The Van Helsing Conjecture – Excerpt No. 13

“Now!” Clara yelled when Artemis lumbered toward the werewolf.

Clara’s change in focus had a simultaneous effect. While she synced up with time, the werewolf sped up. While naturally fast, this one streaked across Clara’s vision as though a bullet.

A tree splintered and collapsed onto itself, but no one was near it when its impact made the ground tremble. That’s my girl!

Clara spotted the furry beast with its jaw locked onto the goddess’ midsection. The werewolf repeatedly shook her head violently to the left and right. Those fangs tore through flesh and caused that golden blood to splatter the forest floor. When done, the werewolf let go of the motionless lump.

A towering, photo-realistic black furred werewolf with piercing yellow eyes and razor-sharp claws stands menacingly over a distressed Roman goddess, her alabaster skin illuminated by the soft, silver glow of the full moon hanging low in the dark winter sky. The werewolf's fur is matted and wet, its ears pointed and alert, as if listening for any sign of escape from the goddess, who lies helpless at its paws. The forest floor is blanketed with a thick layer of untouched snow, the trees' bare branches stretching towards the sky like skeletal fingers, while the air is crisp and cold, the mist of the goddess's breath visible in the chill air. The goddess's classical features are twisted in a mix of fear and defiance, her marble-like skin gleaming with a subtle sheen, her golden jewelry glinting dully in the moon's pale light.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.