The flames from the flare and its need to breathe only served to power the chemical reaction. The pain must have been intense as it actually tried to claw  its own throat to expel the flare. However the intense heat and flame eventually forced the werewolf to its knees and it fell face first into the ground.

When everything settled, Marc realised that the shooting had stopped entirely. In the distance there came a mass of footsteps approaching which meant he might be discovered. Intent on making sure his men saw no hide or tail of him. Marc used his sabre to free the creature of its head.

The thing was positively huge, and an excellent trophy. The man of war was not interested in hanging this creature’s head on his mantle back home. Besides, it was rumoured that werewolves reverted to their human form once the moon set. Still, he had an idea and wanted to send a message to dissuade further incursions across his lines.

“Besides,” Marc whispered. “It’ll give me something to write about…”

He willed himself to stem the bleeding at his back, and charged the creature once more. Not to be outdone the werewolf did the same, looking more determined than ever to come out on top.

This time Marc waited until the creature lunged at him before reacting. He took aim, and fired the flare gun at that gaping maw. The illumination flare shot out and very nearly went straight down the werewolf’s throat.

What appeared to be a certain death moments ago, had changed in his favour. The werewolf immediately reached for its throat as though choking. Marc managed to slide under the creature, and did not come to a stop before regaining his footing to distance himself from the beast.

To prevent another attack, Marc used up more of his blood to distance himself. By the time he slowed Marc was fifty-three paces away, staring down the creature with a bloodied paw. He could see it had trouble standing, but that was not enough to end it.

“I wonder if it learned a lesson…”

That long and angry howl certainly confirmed that it had not. Although Marc supposed that he should be thankful there were no replies.

He holstered his pistol and pulled out another. At this point, he knew that more exchanges like that would end up with him a chew toy. Time to take a page from Murphy’s playbook.

Marc remembered standing his ground as cavalry approached and realised a dozen horses and their riders charging in was nothing in comparison. Still, mass and speed could be leveraged.

Before the werewolf took a swipe, Marc quickly shifted out of the way and dropped to his knees. As all that mass of muscles and claws passed by, he swiped his blade as hard as his vampiric strength would permit, slashing the werewolf’s leg. The attack caused a deep slash that cut through muscle and tendons. That will slow him—

Werewolves were surprisingly more agile than expected. A set of claws grazed his back, cutting through his uniform and into the flesh. Marc tightened his jaw until his teeth strained, but he was not out of commission. I’ve already beaten the odds.

It howled again, but this time it sounded angry. Just because vampires were their natural prey, it did not mean Marc would just roll over and die. He dug in his feet and charged the creature.

Not to be outdone the eight feet fall killing machine did the same, approaching on all fours and launching dirt and rocks behind it. Marc knew he had one way out of this.

He emptied out the remaining chambers of his pistol aiming this time for the head. Had he been lucky he might have gotten an eye, instead he got more of the same. Can’t blame me for trying.

Upon spotting Marc it howled and clawed the ground making a huge gouge in the hard packed road. Marc stood his ground, as chunks of debris landed right by his feet. Seeing as hand-to-claw combat was out of the question, Marc decided to use what tools he had.

He took aim and fired off three shots from his pistol. All three of them hit in the centre of mass. I swear the rounds just bounced right off.

“Right, this thing can likely tango with an enraged polar bear,” Marc said.

“He’s not slowing down,” Marc muttered.

Next came the sound of a brick and mortar wall disintegrating as though hit by a sledgehammer. Fearing the worst he brought up his pistol to bear, just as the second wall gave way to the werewolf.

On its hind legs this thing must have been at least eight feet tall, and the claws alone were six inches long. It was literally a creature from humanity’s worst nightmare and the worst detail was… that’s not even a male.

How it found him, or why it was active a day after a full moon was irrelevant. A werewolf could decimate his team and he was not about to stand for it. There’s one small matter to attend to.

As the creature approached, Marc moved perpendicular to the creature. He focused on keeping just enough distance between them to lead the creature into the ruins of the town. Further away from my men.

That only seemed to infuriate the creature, before reaching cover there came a loud howl followed by a series of thumps that reminded him of a warhorse at full gallop. Marc expended a bit of blood to get behind the relative safety of what remained of a brick building. Sensing he was at a disadvantage Marc backed away, facing the approaching threat racing over the crater filled road.

“He’s not slowing down,” Marc muttered.

Had Marc been in touch with his emotions he might have actually panicked. Contrary to Drusilla’s firmly held beliefs that vampires were superior to all creatures in existence, that was not entirely true. There were things out there that even vampires avoided. It’s why our kind keeps to the cities instead of roaming the countryside.

He had never seen a werewolf before, but others of his kind spoke about them as though they were the boogeyman. They were said to be tall, wolf-like creatures that could stand on their hind legs. They were fast, immensely powerful, and could track his scent to the ends of the earth.