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Wide mouth. Sharp teeth. Yellow, feral eyes. A dark mass of fur. Red, pungent blood dripping down into a small pool by its paws. A deep growl, then a roar.
That was all Dio’s mind could register before he lost consciousness.
~~~
When he came to, there was a voice waking him up. “Hey, hey, wake up, are you okay, please wake up, please be okay,” Dio heard. His vision was hazy, and the world spun when he tried to sit up. Pressing his knuckles to his temple, Dio cursed the pounding in his head.
“Oh, thank god,” the voice breathed out, all wobbly with concern and relief.
Dio cast his eyes to his left to find a naked boy.
Completely naked and not even bothering to cover anything up.
He looked to be around Dio’s age. He was rubbing away tears from his eyes and cheeks, sniffing and breathing heavily.
“…What?” Dio’s voice came out in a weak whisper.
The boy before him lowered his hands and raised his eyes to meet Dio’s. Azurite blue eyes—watery from tears he shed earlier—its black pupils blown wide. The black and blue seemed to mix together in Dio’s mind, and he remembered everything in a flash.
The sky, covered with a midnight blue; the moonlight strong and bright. Three adult men. Drunk, walking with a careless gait. Their money pouches dangling unprotected from their belts.
Dio, having a moment of stupid bravery, reached out to snag one of their pouches. And as he turned away silently to blend into the crowd, there was a yell: “Hey! That boy just stole something!”
Dio ran. With a surge of adrenaline, he ran and ran, knowing fully that three men were chasing after him with angry shouts.
He managed to get far, using his knowledge of alleyways and shortcuts that ran through the village. But the men were hot on his heels. If he had waited, been more cautious, he would have deduced that the three men were part of the Underground as well, and they weren’t as nearly drunk as Dio assumed.
Cornered at the faraway barn he ended up in, Dio spit and struggled at the men, kicking and lashing out. Of course, one twelve-year-old boy couldn’t do much against three grown men.
Down Dio went; coughing and sputtering at the harsh kicks to his stomach. He could barely hear the insults and threats from the men over the rush of blood in his ears.
Then, the scream—The growl—The shadow looming over him—
Dio snapped back to the present. Looking around, he realised he was still in the barn. The stench of manure assaulted his nose.
“Ah—Um—”
The boy was calling out to him. Dio regarded him with a stern stare.
“D-Do you… remember anything?” The boy asked meekly.
Who was this boy? “Remember anything”? Was he referring to before he passed out? How he got into the barn? The chase? The three men? The— The…
The what? The creature? The wolf? The monster which mysteriously left Dio alone but chased the other men away?
Dio took in the boy’s appearance a second time.
Naked. Probably twelve as well. Dark hair. Muddy feet. Edges of his fingernails black with dirt. How he was looking at Dio with concern when he was the one naked in the cold of the night.
Dio recalled a hushed conversation he overheard a day ago, while he was slavishly working at the bar. About how a neighbouring village just had their “cleaning out of the wolves”, and how “one of ‘em got away—a kid—slipped right through the crowd”. They spoke of silver and the full moon.
There could only be one thing they were referring to.
The monster that adults used to spook children into staying home at night. The creature that was the reason why every village had to have a “hunting squad”; why the mayor’s house was lined with silver; why every full moon, doors were locked tighter and windows were shut firmly.
Dio glanced above at the ceiling of the barn. Moonlight spilled through the tiny silts between the planks of wood.
But his eyes… Dio thought. They’re not yellow.
“A-Are you—” When the boy opened his mouth to ask something else, Dio saw it. The stain of red between his lips and his bottom teeth.
Before he could help himself, Dio whispered, “Werewolf.”
The reaction was instantaneous. The boy jolted away from Dio as though he got whipped in the face. With a gasp, he jumped back from his sitting position, pushing his legs up and landing on all fours. His back hunched down, shoulders tensed up, and his lips pulled down—a defensive position, poised for attack.
But his eyes were still blinking away the tears, and his body was shaking slightly in fear.
“Wait,” another word left Dio’s mouth without thought.
The boy’s breath hitched. “P-Please don’t hurt me! I-I…”
“Are you really a werewolf?” Dio asked in a harsh tone, clutching onto his stomach when a jolt of pain travelled up.
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone! I just— It looked like you were in danger, so I…” The boy’s voice trailed off. He lowered his face in guilt. “I-I just thought that I should help you…”
A monster, Dio thought shakily. A monster is in front of me. Half man, half wolf, bounties on their heads, stories passed from generation to generation, village to village. Stronger and faster than any human adult. Power and hunger of a hundred beasts.
The thoughts ran through Dio’s mind like a dozen flashbacks happening at once. Everything he ever knew about werewolves surfaced in his mind.
The boy must have been nervous from Dio’s silence, as he cried out: “Please don’t tell anyone!”
“Don’t tell anyone”…?
Dio slowly rose up on shaky feet. The boy stepped closer. His hands hovered over Dio’s, wanting to help support him but afraid of rejection.
“…Your name,” Dio spoke.
“H-Huh…?” The boy blinked twice in surprise. “J-Jonathan…”
“Jonathan. I will be back tomorrow.”
“Wha—What?” Jonathan gaped. “What do you mean—”
“I’m leaving now,” Dio hobbled over to the barn’s entrance. Jonathan followed after Dio’s every step, his hands still hovering over Dio.
When he reached the entrance, Dio turned to bark out a single line: “Don’t follow.”
And he left, trudging and making his way through the field and back to the village’s main center. With careful planning of his route, he should be able to make it back without crossing paths with any of the underground gangs. His father would most likely be drunk, making it would be easy to slip back home undetected. His wounds hurt like hell, but Dio had a spare medical kit he stashed away in his room. It would heal.
Behind, a pair of blue eyes tracked Dio’s body until he disappeared in the shadow of the night.
~~~
It was eleven in the night. His father was passed out from drinking again. No one paid any attention to Dio as he pulled the newsboy cap lower on his head, concealing his face in shadow. He slipped past the crowd, into the dark alleyways, then out into the fields, heading straight to the barn.
The huge doors of the barn creaked as he pushed them open and stepped in. Dio didn’t hear anything else. No shuffling of feet, no breathing.
If he were smart, he would’ve fled already, Dio thought.
After a minute of Dio simply standing in the middle of the barn, scanning the haystacks, a shuffling sound was heard. A head of dark hair poked out from behind the haystacks.
He’s still here, Dio thought in relief. Thank god for stupidity.
Wary eyes blinked at him, before widening in recognition.
“Y-You’re back…!” Jonathan exclaimed. He rose from the haystacks to get closer to Dio. “And you’re alone…?” He angled his body to glance at the entrance.
“I am alone.”
Jonathan regarded Dio with an expression of curiosity. Then, he smiled.
“What’s your name?” Jonathan asked. Dio thought that it was the first time he ever said anything without stammering.
Does he think he can trust me?
“I’m Dio,” Dio replied curtly. He grimaced at Jonathan’s appearance, still naked and smelling like mud. His body, however, was not as dirty as Dio would have expected.
“How is your…” Jonathan gestured awkwardly to Dio’s midsection. Dio was still hunched over a little. Breathing hurt, but it was nothing he hadn’t survived before.
“It’s fine,” Dio said. The blood stain on Jonathan’s lip was gone. “Did you clean yourself up?”
“Oh!” Jonathan raised his hand to cup his mouth. “There’s a tap with running water behind…”
So that explains the relatively clean body. Dio had yet to find out what happened to the three drunks last night. Did Jonathan simply scare them off? No, if he did, they would tell. They would tell others of the existence of a werewolf in the village.
I need him alive.
Dio settled down on one of the cleaner, more put-together haystack and asked, “What did you do to the men from last night?”
No reply from Jonathan. He was staring at Dio with dilated eyes, blurry at the edges, and mouth slightly agape.
“Oi!” Dio shook Jonathan.
“S-Sorry!” Jonathan stammered out an apology. “I-It’s just…” He rubbed and blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.
“You came back for me.”
Dio went still as Jonathan cheeks puffed up with a smile. It was a cherubic smile, all round and bright, unfitting for a werewolf. It looked pure and innocent. Something within Dio darkened.
“Did you hear what I said?” He snapped.
“A-Ah! Yes! The men…” Jonathan looked down at his feet. “One… got away…”
“And the other two?”
Jonathan froze up. His left fist clenched into a shaky ball and he bit down on his lower lip.
“O-over there…” He raised a finger from his right hand to point at a corner of the barn.
Eyes narrowing, Dio stood up and walked over to the corner to find what he was expecting.
Mangled messes of two bodies, buzzing with flies. One of the corpses had its guts spilled out. The other was missing an arm and a foot. It was a bloody mess, and the smell of decay assaulted Dio’s nose. A shiver went down Dio’s spine, and his heart raced. With a sharp intake of breath, Dio spun around to regard Jonathan, who was still cowering in his position like a puppy who knew he did something bad.
“You didn’t eat them.”
“I can’t—I don’t eat humans…” Jonathan mumbled softly.
“What can you eat then?”
“…Bread? Normal food, I guess…”
Dio glanced up at the ceiling. Strong moonlight was seeping through the roof. “Show me,” he said, locking eyes with Jonathan when he flipped his head up.
“Show—”
“Show me your werewolf form!” Dio stressed.
“No!” Jonathan yelped and jolted away from Dio. Shock was plastered on his face. “It’s dangerous!”
“Can you not control yourself?”
“I-I…” Jonathan breathed heavily. “I don’t know. When I change, everything feels… Bad and angry and scary…”
Dio frowned. “I’m going to help you,” he said.
Before Jonathan could react to his words, Dio continued: “Stay here. This barn’s been abandoned for years. Don’t let anyone see you. I’ll bring you clothes and some food.”
“D-Dio…” Jonathan’s eyes welled up.
“Remember,” Dio grabbed Jonathan’s wrist tightly. “Let no one see you. Stay hidden. The only one who knows about you is me.”
Jonathan nodded his head fervently. His eyes were wet with gratitude and awe.
If I’m going to do this… Dio thought. There’s something else I have to do first.
~~~
The next time he visited Jonathan was two nights later. He had to sneak out extra portions of his meal and gather some old rags. Silver was expensive, so only very specific houses had them. Fortunately, he found out that the daughter of the village gunsmith had a not-so-small crush on him, and used her to get what he needed.
The visit to the old medicine shop with the money he saved up took longer than he expected. He ended up looking over his shoulder multiple times, tense and nervous that the third drunkard would appear around the corner and scream about werewolves. The Underground was noisy as usual, though there was a small hint of an undercurrent of tension.
By the time Dio was done, it was close to two in the morning. He contemplated visiting Jonathan on the next night, but the image of Jonathan’s body lying unmoving in the barn, dead from starvation, flashed in his mind. No, he was not allowed to die before Dio was done.
When he reached the barn, he was pounced on by an overenthusiastic and jittery Jonathan.
“You didn’t come last night!” Jonathan cried out.
Dio tugged him off. “Check who is it before jumping on anyone who walks through the door!” He chided Jonathan.
“I knew it was you! I saw you through the front windows at the top of the barn!” Jonathan laughed. “You came back again!”
Silently, Dio thrusted a small ball of cloth towards Jonathan. Upon unwrapping the layers, Jonathan saw that it was a simple set of rags, encasing bread.
“Oh, Dio!” He gasped. “Thank you!”
Jonathan went for the food first, gobbling it down like… Well, like a hungry wolf. Then, he went to put on the clothes, and Dio held his breath.
“Ah! Ouch!” Jonathan yelped and shook the shirt off, rubbing at his upper arm. A piece of metal fell onto the floor with a clink. Dio quickly picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket.
“Sorry, must be that needle I forgot to take out,” Dio said.
“Ah, a needle? It stings…” Jonathan pouted and continued to rub at the spot on his arm.
“Let me see,” Dio placed his hands on Jonathan’s arm and leaned in to inspect. The area was turning red and swelling a little. It looked like the effect was fast.
A giggle came from Jonathan. Dio snapped his eyes up. “You’re too—close… Your breath tickles,” Jonathan said between smiles.
With a huff, Dio dropped his arm and gestured to the clothes for Jonathan to continue.
“Do you not feel cold?” He asked after Jonathan was done putting on the rags.
“Um… No…?” Jonathan shrugged. “I feel fine.”
Was that another characteristic of werewolves? It was strange that Jonathan was unnaturally warm for someone who had been sleeping in a barn, naked. Dio felt his warmth when he grasped his arm earlier on.
I guess werewolves are dogs.
“Oh, Dio!” Jonathan pulled Dio, unceremoniously, to the corner of the barn. It was the furthest end from where the corpses laid. Two stacks of hay were arranged in together like chairs. “Sit down!”
Dio grimaced. “No, I have to go,” he replied. I only came to ensure that you are alive.
“Already? But I thought we could talk…” Jonathan did his pouting again, this time accompanied with wide eyes, simulating a begging puppy. Dio coughed.
“Fine,” he conceded. The smile was back onto Jonathan’s face in a flash, his cheeks puffing up like red apples and his eyes curving like crescents. It’s a good opportunity to investigate werewolves, Dio told himself.
They sat on the two piles of haystacks, Dio grunting as he clutched his stomach to sit and Jonathan bouncing up and down.
“How old are you? Do you live in this village? Do you go to school?” Jonathan bombarded Dio with questions.
“How about you answer those for me first,” Dio countered.
“Okay!” Jonathan shifted closer. “I’m twelve, from the Peak Village, and I was home-schooled!”
“I always thought ‘Peak Village’ was a stupid name...” Dio muttered under his breath.
“It’s kinda silly, isn’t it?” Jonathan giggled. He looked at Dio expectantly with wide, blinking eyes. Dio sighed.
“I’m twelve too. Yes, I’m from Greenvale, and no, I dropped out of school.”
“Oh… Hey! We’re the same age! Anyway, Greenvale sounds better than Peak,” Jonathan stretched his legs and wiggled his toes. Oh, shoes. Dio didn’t get shoes for him. Getting shoes would be much harder… He should be fine without shoes. He wouldn’t die. Soles of the feet are much tougher than other parts of the skin, right? Clothes are just there to cover him up—
“So we’re friends, right?” Jonathan cut into his thoughts. He was giving Dio a small smile, a little uncertain, yet full of hope. It wasn’t a full moon that night anymore, but there was enough moonlight streaming from the window to give Jonathan’s hair a light shade of blue. It looked like a angelic halo.
“Yeah, we’re friends.” You’re my way out of here.
Beaming, Jonathan said, “You can call me Jojo! That’s what…” His smile faltered for a bit, but he maintained and stretched his smile wider for Dio. “It’s what my parents called me.”
“…Okay, Jojo.”
~~~
From then onwards, Dio revisited Jonathan every night. Partly because he had to make sure Jonathan didn’t run away, and partly because he was curious and wanted to find out more about werewolves. Jonathan divulged information easily to him; all enamored with the very thought of having Dio as a friend.
Jonathan constantly bugged Dio to share his experiences with “the world outside”. Dio resisted at first, but eventually gave in to Jonathan’s pure stubbornness. It was difficult for Dio to recount any of his memories that didn’t involve him getting abused by his father at the end of the day, or having to watch his mother get hit.
“So why were the three men beating you up that night?” Jonathan asked one night as he munched on a plain slice of bread.
Dio mulled over his reply. Over time, he had found Jonathan to be one of the rich, sheltered kids they had in the bigger villages, all oblivious and naïve. Though, Dio supposed, Jonathan’s interaction with the world had to be limited, with him being a werewolf and all.
Would Jonathan still trust Dio if he said he had to steal their money? Would Jonathan be repulsed? Or worse, would he take pity on Dio?
…Not that I give a rat’s ass about what he thinks about me. I just need him to stay.
“Dio?” Jonathan prompted Dio with a poke.
“I stole their money.”
Jonathan gasped softly and his eyes widened. He was silent for a while, before placing his bread on the haystack they were sitting on and leaning over to Dio.
You idiot, the bread will get contaminated with germs, Dio wanted to scold, but the warmth of Jonathan’s hands closed over his and he snapped his mouth shut.
“My father used to say that everyone has a reason for the things they do,” Jonathan said.
Dio wanted to knock his hands away, to scream at him “what do you know”, to throw a punch, but he looked into Jonathan’s eyes. It could have easily been clouds blocking the moonlight, or the position Jonathan was in—leaning over Dio—that made his eyes so dark and empty of the brilliance he usually had. Jonathan looked serious, with part of his face covered in shadow and his mouth set in a line, and the indignation Dio felt earlier was gone.
The intensity caused Dio to merely turn his head to the side, saying nothing of the way Jonathan’s hands squeezed harder on his.
~~~
Ten days later, when Dario Brando was suffocating in his bed, broken bottles of beer thrown around in his room, Dio spit on his face. For mother, he thought.
Then, he walked out of the house and into Greenvale’s town hall to report a werewolf seen at the abandoned barn near the outskirts of the village. “Take the back entrance to the barn,” he told them.
That night, Mayor Greenvale hosted a public lynching of a werewolf. The entire village was buzzing with excitement. A real werewolf, caught in their small little village! They had never experienced with incidents with the lycan beasts prior to this.
“I saw the squad earlier this afternoon; they were handling a young boy! Do you think the werewolf is a child?”
“I heard Peak Village had exposed some rich family to be werewolves! Absolutely terrifying!”
“Who reported it? I overheard the guards talking about some bounty money…”
Dio stood by the commanding officer of the hunting squad, eyes fixed on the podium with the guillotine. The village rarely had to use the guillotine, what with the Underground controlling most of the politics. Public execution wasn’t to the Underground’s liking.
This time, though, the old rickety podium had to be dragged out, and lamps were placed around the town center to the mayor’s own preference for flair. A special occasion, indeed.
The moon had been reduced into a thin crescent. As much as Dio hated to admit it, he was feeling tense. He was so close to freedom now. Fate had dropped Jonathan—a werewolf—right into his lap. His savings had been enough to buy the poison. Everything had aligned for him, built around his plan.
A murmur resonated within the crowd as the mayor stepped up onto the podium with two guards dragging a bound boy with them.
Jonathan.
He looked positively frightened. Confused and worried and fearful. His chest heaved up and down with the short breaths he was taking. His eyes were scanning the crowd frantically, no doubt looking for Dio.
What a fool, Dio mocked.
“Dear villagers!” Mayor Greenvale spread his arms to address the crowd. “Today, we have gathered to execute… a werewolf!”
Jonathan struggled against his binds. The crowd increased in their murmuring, throwing questionable looks towards the young boy’s feeble thrashes.
“This fact was brought to us by a brave young boy,” Mayor Greenvale continued. “For his bravery, he will be rightfully awarded the bounty of the wolf’s head!” He gestured to the side, at Dio, who crossed him arms and pressed his lips together tightly.
“D-Dio?” Jonathan’s called out in disbelief. “Dio! Dio!” He shouted, pulling harder at his restraints now. The wooden podium creaked to his movements.
“Dio! Help!”
“Now, we are sure that this boy is the werewolf who escaped from a nearby village, the Peak Village. And to prove his identity…” The mayor pulled on the pin attached to his left chest. It was the mark of a wolf-hunter, albeit one that the mayor had only wore due to his position and not for any wolf-hunting experience. A star-shaped badge made of pure silver.
Slowly and deliberately, he strolled over to Jonathan.
“Wha—Please—don’t—!” Jonathan’s pleading was cut off by the silver pressing into his left shoulder.
“AAAAGGGH!” A strangled scream tore from his throat. And then, another.
“DIO!” His entire body twisted and squirmed painfully in response to the silver, trying to edge away from the mayor’s badge but to no avail. Mayor Greenvale pressed on, harder, burning Jonathan’s skin. The screams continued as pain wrecked through Jonathan’s shoulder, travelling across his entire body. The pain was akin to setting his blood on fire and burning him inside out.
When Mayor Greenvale removed the badge, Jonathan’s entire body slumped forward, only remaining somewhat upright from the restraints the guards were holding onto. Dio could see his eyes screwed shut and the tears running down his cheeks.
The crowd went into a frenzied roar.
“A wolf! He’s a wolf, a real werewolf, the silver burnt him!”
“Wolf! Off with his head!”
“Monster! Monster! Monster!”
Jonathan was shaking now. Mayor Greenvale gave the guards a nod. They gathered Jonathan up and shifted him closer to the guillotine.
Dio’s jaw stiffened and he swallowed a lump forming in his throat. You were too stupid and naïve, Jojo, he thought to himself. People like you…
His mother’s face surfaced in his mind.
People like you should be spared from this world early.
“Wait!” A shout came out from the crowd. It would’ve been easily missed if it wasn’t for the fact that it came from a woman who wrestled through the barrier and was attempting to get closer to the podium.
“Wait! Wait!”
Dio scoffed. A werewolf empathizer, perhaps? She’s only going to get herself in trouble.
Except that the lady was stomping towards Dio with a determined expression. “He!” She pointed a finger at Dio. “He does not deserve the bounty! He colluded with the wolf!”
Dio sucked in a sharp breath, his shoulders tensing up and his folded hands gripping the sides of his ribs tightly. The mayor held his hand on to silence the crowd while the masses of villages craned their necks to see what commotion was happening.
“You lie,” he hissed.
“I saw him! He was helping the werewolf, giving him food and talking to it during the last week!” The woman pressed on.
“I was just gaining his trust so I could report him, you fool!”
“My brother,” she grabbed Dio by his collar, “he witnessed the wolf protecting you!”
Dio froze. A brother? Witness Jonathan protecting him?
The third damn drunk.
“He came home that night with a chunk of his arm missing. Said the wolf slaughtered two of his friends—there were two bodies at the barn, yes?” The lady looked towards the mayor.
Taken aback, the mayor merely nodded.
Another surge of yells came from the crowd. This time, they were directed towards Dio. The only thing worse than a werewolf is a human who helps one.
Dio snarled and shoved the woman’s grip away. “You have no proof. Am I not giving him to the authorities right now?” He reasoned.
But the damage was already done. Mayor Greenvale darted his squinty eyes left and right between his officers and Dio, already ready to believe the lady if it meant that he could keep the bounty. Howls from the villagers were demanding for Dio to be executed along Jonathan.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I shouldn’t have visited Jojo so much, should’ve gotten rid of this loose end, should’ve killed father earlier, should’ve—The noise swelled and rose and all Dio could hear was roaring in his ears. He glanced to see Jonathan still slumped in position, but shivering excessively. The mayor was barking orders to the guards and they were walking towards Dio, presumably to arrest him for being a wolf-empathiser, and his plans were going down the drain. Kill his father, get the bounty all for himself, leave the village, his freedom was so close and he thought of running, but the guards were surrounding him and the creaking sound was getting louder and louder and it sounded more like a crash now—
“Fuck!” The mayor shouted as he fell along with the podium. It caved in and dragged the guards and Jonathan down with it too. Shocked gasps were heard from the crowd.
A moment of silence gripped everyone.
Then, everyone saw. First, the rising of a thick hide of fur. Then, the fold of pointed ears, and the unmistakable head of a wolf. The dark shape slowly made itself known as it stepped out from the collapsed mess of the podium. A beast on all fours, tail swishing powerfully behind, mouth snarled and already bloody.
The crowd cried and ran, scattering in all directions, screaming their disbelief. Half of the guards ran away in fear while the other half fumbled with their guns.
Jonathan went for them first. In a blur of black, he leapt from his position to pounce on one of the armed guards. Shots were fired carelessly in fear, missing Jonathan completely. The hunting squad was of no use as well. They hadn’t actually battled a werewolf before, much less one this ferocious. They tried to rip out their silver badges and chuck it at Jonathan, but the badges bounced off his thick hide uselessly. With his strong jaw, Jonathan chomped down on limbs and threw them around, blood flying in every direction.
He tore apart all the men with ease, killing them efficiently without stopping. In the fight, one of the lamps was knocked over. Fire spread around the area, filling the cold night air with heat. No one bothered to put it out—everyone was running for their lives. It was chaotic.
In the middle of it all, Dio stood rooted to the ground, his eyes fixed on Jonathan’s form.
When all the guards were disposed, Jonathan swiveled around to face Dio, who remained his gaze. Jonathan stalked over to Dio, growling. It was the first time Dio got a good look at the wolf.
Wide mouth. Sharp teeth. Yellow, feral eyes. A dark mass of fur. Red, pungent blood dripping down into a trail by his feet. Reaching up to Dio’s height. A raw and red mess on Jonathan’s left shoulder. It was a small, star-shaped scar.
Dio’s heart was pounding, but his mind was clear. The noises faded into the background. All he could think of was how beautiful and majestic the beast before him was.
Jojo… This is Jojo.
“Beautiful,” Dio breathed out.
Jonathan snarled once before swiping at Dio. Pain tore through Dio’s left cheek as he flew backwards. He barely registered it.
His head knocked against something as he landed, sending him into a dizzy spell. Jonathan ran up to him, seemingly not done with Dio. The wolf’s body was hovering over Dio’s now; the drops of blood from his mouth landing on Dio’s neck.
Dio laughed once, a hollow laugh, before darkness took over his consciousness.
~~~
In a few days’ time, the incident at Greenvale would be known as one of the devastating cases of werewolf attacks.
The village would never recover from it. The villagers would move out and its population would cease to exist in a year’s time. It would become a grave story of single wolf terrorizing a small village, slaughtering more than two dozen people. The fact that it occurred during a crescent moon would be swept under the rug and kept as a hushed secret. The wolf responsible would be marked as being perished in the fight and no one would even remember Dio’s name after what happened.
But in just hours after the bloody incident, a wolf drags the body of a blond boy into the woods. It whines and licks on the gash on the boy’s left jawline and nuzzles into the boy’s chest, hoping he would wake up.