CHAPTER FOUR

Before she could grasp what was happening, Emma heard the crunching of bones and a wet slapping sound similar to that of a skin stretching. Her attacker’s features became more feral, their eyes changing and their faces contorting. 

Their fingers thickened, becoming dangerous claws, and their ears swooped back. They became a bit taller than they were, their feet growing longer and ankles raised off the ground. Loud grunts and snarls filled the room as their teeth extended into fangs and fur burst across their form. 

Emma watched fearsomely as they transformed into creatures she had never seen in her life. Eleven horrible creatures were crouching and circling their prey, who were standing undisturbed by their transformation. 

Their humaneness was replaced by beastly features. Whoever or whatever the man was, he was not frightened by them. But it wasn’t a fair fight, and he didn’t transform like them. 

Emma shuddered, struggling to keep her composure as she watched them standing in an aggressive stance. She felt the urge to run, but she knew she wouldn’t get that far. Her body was exhausted from the fight, and she could barely keep her eyes open. 

She heard their fierce growling. They were ready to attack. All at once, all of them lunged toward the man in the middle, their vicious eyes vigilantly fixed on him. 

The man jumped toward his enemies, his movement was swift and powerful. He dodged a claw aimed at his chest, swiftly rolling over and landing gracefully back on his feet.

His eyes fixed aggressively on the creature closest to him and in a swift movement that was too fast for Emma to see, he lacerated his opponent’s chest. 

She heard the howling sound and watched as more of them jumped toward him.

One more clean swipe at his injured opponent’s throat and his neck ripped wide open. He was dead. 

Emma watched as her attackers launched themselves towards him and his movement to defend himself. She heard a gurgling sound as blood splattered everywhere. One of the creatures dropped dead, blood gurgling from his ruptured neck. 

One by one, they fought him, but they were not his match. 

The cracking of bones, slashing of throats and howling sounds all came from her attackers. None of them was spared as their throats were slit, and their heads ripped off from their body. 

Torn limbs and dead bodies were everywhere. The sickening stench of Blood filled the air and the smell of death penetrated the building. 

At last, they were two fighters left. Callus was snarling aggressively and the man who had saved her. They had both dropped into a low squat and circled warily opposite each other. Emma observed their motion, her heart pounding in her rib cage. 

If Callus defeated and killed the man who saved her, she would be dead as well. She resisted the urge to pray for the man to kill him. 

She didn’t know his intentions, whether they were better or worse than Callus’s. Her mind assured her that he would kill Callus.

He had single-handedly taken down ten of his opponents, and he didn’t transform like them. He held back his humanness, but he was still stronger, faster, and more brutal. 

Emma has never witnessed anything like this. The closest she has been to a dangerous case was once she chased down a pickpocket. Technically, she was a desk agent than a field agent.

Therefore, watching this scene before her was only real to her in movies. The so much blood, decapitated heads and bodies, were really in front of her. It might take days or even months before she got a good night of sleep ever again.

If her sources led her here, that means that this was a breakthrough. And, who was the fierce warrior in front of her?

Emma tried to get to safety just in case more people were coming. If she had just survived her throat being slashed, better if she made use of the second chance given to her. 

As she snaked her way to a pile of crates, she noticed a shadow sneaking through the open window. While her savior was preoccupied fighting off Callius, the shadow tried to attack from behind.

At the speed of light, Emma reached for her gun and aimlessly shot the shadow as she was overwhelmed. Luckily, she hit the target, earning a deadly glare from the man. It was a glare that said, "I don't need your help.”

“You're welcome,” Emma mumbled before making it to where she was headed before.

The man turned his focus back to Callus.

Callus’s motion was slowly timed, too slow that it gave the man an advantage to recognize his move. He attacked, ink-dark eyes glaring at his prey as he swung towards him.

The man moved at a correctly precise angle, striking his first blow on Callus, his fingers managing to drag bloody graze marks across his face. He missed his neck, but Emma was sure it wouldn’t happen again. 

Again, Callus pounced first, and this time, he moved violently toward his opponent. Instead of backing out, the man launched himself toward Callus as well. 

They both leaped at the same time, meeting in the air and exchanging blows and claws.

Callus swung a powerful right, but his opponent dodged gracefully and lashed out his own. He was faster, and he caught Callus' head in one sudden movement. With one powerful swipe, he returned gracefully to the ground. 

Callus fell after him like a limp rag, his head severed from the rest of his body, and the gurgling sound of blood rang in the room as blood splattered all over. It was over. 

As she sat crumpled on the ground, her eyes focused in front of her, she realized the fight was over. There were bodies all over the warehouse and the ground was slippery with blood. 

She had survived, but not by the powers of her hands.

Someone had come to save her and had bloodied and battered eleven gruesome creatures to save her. Squinting, she looked towards her savior, who now held the dangling head like a trophy, emotions void from his face. 

She was saved, wasn’t she?