Paranormal | Fiction

Just One Mistake

One slip-up, and any hunt might be your last.

[Okay yeah, it’s canon now. That being said, this is a lot darker than most entries in this series so far. Someone’s gonna die.]

One mistake. That’s what Lucy’d told him. One mistake, one little slip-up, and any hunt might be your last. Didn’t matter how good at this job you were, or how easily-exploitable a monster’s weaknesses were, at the end of the day you were human. A beast could snap you like a twig if it wanted.

Or gut you like a fish, in this case.

Niall’s aim had been a bit off — of all the times for it to be— and a silver bullet in the shoulder wasn’t going to kill a werewolf, at least not straight away. Silver was silver, and it’d eat away at the monster over time if not removed. Unfortunately for him, all it did in the meantime was make it angry.

He’d tried to take another shot but the beast had lunged, knocking him to the dirt. The first swipe had raked his face, sending blinding pain through his left eye. After that it was a flurry of teeth and claws, tearing at his arms when he’d tried to protect his face from further damage. He couldn’t see for all the blood, couldn’t get away from the angry monster.

Its teeth clamped around his throat, but that paled in comparison to the pain in his abdomen when its claws sunk in. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. Hard to get a good, full-throated scream going when a ten-foot-tall murder machine was crushing your lungs.

There was a bright flash followed by a yelp, then a roar as the beast jumped off of him, probably taking a few chunks with it. That’s right, Rosie had been with the two of them today. Must have been one of her spells.

Slowly and painfully Niall opened his eyes, only to find that he couldn’t see out of the left one at all. It probably wasn’t even there anymore.

He would have been upset about the disfiguring scars he’d have for the rest of his life if he didn’t suspect the rest of his life wouldn’t be all that long. While he couldn’t lift his head to see the wounds the monster had given him, he knew they were terrible. He’d put his hand to his stomach, only for it to come away covered in blood.

Also he was sure that some of his innards weren’t exactly innards anymore.

One mistake. Just one, and it had cost him everything.

He’d always been okay before. Maybe a few close calls — including getting cursed once, thank goodness Rosie knew how to fix him — but always alive and in one piece at the end of the night. He didn’t think it would be any different tonight, but he’d been proven horribly wrong.

God, he didn’t want to die. Living for twenty-one years wasn’t a good run unless you were a cat.

The last thing he saw was Lucy fling herself on top of the wolf, one arm hooked around it’s neck, a gleaming blade clutched in her other hand. The wound in its shoulder had begun to smolder, slowing it down and causing it pain. Good. At least he’d have some part in the end of this thing.

Niall wished he could stick around long enough to see her finish it off, but that wasn’t happening. Keeping his eye open was getting too hard to do. Breathing was even worse. That thing had really done a number on his chest and throat. Actually, on all of him.

She’d kill it. He knew she would. No way it’d get the better of her.

Niall’s eye slid shut, and he lay still.

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