Hours later, Ethan blearily blinked his eyes. Why am I awake? It’s still the middle of the night… he thought groggily. His mind struggled to piece together the chaos of the day’s events as he slowly recalled where he was.

  He glanced at his wristwatch. The glowing read 5:27 AM. The fog of sleep evaporated when he heard something scrape outside his tent. Something massive quietly padded into his campground, casting a looming shadow on the wall of his tent.

  Not daring even to breathe, he strained to hear over the pounding of his heart. The soft thud of paws against the ground sent chills racing down his spine. Adrenaline surged, electrifying his limbs, as he imagined the creature lurking just beyond the thin fabric.

  A low growl rumbled through the night, deep and menacing. Ethan’s breath hitched as he realized he was face-to-face with another of the wolf monsters.

  Ethan didn’t like his odds against the beast, so he lay still, slowly reaching for his garden hoe. His high-powered rifle was right next to the hoe, but the hoe calmed him in a way the gun couldn’t.

  Outside, the sound of the beast rummaging through his trailer echoed through the silent woods. The burbling creek was the only other sound just beyond the edge of his camp. Ethan heard the wolf sniff at the wet remains of his fire before it padded toward his tent.

  His heart thumped almost painfully, and his hand tightened on the hoe. The fear that threatened to suffocate him moments before morphed into simmering anger. An anger banked within him like hot coals — waiting to be stoked to a raging inferno.

  I’ll gouge out its eyes. I’ll lop off its head. I’ll tear it apart with my teeth if I have to, he thought viciously as the creature approached. The garden hoe groaned in protest at his crushing, white-knuckle grip.

  The sounds of the monster reached the flap of his tent, where they paused for an interminable moment. The silence stretched on. Ethan ground his teeth, clenching so tight they audibly creaked.

  Slowly, the sounds of the wolf monster moved to the right, circling his tent. The night became still once again as the creature moved off into the woods. Ethan’s hammering heart was slow to calm even though the danger had apparently passed.

  What is wrong with me? he thought. The bloodlust that had surged up within him had no outlet and was turning into something else — shame. He had always thought of himself as a copy of his mother, kind and forgiving, but this side of him was something dark. Something that hadn’t come from her.

  He grimaced as he identified why it bothered him so much. The lack of control. He was reminding himself of his father. It hit him like a blow to the stomach as he made the connection. His father was everything he hated most, and this awful world was turning him into a monster worse than the ones he killed. The sickening feeling caused him to grimace.

  Ethan pushed those thoughts and feelings away as he cautiously poked his head out of the tent. The tracks in the dirt were the only sign the monster had been there. Only a few strewn items indicated his trailer had been rummaged through.

  He cautiously stood with his hoe at the ready as he quietly surveyed the forest in the direction the beast had gone. The silent forest did nothing to calm him. In fact, it gave him the sensation that anything could be lurking in its shadowy depths.

  Eager to get away from the monster, he swiftly broke camp, moving quickly while trying to produce as little noise as possible. The monster’s rummaging had disturbed Joel, leaving him slightly rumpled. Ethan took a moment to straighten him out and water him before guiding his bike back up the incline to the road.

  Looking furtively in both directions, he mounted his bike and pedaled uphill. The fresh battery he’d popped into the bike propelled him up the hill as he pedaled to escape the wolf monster as fast as possible.

  If he recalled correctly, he was near the peak and soon could coast down the other side of the canyon. Ahead of him, the sun peaked through the mountains — and with it, his hopes rose that he’d escape unscathed.

  Cresting the hill, he slowed down to look out over the valley before him. The picturesque scene featured a large, sweeping valley, bisected by a winding river. Farms dotted the land, and various crops he couldn’t identify filled their fields. He’d like to have stopped and surveyed the area for a potential spot to hole up, but he didn’t dare stop.

  The bike picked up speed as he started his descent, and the anxiety that had gripped his heart lessened. A hearty, borderline hysterical laugh burst from him as he sped away from danger.

  All that worrying for nothin’ he thought as the wind blew his hair back.

  It was at that moment that Ethan heard a distorted snarl behind him.

  Ethan whipped his head around and almost crashed his bike at what he saw there — a massive, black hellhound monster bared its razor-sharp teeth at him and let out a piercing howl. With growing dread, two smaller wolf monsters flanked the leader. Six sets of milky white eyes fixed on him as their snarls matched their leader’s. They lunged as one to pursue him.

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  Ethan focused forward, pushing his bike down the hill at a reckless speed, the forest on either side flying by in a blur of green and brown. He had no plan, no trick up his sleeve as he pedaled frantically. His only thought was to get away from these monsters.

  His eyes bulged when he glanced backward. The two smaller wolves were gaining on him, even at the incredible speed at which he was flying down the mountain. Awkwardly, he drew his handgun, careful not to disrupt the careful balance required to maintain the bike steady at the reckless speed.

  One of the snarling beasts drew close, and Ethan squeezed off three shots in quick succession — aiming in the general direction of his foe. A yip of pain pierced the air, and when he looked back, he saw one wolf pulling back and limping in pain.

  A satisfied snarl ripped from him at the minor victory as he turned his eyes back forward. His triumph was short-lived as he realized the road ahead made a sudden and sharp curve hard to the right. Dropping his gun in panic, he scrambled to slam on the brakes, desperately trying to make the turn, tires screaming against the asphalt.

  The traffic barrier loomed large in his vision as his bike sped toward it, the trailer bounced wildly behind him. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Ethan hit the barrier at tremendous speed, and he was suddenly airborne as the world spun around him at an alarming velocity.

  The world was a blur as he flipped through the air, the wind roaring in his ears, until he slammed to the earth. He tumbled end over end, feeling an agonizing crack in his ribs as he slid to a stop in the dirt. The contents of his trailer rained down around him, peppering the surrounding area.

  Ethan’s world was pain. He couldn’t care about his destroyed supplies, his pet plant Joel, or even the wolves bearing down on him. His agony was all-consuming as his lungs screamed for air that wouldn’t come.

  Raising a trembling hand, he noticed his pinky finger was bent at an odd angle on his right hand, and he couldn’t even feel his left arm from the shoulder down.

  His breath gradually returned in short, shallow gasps that only made him aware of the many scrapes and lacerations he had sustained. Each inhale and exhale was a croaking rattle that sent spikes of pain shooting through his ribs. Ethan had never broken a rib, but there was no mistaking the feeling.

  “Fucking owww,” he half said, half cried.

  Through his agony, his tear-filled eyes took in the three shadowy hounds standing on the road above him. The largest stood in the middle and looked down at him with glittering eyes. He took satisfaction in the fact that the monster he’d winged with his wild pistol appeared to be in bad shape, bleeding profusely from a wound in its side. A bloody grimace played across his lips as he looked up at his death.

  Not without a fight, Ethan thought as he used his one good arm to unsling his lever-action rifle. The sudden movement ended the standoff, and the unhurt wolf leapt toward him, while the wounded one struggled beneath the barrier, yelping in pain. Their leader stood back, willing to let the lesser hellhounds go first.

  Ethan grit his teeth against the pain as he bent a knee and propped the rifle on it, training the red dot sight on the uninjured monster that was now only steps away. It growled menacingly as it loped toward him, glittering teeth bared.

  Blam! The rifle bucked and dropped from Ethan’s weak hand, but his shot connected with the hellhound’s head, and it slid to a stop mere feet from him — motionless. A red orb swirled into the air before shooting into him. A fresh burst of agony ripped through Ethan as his ribs popped back into place and his shoulder painfully undid the damage .

  He could now breathe more easily, but the intensity of the rapid healing stunned him, and his multiple minor wounds were still pounding into his senses. Ethan tried to pump the lever of his rifle to chamber another round, but his crooked fingers wouldn’t cooperate as the other monster staggered toward him, its drooling mouth gaping.

  Ethan reached back to pull himself away, and his fingers brushed against rough wood. He instinctively knew what it was, and his grip tightened around it. The wolf monster half-jumped, half-fell toward him, and he swung his garden hoe with all his might, intercepting the beast’s lunge mid-flight.

  A satisfying crunch announced the already injured creature's demise, followed by another orb shooting into his chest, painfully snapping his dislocated fingers back into their proper position. Ethan rolled over with a groan and stood on wobbly legs, taking a step forward.

  “That’s… two… down,” he panted. “Just-”

  Wham! For the second time in as many minutes, Ethan found himself flying through the air. He slammed into a boulder, his left arm making a sickening crunch. His head smacked hard, opening an ugly gash that left him dizzy. He slumped to the ground in a crumpled heap, barely holding onto consciousness.

  Through his blurred vision, Ethan could see the massive hellhound stalking toward him at an unhurried, inexorable pace. It stepped over the bodies of its fellows without concern, its milky white eyes fixed unblinkingly on him.

  As the monster came to stand over Ethan, he feebly swung his garden hoe at its head in a weak overhand arc. The demon deftly caught the hoe in its teeth and yanked it out of his hands, the motion sending him to the ground in a puff of dirt. He could only stare up helplessly as the beast flexed its jaws and snapped his favorite weapon in half.

  Ethan watched numbly as the two halves dropped to the ground in front of him. His gaze wandered up the legs and muscled chest of the hellhound, taking in its merciless form towering over him. A strange calm swept over him. He’d done his best. He’d tried even when it seemed hopeless, but it just wasn’t good enough.

  The small part of him that still resisted forced him to scrabble for rock in the dirt. He weakly threw it up at the monster, where it bounced harmlessly off its thick skin. The demon lowered its head slowly toward him, opening its maw and displaying dozens of glistening razor-like teeth.

  Ethan wished he could close his eyes as his death drew close, but he could only stare in transfixed horror.

  Sorry, Mom, he thought as he lay unable to move his broken body. I never got around to making something of myself.

  The next instant was a chaotic flash of movement and noise that Ethan’s addled mind couldn’t process. There were several loud bangs, and the hellhound kicked out, slamming into his injured arm and sending him tumbling across the ground. The pain was excruciating, and his head was bleeding profusely.

  Ethan could only lie there, his mind fading and body broken. As consciousness drained from him, the last sensation he took in was the sound of labored breathing as something cast a shadow over him.