Vilkas put his phone down, his brows furrowed. Lucas saw some kind of concern on the husky's face. “What is it?" asked the coyote.

“Just Octo asking about Kevin." The husky shrugged and took one crisp, munching it. “Friends of mine."

“Oh. I know Octo, though."

“Right, I forgot you two played each other."

They chuckled at the inside joke.

“What was it again?" The husky asked.

“Oh, right. Tom is… well… nice and cute and all. I mean, for an introvert he's sure pretty nice to get to know."

“All introverts are nice to get to know if they let you get to know them." Vilkas took another crisp. “But not many are going to let you. Someone told me Tom is pretty selective about who he considers a friend."

“Really?"

“Well, my friend said it. He was the one who… well… to put it simply, really interested in getting to know the wolf."

Lucas shrugged. “Yeah. Tom doesn't let many people into his inner circle. Still, I feel like he's… hiding something. Like, he can be so open at times and so closed at times, even so open and so closed at the same time. I know it's weird since we all do that, but it's just… odd."

“Odd?"

“Yeah, like he's hiding something big and doesn't think we can handle it. Like the secret of the world stuff."

The husky hummed. “I wouldn't say secret of the world stuff but yeah, he can be a riddle at times."

A riddle… Hmm, that encounter a week ago, he remembered it. That bison just appeared out of nowhere and began speaking in riddles with the wolf. That was weird. “Yeah, I get that."

“Tom won a national conference last semester. I think it has to do with that." The husky continued. “I mean, if one wins a national conference, one must really have a way with words."

Lucas leant on the sofa. “Yeah, but I've never thought that about him. He's just… there, blending in like everyone." He pondered about the first time he met the wolf. He was about to pet his head, but the wolf quickly took a step back and made him almost stumble forward. “But there were occasions where he gets… different."

“I know right." Vilkas sighed. “Let's… just drop the topic and talk about something lighter."

The coyote looked away, pondering. Tom had always been… something. He was nice, yeah, but somehow there was something under that niceness. As if there was black under that grey.

He shrugged it off. It wasn't like people weren't hiding their secrets anyway. Everyone had a bad story now and then, and it wasn't his place to ask about it.

Rodrigo looked ahead, his mouth set in a line. He was angry yet afraid, shaken yet still. It was admiration, perhaps, admiration laced with horror. The scene before him was different yet eerily familiar but not in a good way. He didn't think he'd be witnessing this again but here was he.

This was Red Wolf whom he fought almost to death those years ago.

The bison smirked to himself. That was too dramatic, even for him. Still, with life like him, any wrong opportunity or bad luck could lead to death. In a way, he welcomed it, but in a way, he was afraid to die. He wasn't ready, but at the same time, he was ready. Ironic, really.

There, Red Wolf fought almost valiantly, if dirtily. Almost everyone here right now knew the pain of being on the receiving end of a gun, yet Red Wolf seemed like he lived in it. He still fought madly, almost blindly thrashing his way while at the same time his movements seemed calculated and purposeful. The way he moved, the way he changed his stances, they were all so practised.

Rodrigo wasn't as well-exercised as that, but he did know that Red Wolf was more than just a force to be reckoned with. Amongst the men here, he was a veteran, having been on battlefields like this numerous times. Barrowisle was a calm, quiet city, yet law was law and it was unkind to those who did not obey.

His friends—if he could call them that—in turn fought him well, but it was clear that they were less experienced. Some even looked like they wanted to retreat, yet his boss was still here, issuing no such orders. His boss, a horse, was still observing them with an increasingly worried look. Rodrigo knew that look; he was surprised and concerned.

Rodrigo himself did not know how to feel. On one hand, some of his friends seemed to be dying as he dragged them aside, some having simple wounds, some direr. Whilst blood and death weren't something weird to him, seeing it in front of him was still not a pleasant experience.

Red Wolf was still a wolf. Species-wise, he had slightly the upper hand. While there were also wolves and some tigers and lions here, they lacked the bravery, or madness, that Red Wolf was showing.

Should he join, though? He did have a personal score to settle, after all. His ribs might have recovered, but he still wanted to knock Red Wolf into his place. Maybe it was like what Red Wolf said, he was a boy crying over broken toys.

Chuckling to himself, Rodrigo threw the guns away and followed his boss as they walked into the scene. Dagger ready, he took a deep breath and joined the fight, resolving his wake to see whether this would end or he would end.

Whatever doubt Max had about Tom losing to them was slowly dissipating.

Tom looked like he was enjoying the moment. He swung his staff with a determined face, sometimes clawing at them, sometimes shooting at them. They seemed like no match against his swift and precise movements. He didn't even bat an eye as he dodged the punches!

But he still got slashes and punches. He saw the wolf cringed but kept on fighting as if the pain only riled him up more. And the blood terrified him; the wolf didn't seem to notice that the slash marks were leaking blood.

Heck, he didn't seem to notice that he was fighting with ten or more possibly trained men! This was like a scene from a badass action film, just unfolding in front of his eyes. While he enjoyed the film, he did not enjoy this at all.

Max's heart then almost stopped when someone took hold of his arm. He turned around and saw two people pointing guns at him. He quickly punched the guy in the stomach, but another one held him and pointed his gun at his head.

“Good dog stays down!"

Fuck!

He trashed in their hold, but the threat hung in the air. He couldn't fight, not like Tom.

“Oi, brat!" the one pointing his gun said to the wolf. “Back the fuck down if you want to see him alive!"

Tom looked at him, his expression turned surprised. But before anyone could take his arms and hold him down, the wolf pointed his gun at him.

Max closed his eyes, fearing the worst. Please don't shoot me please don't shoot me please don't shoot me

Two shots fired, two people screamed, and the hands holding his arms were gone.

“You dare touch him?!"

Max was utterly terrified at that. Tom sounded harsh, feral, and the tone he used was enough to keep him down.

“Max, what are you doing here--run!" the wolf then said, making him open his tearful eyes. He didn't even know he was sobbing. “Call the police!"

He shook his head. “No! I won't leave you here!"

“Go! Call the fucking police! No—UGH!"

Someone kicked the wolf, then repeatedly punched him. They held his arms quickly before he could stand back up and shoot his shoulder. “Go, Max!"

Max stared at him wide-eyed. No, he wouldn't leave him alone here! Not when he was on the verge of being killed!

Why… why did this happen…

“Fucking do it, Max!"

Fuck it!

The dog stood up and ran from there as fast as he could, leaving the wolf alone. The tears he had been holding were let out. Why the fuck did this happen?!

Someone took his arm and spun him around. He almost fell but managed to jump back and turn around. Two people were in front of him, armed with daggers.

They punched him, trying to bring him down. He dodged their knives and kept up; if Tom could fight ten people alone, then he should have no problem with two.

He saw an opening, then he punched one guy on the face as hard as he could, then on the gut, then the face again. Another one tried to stab him, but the dog was faster and took his arm, almost crushing it and causing the knife to fall away. He punched him again as hard as he could.

The two guys were down. He looked at them groaning on the ground, trying to stand back up. When he heard more screams behind him, Max looked up, then ran away as fast as he could.

He was down. There were hands on his back, holding him, pinning him down. He couldn't move.

“Fuck, Lain!" Tom wriggled his arms, but it was no use.

“Wait."

Lain took over, and he stopped struggling.

Ah, Tom thought, the classic pretending-to-lose trick.

He heaved for air, ignoring the blood dripping from his fur. His tongue was out, trying to cool down his overheated body. The smell of blood in the air was strong. The hands then loosened a bit.

“Hold him tight! Don't let him move!"

“Heh, chain me if you want."

“How does it feel to lose, heh?" Someone said to him. “Your time's up."

He looked up, it was Rodrigo's boss.

He grinned.

Pointing a gun right at his head, the horse grinned back at him. “Say goodbye now, bitch."

He growled.

The horse laughed, but then Lain bit his hand as hard as he could, making the horse scream. Blood came out of the hand, and he ended up ripping the flesh away. It tasted better than Rodrigo's. He caught the gun before it landed on the ground, closing his jaw and denting it. No need to break it; even a small dent on the silo would prevent it from being useful.

Like that fight with Rodrigo, he stepped on the horse, twisting his body and kicking the horse. They didn't let go of his arms, but Lain still spun around and landed on them, feeling the sensation of his arms twisted.

They finally let go, and Lain jumped away, looking at them with a maniacal grin on his bloody muzzle. His arms were almost numb, so he simply let them sway on his sides as blood rushed back to them.

Oh, he realised they had stopped shooting. They had probably run out of bullets.

“You taste good," he said to the horse while licking the blood from his muzzle. “better that Rodrigo."

Several of them took a step back. The horse looked at him with gritted teeth.

“C'mon, Tom! You're missing the fun!" Lain said cheerfully.

Tom sighed at the back of his mind. “Okay, fine. Let me fully take over."

Lain was glad to let him take over.

“Fuck! What are you?!"

Tom looked at his claws and laughed. Lain's happy squeal stopped and he raised his brow in worry; this was not Tom.

“A monster, maybe. I dunno, ask Rodrigo." He shrugged, then snickered at them. “Or, maybe don't, since none of you are going to escape tonight."

The third voice grinned. He could almost see Death behind them, waiting for him to deliver them to Him.

“Don't bloody forget why we used to be on the top of the fucking food chain!"

Tom dashed towards them, preparing his claws and opened his muzzle. He landed on one of them, then took a bite and ripped the clothes and flesh away. That lion screamed, and he relished in his suffering. “Hmm, tastes pretty good, eh?"

Lain didn't answer.

Someone stabbed his back, making him scream. He turned around, trying to get the knife out. When he did, he threw it away and it landed on a lion who was trying to attack him. Fortunately the knife didn't go too far to his back; these mafias sure were stupid.

He grinned, then took hold of the lion's mane and pulled until he heard a krk sound. Probably a neck breaking.

Tom jumped at the wall, and back at Rodrigo's boss before he could get away. The horse roared, but he wasn't letting him off easily. This was probably the one who came up with the idea for this operation, so he should be extra nice and give him some more bites and slashes.

He then swiped his leg away, and the horse fell to the ground with a thump. He snarled at anyone who came close as he took the horse's neck, squeezing it as hard as he could until his claws sunk in.

“Us wolves don't bark. We bite," he said, then bit the horse's neck, ripping the flesh away. The screams and gasps sounded like music to his ears. He didn't care if there were wolves too in front of him. “And then, we howl."

He howled into the dead of the night.

Was that… Tom?

Max hugged his feet tightly. The howl sounded terrifying, bloodthirsty, like someone was initiating a hunt and rallying his pack or had caught prey and howling their victory. It was making him tremble in terror.

What was Tom doing?! Why did he turn so quickly into a bloodthirsty maniac?! Why was he so good at fighting?! Why in the fucking hell did he look like he was enjoying all of that?!

He couldn't leave him alone… no… he couldn't…

Max had found an empty factory not far from there, but he could even still hear the fight happening. The screams were haunting him, even more so Tom's maniacal laughter. He pulled his ears tight when he heard the howl again.

Seriously… what was happening?!

Should he… should he just run away? Should he call the police? Should he come back?

A million thoughts ran inside his head and he was too panicked to choose one of them.

Then the howl stopped.

He looked at his hands, his cheeks wet because of the tears. He shouldn't be here, sitting away when Tom was there, getting killed. He should get help, call the police, at least get a word out so someone could help him.

Fuck, he left his phone back there!

Stop being a coward! Don't you see your best friend getting killed back there?! What are you, a wimp?!

He stood up and ran back to the scene.

Octo looked up at the sky. Someone howled into the night. He furrowed his eyebrows; wasn't howling in public places not allowed?

Whoever howled, they sounded breath-taking. They must also be big because he could still hear the howl, faint though it was. Unlike Kevin's howl that night in his dorm, this one was scary but still beautiful. Wolves, and in extension dogs, could be so majestic sometimes, he forgot.

He looked away and let out a sigh, not allowing himself to ponder about it. He had a more important matter right now. It was getting late in the night, and he still hadn't heard a word from Kevin. He was getting even more worried. The tram stopped and he got down, tapping his phone on the register.

The red wolf's dorm was up ahead. Wasting no time, he ran straight through the entrance. The dorm manager yelled something at him, but he didn't hear her.

Room D338. Up the stairs, second from the kitchen.

When he reached the room, he barged right inside, but the red wolf was nowhere to be seen.

“Uh, hey?"

He turned to Kevin's weasel roommate who looked surprised. Octo breathed for air for a bit, then asked him. “You, did you see Kevin today?"

“Um, no. I didn't see him today."

Fuck! He facepalmed in exasperation. “Any idea where he might be?"

“Uh, not really? Sorry… um, you shouldn't just go inside someone's dorm like that."

The panther turned his head sharply at him. The weasel cowered. “Forget what I said!"

Where else could he be… where else could he be…

Octo just nodded at him. “Thanks."

He closed the door and leant against it. Where else could he be…?

Yes! The pain felt so good!

Tom laughed as he ripped flesh apart, relishing every drop of blood that trickled down his body. His shirt was torn, there were some bullets lodged in his body, but who would care? This was better than that. The rush felt amazing.

“Uh, Tom, I think it's enough."

He took someone's arms and kicked his back. “What do you mean?! It's all fun!" he laughed to Lain. “You're right! We missed this!"

Someone slashed the fur of his tail, then he turned around and pinned a cat to the wall. He grinned at him; his fangs mere centimetres away from his neck.

There was a voice from behind.

He instantly turned around and kicked that someone, making him tumble to the cat. Oh and gave him a slash for a good measure.

However, in the corner of his eye, he saw someone running towards him. Was that Max? What was he doing?!

He turned to the dog and shouted. “Max, what are you doing here?! Go!"

“No, Tom! I'll help you!" Max crouched and took something on the floor.

Before he could react, someone took his tail and pulled it, then kicked him on the face hard.

It made him fly several metres again. Ugh, what was up with the kicks? He felt like he hit someone but didn't allow himself to stand down. The pain felt too good to ignore.

“Tom, please, let's… get away from here…." He heard Max's plea next to his ear. The dog sobbed.

“You go away from here! I'm gonna finish them!" He barked at the dog as he tried to stand up. His legs felt a bit numb; maybe he had gotten more slashes than he thought.

“Tom, no!"

Tom opened his eyes and didn't see anything. Everywhere was black.

Was… was he blind?

Fuck! Someone had kicked him in the face and it rendered his left eye blind! Now he couldn't see anything.

But, oh well, Death is welcome anyway.

“Tom! Listen to your friend! We'd better fall back!"

He managed to stand up and licked his muzzle, ignoring Lain trying to take over. No way was he leaving from such an entertaining fight! “Heh, you made a grave mistake." He laughed maniacally, then he turned to Max, or he thought to Max's general direction. “You, dog, listen to me. Whatever happens, don't come near me or you can get killed. Understand?"

He didn't hear the dog's answer. His ears already pinned down a sound, and he dashed towards it. He felt fur, then he bit it, slashed it, anything that could make his victim scream in pain. Whoever touched him had better regret living, just like he himself regretted living.

He felt drops of blood dripping from his claws, but he didn't stop. His ears turned here and there as he saw with sound. Someone touched his back, slash. Someone touched his tail, jump and slash. He grabbed someone and bit hard with his fangs, ignoring the screams. He bathed in their blood and he never felt so alive.

There were body parts on his claws, and he swatted them away. Did he just step on a severed arm? Eh, whatever, as long as it was still fun.

“Stop! Fuck, stop! You're not fucking Tom!"

“Shut the fuck up already."

He heard a groan, then followed by what sounded like someone throwing up.

Kev… where are you…?

Octo stopped running and bent down, his breath running out. The city square felt full of life, with people were having a good time with one another. They were dancing, eating, or just enjoying the night. Yet it all was a contrast to what he felt right now.

Where was Kevin…? He had visited almost every place the wolf frequented, the campus gym, the Pinthole, Tom's past dorm, Max's dorm, but he was nowhere. He even went to the campus library just to see if Kevin gave up and finally looked for books.

He pulled his phone and gave him the umpteenth call that day. At least a text!

The line then beeped. “H-hey, dude…"

Fucking finally!

“Kev? Kev! Where the fuck are you?!"

The wolf coughed, and Octo grew even more concerned. “I'm… somewhere…"

“Don't say 'I'm somewhere'! Are you okay?"

Why did the wolf sound tired?! Why did his voice waver?! He sounded like he just had a fight!

“I'm… I dunno where I am…" he stopped. “Heh, I'm… fine, though, just… a bit tired. Don't worry 'bout me."

The panther let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding. “Kevin… are you okay?" He asked him softly.

“Yeah dude… m okay… really." Kevin coughed again. “Heh, you worry for me. That's sweet." He laughed softly. “Sorry though gotta go now bye." Kevin hung up the call.

Octo put the phone down, feeling relieved and worried at the same time. Kevin was out there… somewhere… but at least he was still alive…

It was a big city, and he was a lone panther.

Kev, whatever happens, I hope you're really fine.

Heh, just my luck.

Breathing heavily, Rodrigo closed his eyes. His body was weak, almost dead, maybe. One of his horns was broken. There were slash marks on his arms and torso with blood leaking from them. Maybe he really had forgotten just how much of a maniac was Red Wolf. It was in the name, after all.

Around him were the corpses of his once friends. They looked like corpses, though given his own condition he couldn't tell. Some might be still alive.

He groaned in pain as he looked up. That demonic creature's ear swivelled before running towards him. Rodrigo smiled, maybe one last time, as he invited him to come.

But he never came. Red Wolf stopped in his tracks, staring at him with his red eyes.

Sitting up a bit straighter, the bison groaned again. That seemed to make Red Wolf walk towards him again. “T-Tom…"

When he was right in front of him, Rodrigo knew he was just in front of Death and that this moment was his reckoning. The wolf's blood-covered body was also almost lifeless and the way he tilted his head looked unnerving. “T-Tom… please…" he managed to speak. “K-kill… me…"

He was ready. What good was he in the world, anyway?

“No."

What?!

“Red Wolf, kill me!" He roared. He wasn't giving up his ticket to Hell this easily. “You want it! Kill me now!"

“No. not like this." Red Wolf then walked away. In anger, Rodrigo tried to stand up, groaning and writhing as he reached for Death who kept walking away and said, “Not like this."

“G… go back here… please… g-give me… mercy…!" He closed his eyes, tears started to fall down his cheeks.

“P-please… I have… n-no one… to fall back to…"

Heh, not even Death accepted him.

Was it over?

Tom couldn't stare at anyone, but he heard nothing. Not even a groan.

He looked down—or tried to, at least—trying to pin down any noise, but there was nothing.

There was a groan.

His ear swivelled, and he dashed towards the source of the sound, ready to take down whoever that was. But… the groan sounded familiar.

He stopped running; there was that groan again, so instead he just walked towards it.

“T-Tom…"

The wolf stopped in front of the sound and tilted his head. It sounded like Rodrigo.

“T-Tom… please… k-kill me…"

It was Rodrigo.

He didn't do anything, just looked down with his head still tilted, trying to decipher the tone of the voice.

“No." he then said simply.

“Red Wolf, kill me!" Rodrigo roared. “You want it! Kill me now!"

“No. not like this." Then he walked away, ignoring the screams of protest from the bison. “Not like this."

Fuck yeah, it was so good. His arms didn't feel like they were still attached anymore. His chest felt tight. He was even sure that one wrong step and he could fall because of how hurt his legs felt.

“Max?"

He heard the dog gasping nearby, as if he had been crying. “Y-yeah?"

Over there. Tom walked to where the dog's voice came from. He sounded like he had been crying. And Lain was bitching on the back of his mind, ugh, shut up.

He took his hand out to the dog. “Let's go home…"

Those were his last words before he lost balance and fell to the ground. Someone screamed as he tried his best to instead lie on his back, but he couldn't tell whether he succeeded or not. He smiled; the stars would look beautiful tonight. Too bad he couldn't see them.

The last thing he knew, he was being lifted, then there was silence.