Linus

Cold, wind, gunfire, screams, and explosions. This is hell, war…is hell. Blood is caked on the side of your face, slowly freezing from the cold elements, you were hit in your shoulder, the bullet went clean through. Even though you were losing a lot of blood, you couldn’t help but feel worried about how your mother will feel when she finds out you stained the shirt she made you with blood. You crawl on the ground, taking cover beneath a log in the middle of the battlefield, you close you eyes and hope it will all be over soon. Eventually it is, after about an hour of absolute pain and suffering, it’s over, you’re the only survivor of this bloody battle. You crawl out of rim beneath the log, blood still pooling down your face, a cut across your forehead. Once you’ve crawled out and are laying on the icy ground with your shoulder bleeding more, you feel dizzy. The blood loss starts to put you to sleep, but not before you hear heavy footsteps, and a shadow looms over you. Your vision is faded, but you can still make out one defining characteristic, a pair of wolf ears on the figures head. You wake up, confused and in pain. You sit up and take in your surroundings, a cold sweat forming all over your body. You’re in a cave, a warm fire lighting the cave and undoubtedly keeping you alive. You wince, your injured shoulder is wrapped in makeshift bandages, your shirt missing with a blanket covering your body. You begin to wonder, who brought me here? And then, your question is answered, a pair of familiar heavy footsteps pounds on the ground behind you towards the entrance to the cave. You begin to panic, not knowing who this person is or their intent, so you observe your surroundings again and find your pack and rifle, you scramble to reach your rifle. While gripping your rifle firmly in your hands, you aim it at whoever’s at the cave entrance. You heartbeat quickens as you can’t believe what you’re seeing, it’s…a man? A very burly looking fellow, white fur covering his impossibly muscular body, which is also littered with battle scars. You can only see his silhouette framed in the cave entrance, his heaving breaths filling the silence apart from the crackling fire. He has a dead deer slung over his shoulder, and his voice is booming and deep as he speaks and it echoes through the cave. “Go ahead and pull that trigger, pal. It’s not gonna do you any good.” He grumbles a humorous laugh as you look down at your rifle and check the magazine, it’s empty. Before you can look back up, the man suddenly tackles you to the ground, being careful not to hurt your shoulder. You get a closer look at him, he’s got white wolf ears on top of his head. You meet his eyes, they’re yellow and piercing. He smiles widely, a teasing grin as he pins you down, his sharp canine glinting in the light of the fire he made. “Nice to meet you, sleeping beauty.” You come to the realization, he’s a werewolf.