartilage, the werewolf’s spine rippled into place, muscles flexing as raw power radiated from its form. Its large fangs were revealed as jowls lifted, in a feral, sharp display, and the curved ears angled back against a thick skull, the hackles down the animal’s neck, shoulders and back rising like electrified razor spikes. Claws flexed and clenched, a fierce show of warning, and the yellow eyes blazed, black pupils dilating in the wan light of the alley. The steel-grey hair of the large, bipedal wolf shone ironically like silver in the moonlight that pierced the gaps in the roofs of the buildings, the colour like a blanket of false innocence.
The trio of vampires seemed to shrink back warily. A werewolf in human form… that, they could handle. When transformed? That was a different story.
The creature otherwise known as Keegan MacIntyre bristled furiously, standing over his prone comrade, protecting her with his life. His chest heaved with a deep inhalation, the breath rushing out of him in a loud, throaty snarl. They had dared to lay their cold, dirty hands on his friend; his fellow fighter… they would pay for that. And they would pay dearly.
A hush fell over the group, the three vampires, respectively armed with a baseball bat, steel pipe, and large knife, stood facing the towering wolf. None of them moved. They all waited… waited for the other to take the first step.
Keegan could wait. And if they ran, he would hunt them down… track their sickly, decaying scents to the borders of the city if he had to, chasing their filth out of the pack’s territory. Their kind sickened him, and caused a white-hot kind of rage to burn anew in the back of his mind, boiling down through his blood to spark a fire in his stomach. He wanted to tear at them; destroy them, and…
He had to be calm. He had to be steady. He had to focus. Operating on nothing but rage, vengeance and anger… that wouldn’t help him win this fight. And he would win. He wasn’t arrogant, not by a long shot, but he knew his strengths, and as he stood facing the three leeches, he knew he could best them.
No one’s gonna take me alive…
His nostrils flared in a derisive kind of snort as the vampires stared at him. What were they waiting for?
Below and behind him, shielded by his bulky, feral form, Irina Bianchi barely stirred. Keegan could smell her blood on the air, igniting his fury all over again. It burned in his eyes, and a new growl rumbled like thunder up from his chest.
One of the vampires tensed… started to move…
The time has come to make things right.
Before the vampire even finished taking his step forward, Keegan pounced. Pushing off powerfully with his bent hind legs, he soared through the air with the grace and prowess of a bird of prey, slamming into his target so hard that they collided with the wall together in a chorus of cracking bone. The vampire roared in pain, trying to club at the supernatural wolf with his pipe. A huge paw snatched around the length of metal, his claws scraping down its length like nails down a chalkboard. The wolf’s sensitive ears pitched back, irritated by the sound. Wrenching the crude weapon from the vampire’s grip, he took hold of the creature by the throat, and hurled him into a dumpster at the opposite end of the alley, revelling in the sound of the heavy, dull clang as they impacted.
The bat-wielding leech ran at him, screaming an oath. Keegan simply cocked his head, waiting for the vampire to get close enough.
And when he did, he was jerked to a halt with such force that he gave himself whiplash. The bat fell from his hand, rolling away across the alley. His already-dimming eyes looked down at his chest, seeing the gaping hole in his chest seconds before he burst into a cloud of useless, sickly ash. Keegan almost sneezed, lifting his jowls in a grimace at the sticky, almost clotted blood on his right paw and forearm. That was going to stink for days…
With a snarl, he was brought back out of his momentary distraction, roaring down at the vampire who clutched the large blade as if it were his last hope for ‘survival’. And he was right. Without it, his destruction would be too simple. But with it… well, at least it was something of a challenge. The sharp edge was already stained with the female wolf’s blood, from where he had slashed deeply into her side, cutting far enough to subsequently rob her of her consciousness.
Keegan, infuriated by the fact that his blood now mingled with hers on that same blade, ignored the slash across his abdomen; it wasn’t deep, and the weapon was steel. It would heal, and it wouldn’t scar. Not that one more scar would have really changed much, but it was the principle of the thing.
He wrapped a large, viciously-clawed paw around the limb connected to the blade, and wrenched, listening to the satisfying crack and pop of the shoulder coming out of joint, dislocating painfully, making the vampire yelp pitifully. Baring his fangs, almost a grin, he watched the unbridled fear wash over the pale features for a moment, before he lunged forward, driving his enemy into the ground with a snap as his entire arm broke like weak kindling. Letting the vampire scream for only a second, he sunk his fangs into the throat of the creature, snarling as thick, cold blood coated the roof of his mouth and tongue, clinging disgustingly like glue. Wrenching and tearing, ensuring the leech suffered before the end, he finally cleaved his teeth right through, hearing the crunch and squelch of bone, muscle and arteries as they were crushed and severed. He reeled back just in time to avoid being coated by the filth of the vampire’s disintegrating remains as they clouded upwards like a cough from a volcano.
The process started to reverse, with an eerie, misleading smoothness, and moments later, Keegan stood back in place, reaching up to sweep ash from his shaggy hair, spitting onto the ground. That taste was going to linger… dammit…
A shuffle down the alley immediately grabbed his attention. He growled, remembering the tossed vampire. The bastard was still ‘alive’. He saw the scrambling figure, the undead punk having no doubt realised the werewolf had spotted him. But Keegan didn’t intend to let him get away, not after the trio of assholes had dared to try and ambush them in the first place.
Not even hesitating, he stepped forward, snatched up the fallen blade, stood and launched it down the alley, needing only a second to aim. It crashed into the back of the fleeing vampire, smashing through protective bone to obliterate the heart. He fell, exploding into ash on the way down.
Job done… almost…
Keegan returned to Irina, quickly pulling on his shirt, boots, jacket and weapons before carefully scooping her into his arms. Without even glancing back into the alley, he started heading back for The Hyperion.