Malik ran through the woods, running from the beast. He felt the tears of fear prickle in the corners of his eyes, and his breathing quickened. His chest tightened, his vision blurred; the only certainty he could see was his death. He tripped on a root and he hit the ground like a fallen tree. His head rang from the impact, at first, but was intensified by the roar of the beast now towering above him. He looked back and could see the yellowed eyes, the foreboding posture with claws ready to swipe.

            BANG!

A gunshot echoed through the woods, and Malik was splashed with the gore of the monster before him. A hole had appeared in the chest and it fell forward next to Malik. He looked at the body in the moonlight and could only describe what he saw with one name: Werewolf. Though a myth, the reality was here. It was real. He could smell the blood pooling around the body and staining the ground.

Malik, hyperventilating, glanced around looking for the shooter. Eventually, he noticed a dark figure in the distance holding a shotgun walking towards him. The man before him was tall with a small belly on him; a scraggly beard covered his face. He was panting and I could see the look of a hunter in his eyes, eager to claim his prize. Malik was still, though. He was utterly petrified, and he only wished he could vanish from sight.

“Gotcha, little bastard,” the man spoke with a huff, turning the beast onto its back. He pulled on a pair of black gloves and began digging into the new cavity. The sloshing and squishing of the insides made Malik nauseous, and he almost passed out when the man ripped a heart from the body. “Ha! Now your done and dead.”

Malik shuddered and his teeth chattered in his head. He felt so small in the presence of both the hunter and the beast; helpless.

“Oh, you survived! Hot damn, boy, quite rare for anyone or anything to outrun a werewolf. Color me impressed,” the hunter held out his hand to help Malik up. Taking the offered hand, he grunted as he stood. “You all right?”

“No! I’m not! How the hell is this real?!” Malik’s panic was finally turning to an angry disbelief.

“Oh, they’ve always been real. Vampires, witches, werewolves, demons, kelpies; they’re all very real. We’ve managed to keep the populations culled to keep the masses safe, but every so often one gets a nest set up close to a town. That’s my job to kill it.”

“Unbelievable. You’re insane,” Malik began pacing, keeping his eyes on the hunter standing opposite the carcass before them.

“You’re the one pacing next to a werewolf carcass,” the hunter snorted. Malik opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. “Come on. I’ll take you back to town.”

He noticed the blood coating Malik and frowned.

“On second thought, how about you come to my cabin and wash up. I think it’s apparent, but walking into town covered in blood that isn’t yours is a bad idea.” He winked at Malik and turned to head back down the path.

“What about the body?” Malik scoffed.

“Oh, they get picked clean quick. Werewolf is highly nutritious to the insects.”

Malik hesitated. Was he really about to follow a random man – a hunter of werewolves – back to an unknown cabin to get cleaned up before going back home? It was absolutely crazy and asking to get killed. On the other hand, was going to town and risk being seen covered in so much blood a better idea? Neither option was very cheery, so he took his step to follow the hunter.