The air was thick with tension as night fell over Woodhaven. The moon hung full and bright in the sky, casting an eerie silver light across the village. It was the kind of night that seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself was waiting for something to happen.
John Callahan stood on the porch of his farmhouse, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the distant tree line. The events of the past few days had left the village on edge, and no one felt safe, not even in their own homes. The creature they had encountered was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, and the sense of impending doom was almost suffocating.
Inside, Mary was putting Daniel to bed, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were trying to shield him from the fear that had gripped the village. John could hear her humming softly, a lullaby that had soothed Daniel to sleep ever since he was a baby. The sound brought a brief moment of comfort, but it was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the weight of the night.
John exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cool night air. He had been on edge since the encounter with the creature, his mind racing with questions and doubts. What was it? Why was it here? And, most importantly, how could they stop it?
He had been through difficult times before—bad harvests, harsh winters, sickness—but this was different. This wasn't something that could be fought with hard work or determination. This was something primal, something ancient, and it terrified him in a way he had never experienced before.
As he stood there, lost in thought, Mary stepped out onto the porch, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with concern.
"John, come inside," she urged, her voice soft but insistent. "There's nothing you can do out here."
He shook his head, his gaze never leaving the forest. "I just want to make sure everything's quiet. I don't trust this night."
Mary sighed, stepping closer to him, her hand finding his. "I don't like it either, but standing out here in the cold won't change anything. Please, come inside. Daniel's asleep, and I'd feel better if we were all together."
John hesitated, torn between his need to keep watch and his desire to be with his family. Finally, he nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "Alright. I'll come in."
They turned to go inside, but just as they reached the door, a sound stopped them in their tracks—a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. John froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he tightened his grip on his rifle.
"Did you hear that?" Mary whispered, her voice trembling.
John nodded, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Get inside. Now."
Mary didn't argue. She rushed into the house, her footsteps barely audible over the pounding of John's heart. He followed her inside, shutting the door behind him and bolting it securely.
"Stay with Daniel," he instructed, his voice low and urgent. "Don't leave his side, no matter what you hear. Do you understand?"
Mary nodded, her face pale with fear. She disappeared into Daniel's room, closing the door behind her. John stood in the small living room, his senses on high alert. The growl had been unlike anything he had ever heard—deep, menacing, and filled with a hunger that sent a chill down his spine.
For a moment, the house was silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth. But then, the growl came again, louder this time, and it was followed by another, and another, until the air was filled with the terrifying chorus of predatory snarls.
John's blood ran cold. There was more than one. There were many.
He moved quickly to the window, peering out into the night. At first, he saw nothing—just the moonlit fields and the dark silhouette of the forest beyond. But then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw them—shadows moving through the trees, swift and silent, their forms barely visible against the backdrop of the night.
The creatures were coming.
John's heart raced as he realized the extent of the danger they were in. He had prepared for the possibility of an attack, but the sheer number of creatures he could now see moving toward the village was beyond anything he had imagined. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and there was no time to rally the villagers.
He had to protect his family.
John rushed to the door, locking it securely before moving to the windows, pulling the shutters closed and barring them. His hands were shaking, but his mind was focused, driven by the primal instinct to protect those he loved.
"Mary!" he called, his voice filled with urgency. "Stay with Daniel! Don't come out, no matter what you hear!"
He could hear the fear in her voice as she responded, "John, what's happening?"
"There's no time to explain," he replied, his voice tight with tension. "Just stay in the room and don't open the door unless it's me. Do you understand?"
There was a pause, and then she answered, her voice trembling, "Yes. Please, John, be careful."
He didn't respond. He couldn't. The weight of what was coming was too heavy, and he couldn't afford to let fear take hold. He had to be strong, for Mary, for Daniel, for the village.
John moved back to the living room, his rifle at the ready, his eyes fixed on the door. The growls were getting closer, the sound of claws scraping against wood and stone filling the air. The creatures were circling the house, testing the defenses, searching for a way in.
And then, with a deafening crash, they attacked.
The front door shuddered under the force of the impact, the wood splintering as something massive slammed into it. John braced himself, his heart pounding as he aimed his rifle at the door, ready to fire the moment it gave way.
Another crash, and the door buckled further, the sound of snarling and growling filling the air. John could hear them now, right outside, their breath hot and heavy, their hunger palpable.
The door wouldn't hold much longer.
John took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He had faced danger before, but this was different—this was a fight for survival, a battle against creatures of unimaginable strength and ferocity. But he couldn't afford to think about that now. All that mattered was protecting his family.
With a final, thunderous crash, the door gave way, splintering into pieces as the creatures burst into the house. John fired his rifle, the shot echoing through the small space as he aimed for the first creature to cross the threshold.
The bullet struck home, hitting the creature in its chest, but it barely slowed down. It was massive, easily twice the size of a man, its body covered in thick, matted fur, its eyes glowing with a malevolent intelligence. It snarled, baring its sharp, bloodstained teeth as it lunged at him.
John fired again, but the creature was too fast. It swiped at him with a massive clawed hand, knocking the rifle from his grip and sending him crashing to the floor. Pain shot through his body as he struggled to get up, but the creature was on him before he could move.
It pinned him to the ground, its weight crushing him as it snarled in his face. John could feel its hot breath on his skin, the stench of blood and decay almost overwhelming. He fought desperately, trying to free himself, but the creature was too strong.
As it reared back, preparing to strike, John caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye—another creature, just as massive, just as terrifying, moving toward the hallway where Mary and Daniel were hiding.
"No!" John screamed, his voice hoarse with desperation. He kicked out with all his strength, managing to throw the creature off balance just enough to free himself. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain that lanced through his body as he reached for the rifle.
But it was too late.
The creature was already at the door, its massive claws tearing through the wood as it forced its way into the room. John could hear Mary's terrified screams, Daniel's cries of fear, and it sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins.
He had to stop it. He had to save them.
John fired at the creature, but the shot went wide, missing its mark. The creature barely noticed, its focus entirely on the door it was tearing apart. John rushed forward, his mind racing for a plan, but he was tackled from behind by the first creature, its claws sinking into his flesh as it dragged him to the ground.
The pain was blinding, searing through his body as the creature's claws tore into him. John fought with everything he had, but the creature was too strong, too fast. It slammed him into the floor, its jaws snapping dangerously close to his throat.
John could hear Mary screaming, could hear Daniel crying out for him, but he was powerless to help. The creature was relentless, its weight crushing him, its claws rending his flesh. Blood filled his mouth as he struggled to breathe, his vision blurring as the darkness closed in.
And then, just as he thought it was over, the creature was suddenly wrenched off of him, thrown across the room with a force that shook the entire house. John gasped for air, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of what was happening.
Through the haze of pain and blood, he saw it—a massive figure, even larger than the creatures that had attacked him, standing in the center of the room. Its fur was dark, almost black, and its eyes glowed with a fierce, predatory light. This was no ordinary creature. This was something else entirely. This was the Lycan King.
The Lycan King snarled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very walls of the house. The other creatures cowered before it, their snarls turning to whimpers as they backed away, their ferocity replaced by fear.
John tried to move, tried to crawl toward the hallway where Mary and Daniel were hiding, but his body refused to obey. The pain was too much, the blood loss too severe. He could only watch in horror as the Lycan King turned its attention to the door where his family was hiding.
"No…" John whispered, his voice barely audible, his strength fading.
The Lycan King moved toward the door with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the fear it was causing. It reached out with one massive clawed hand and tore the door from its hinges as if it were made of paper.
John heard Mary scream, a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He saw her, clutching Daniel to her chest, her eyes wide with terror as she backed away from the monstrous figure now towering over them.
"Please," she begged, her voice trembling. "Please, don't hurt him."
The Lycan King tilted its head, as if considering her words. But there was no mercy in its eyes, no compassion, only the cold, ruthless hunger of a predator.
It reached down, its claws wrapping around Mary with terrifying ease. She screamed, struggling against its grip, but it was futile. The Lycan King lifted her as if she weighed nothing, its eyes filled with a dark, malevolent satisfaction.
"Daniel!" John screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. "Run, Daniel! Run!"
But the boy was frozen in place, his eyes wide with fear, unable to move. He looked at his father, his face pale, his small body trembling, and in that moment, John saw the end.
The Lycan King's eyes flicked to Daniel, and in one swift movement, it lashed out with its free hand. John could only watch, helpless, as the creature's claws tore through his son, ending his life in an instant.
"No!" John's scream was filled with a grief that tore through him like a knife. He tried to get up, tried to reach his son, but his body refused to obey. He could only watch as Daniel's lifeless body crumpled to the floor, his blood pooling around him.
The Lycan King turned away from the boy's body, its attention now fully on Mary. She screamed again, a desperate, heart-wrenching sound, but the creature ignored her pleas. It turned and, with a powerful leap, burst through the wall of the house, carrying her into the night.
John lay there, his body broken, his mind numb with grief and shock. The other creatures followed their king, disappearing into the darkness, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.
The house was silent now, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the distant howls of the creatures as they retreated into the forest. John could barely comprehend what had just happened. His son was dead. His wife was gone. And he was powerless to stop it.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, John finally found the strength to move. He crawled toward Daniel's body, his hands shaking, his vision blurred by tears. He gathered his son into his arms, cradling the lifeless body against his chest as sobs wracked his body.
He had failed. He had failed to protect his family, failed to keep them safe. And now, they were gone.
The grief was overwhelming, a pain so deep, so all-consuming, that it left him gasping for breath. But beneath the grief, beneath the sorrow and the guilt, there was something else—something dark and burning.
Revenge.
John's hands tightened around Daniel's body, his tears mingling with the blood that stained his skin. The creatures had taken everything from him, and they would pay. He would make them pay.
The Lycan King had taken his wife, had killed his son, had destroyed his life. And now, it was his turn to destroy them.
As the sun rose over the ruins of his home, John Callahan made a vow. He would find the creatures that had done this. He would find the Lycan King. And he would kill them all.
No matter the cost. No matter what it took.
He would have his revenge.