The woods fell silent.
The moon disappeared behind the clouds.
“What do we do?” one of the hunters cried. “What do we do? What is it? What is—”
Something landed on the house. The structure groaned and shifted but still held.
I lifted my head.
There, on the roof, was a beast.
Robert Livingstone was bigger than I remembered him being. One eye glowed bright red, the other gone, its socket empty. He bent over the edge of the roof, craning his neck forward, mouth open, saliva dripping from his fangs, tail swishing. He pulled back slowly before standing upright on his hind legs, towering over us.
“Oh my god,” the man above me whimpered. “Oh my god, no.”
The hunters didn’t have a chance to fire their guns. One moment Livingstone stood on the roof above us, and the next he jumped, landing on the group near the timber wolf. A man and a woman died instantly, bones breaking as he stood on top of them. One of the remaining hunters raised his gun, but Livingstone swung out his arm and hit the man in the chest, sending him flying into one of the trucks. It rocked up on two wheels before overturning.
The second to last hunter tried to run, but Livingstone caught him between his jaws, and he made it three more steps without his head before falling to the ground.
The timber wolf rushed toward us, the man above me distracted by the beast. The wolf leapt, and the man raised his gun at the last second. I snapped my head over, closing my fangs around his leg, and bit down. The man screamed, the gun slipping from his hand. He was knocked off his feet as the wolf landed on top of him. He didn’t scream after that.
I rolled over onto my back, my leg on fire, stomach twisting.
I blinked slowly toward the sky.
And then came an immense pressure, a tight angry band that wrapped itself around my arms and chest, and I was lifted off the ground.
I tried to fight it.
But I was too weak.
And here, at last, I was face-to-face with Livingstone.
His breath was hot and rank as he pulled me toward his mouth. His one eye was like a burning red sun. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, a growl coming from deep in his chest.
“Fuck you,” I managed to say.
And then: “Don’t.”
Livingstone snapped his jaws.
“Put him down. Don’t do this. Down. Now.”
Livingstone roared in my face.
“If you hurt him. I’ll leave you. Be alone. Always alone. Forever. No one else.”
Livingstone shook me, my head snapping back and forth.
And then he dropped me.
I landed roughly on the ground, screaming at the fresh wave of pain that shot through my leg. My vision was tunneling, and my hands were numb.
Then, from above me, came a whisper. “Are you… are you real?”
I opened my eyes.
A man stood over me.