Burning eyes in the darkness.

Bloody bits of his pack lying on the floor, a piece of a jawbone here, covered in hair matted by blood, a claw still attached to a hand, a squished mess that used to be an eye. Blood covers the left side of his vision, but wiping at it brings an intense agony that he can’t abide, and causes him to whimper as he continues forward, half-blind, in agony from a dozen different wounds, and wishing his body would heal itself quicker.

The clicking of his toenails upon the tile floor of the kitchen sound like gunshots with his enhanced, hyper-sensitive hearing, and he’s certain that the owner of the home will appear at any moment, the burning gaze finding him once again, as it’s found his pack throughout the sprawling mansion. Who did they end up pissing off this time? He still had no idea who, or what, this individual was, but the landlord had waded through them without so much as a pause, tearing them apart, literally, as though they were no more substantial to him than figures made of clay

No one had ever dominated them like this, not even the damned bloodsuckers. Even the horrid creations that had been pieced together by the legendary madman that had perished at the hands of one of his creations couldn’t top this current threat.

Part of Rourke was screaming at him to run, to get out of this place, to leave whoever was left and find another den that he could recruit, or to simply disappear. But Annalina, his sister, and Sarah, were still somewhere in the house, as was another of his pack, their connection to the human world, Renfro. He couldn’t leave them, if they were still alive. Rourke had yet to see proof that they’d met their end at the hands of the unknown threat that none of them had seen coming. He might be a fool to keep searching for them, but as he exited the kitchen, wading back into the shadowed hallways, he knew that he couldn’t leave without knowing.

Even as he glanced to his right however, Rourke felt his balls shrivel as two burning, reddish orbs found him.

“Good evening.”

Rourke tried to attack, to run, to do something, but that burning red gaze pinned him, and soon the dark swallowed him.

(to be continued)

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