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.