Watters's heart thrashed against his chest, a wild rhythm against the rising tide of uy. The world was tilting, logic slipping away. Hilda, the hair, the silver… it was all a nightmare.

  The air shimmered with soot, the sky a vas of blood red. The moon hung heavy, a malevolent eye in the heavens.

  The screams of the vilgers mingled with the snarls and howls of wolves, a terrifying cacophony of chaos. "What in God's name is happening?!" Watters shouted.

  "Help us! Please, anyone!" a woman cried from down the road; her dress covered in blood. Watters ran toward her. "Stay still! I'll—" he began, but a monstrous shape lunged from the darkness, nding squarely on the woman. Her scream cut short. The beast tore into her throat, a geyser of blood erupting across the cobblestones.

  “Dear God…” he murmured as he watched the poor woma her end. Her st gasps a desperate gurgle as she was ripped limb from limb. The monster roared ferociously, howling at the moon with an unholy fury. Its body, silhouetted against the pale moon revealed a massive frame, about seve i. Its head, that of a wolf, it’s cws massive. “It couldn’t be!” he shouted in disbelief.

  The monster's gaze, a searing yellow, pierced Watters. He stood paralyzed, fear a cold knot in his stomach.

  The creature lunged, a dark, terrifying shape hurtling toward him. BOOM! The sharp crack of a rifle. The monster, a hair's breadth away, was thrown aside, crashing into a cottage with a siing thud.

  Watters’s eyes darted left and right, searg for the source of the shot. "Who…?"

  Then, the sound of hooves. A figure on horseback materialized from the shadows. Bck clothes. A massive bck steed. And those eyes… burning white, like twin stars in the darkness. The horse reared, a powerful, almost supernatural image. Watters stared, his mind rag.

  "You there!" he cried, his legs trembling as he approached the mysterious figure. "Thank you!"

  The rider's eyes soward Watters, leaving streaks of light in their wake. His face was pletely obscured by shadow, as if he were darkness inate. He was a giant of a man, easily t over six foot four, with hands to match.

  "Frail ohe man in bck roared, his voice like gravel.

  Watters froze. "Yes?" he stammered, fear gripping him.

  "This town is lost. Flee this pce, or you will join in your townsfolks fate." The man anded.

  Another explosion rocked the town, closer this time. The massive horse reared, and the man's icy gaze locked onto Watters. He she reins and charged toward the town's ter.

  He vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Watters hadn't seen a man that size sihe war. Was he with the Order, here to save us? Or something else entirely? he wondered. He felt helpless, seeing someone so capable dispense of such a creature with such ease. Even when he was with The Order during the Holy Crusade, he was hat physically gifted.

  Screams still echoed through the vilge, a stark reminder of the chaos. Watters stumbled toward the dead woman's body, another victim of the monster. Her throat was torn out, blood seeping into the cracks of the cobblestones. Her eyes, wide with shock, stared bnkly. Watters k beside her, his nightmare made real.

  Two brutal deaths in a single day. Watters felt cursed. He couldn't make sense of any of it. Were these creatures...werewolves? he thought, dismissing the idea as quickly as it came. No. Impossible. They’re all dead!

  A visceral, ear-pierg shriek tore through his thoughts. It sounded almost like a pained i, emanating from the very spot where he'd stood moments before. Watters whirled around, a knot of terror and fusion tightening in his stomach. The sound was like a trapped animal, its cries raw with agony. Or something…worse, a chilling thought whispered in the back of his mind.

  He stared, transfixed, at the dead creature. Its body was vulsing violently, bones snapping like twigs and twisting into grotesque, unnatural shapes. The skin on its head began to split, revealing the raw, blood-soaked skull beh, scraps of muscle falling to the cobblestones like discarded rags. Abruptly, the skull s the jaw hihe two halves gaping open like a gruesome flower. A thick, fleshy tendril erupted from the creature's neck cavity, writhing and shing in the air like a grotesque tongue.

  Watters recoiled, his breath catg in his throat. "It's mutating!" he screamed, the word ripped from him as he withe horrifying transformation. His heart hammered against his ribs, sweat beading on his forehead and trig down his temples.

  The creature’s shrieks intensified, morphing into guttural howls that echoed through the ravaged vilge. Its body flipped over, then began to shake untrolbly. With a siing crabsp;and pop, six i-like legs, three on each side, burst from the creature's torso, tearing through flesh and sihey scuttled against the cobblestowitg and grasping as if testing their newfouence.

  The monster shrieked, a hellish sound unnatural in every way, sending Watters' ears reeling. The noise was so intense, blood trickled from his ear als. The scream stopped. The doctor looked back at the mutated monstrosity; it was staring right at him, its eyes burning with malevolent i. Watters' eyes widened.

  Like a demon from hell, the monster scuttled towards him, easect-like leg tapping the cobblestones with terrifying speed. The limp corpse of the inal creature bobbed grotesquely atop the mutation with eaent. Watters ran, feverishly sprinting away from the abomination. What the hell is that thing? he thought. What in God's name made it mutate?

  With each turn, alleyway after alleyway, the monster gained. His lungs burned; he hadn't run like this since he was a young man. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him alive; his legs were starting to give way. No, no, his mind screamed, rag with the thought of impending doom.

  The creature snarled and roared, its massive tendril tongue shing out, getting ever closer. Watters could feel its hot, fetid breath on his neck. Suddenly, the tendril ed tightly around his ankle, smming him down violently.

  Watters' skull ricocheted off the cobblestones, disorienting him. The tendril flipped him onto his back. His fate was sealed. A guttural shriek pierced his ears as a sed, fleshy skull enveloped the tendril, this oh rows of serrated, off-pced teeth. The mucus reeked, suffog the poor doctor.

  His vision blurred. He spotted a glint from a shelf full of silver decorations—a dispy from one of the town’s craftsmen! With every ounce of strength, he reached for the shelf and grabbed a silver letter opener. SHIK! Watters slid the bde into one of the creature's slimy tendrils.

  The abomination shrieked in pain, its grip on his leg loosening. Watters stared as the creature was engulfed in fmes. Its agonized cries echoed through the alleyways as it was reduced to a sm pile of ash.

  Watters' breathing was ragged. He clutched his chest, trying to slow his rag heart. The realization hit him. "Silver!" he gasped, the word ripped from his throat. "It's the silver! I-I have to warn him!"

  He grabbed the silver letter opener and and hobbled toward the tower, his future uain as the howls of lys echoed in the distance.