Hello! this is my weekly serial, written raw as a writing exercise.
You can find the first post in the series here.
Last week’s post is here.
Instinctively, I rolled away from the snarling, screaming ball of white flame that had engulfed Ulfgorr. Gaining my feet I turned to face him, only to find the flaming werewolf was still chasing me. His lust for blood over-ruled pain or fear of death, and he swung a blazing claw at me. I could smell the fat of his flesh cooking and yet somehow he still came at me. I kept backing away, as much from the intensity of the blazing white heat than desire to avoid those scything talons.
Ulfgorr screamed and lunged as the fire consumed his fur. His fiery jaws looked like something from a children’s tale. I jumped back and smashed my axe into his nose. He roared and lunged again, forcing me to leap over a cart, which he then upended.
When I recovered and looked over the smoldering cart, Ulfgorr was racing away, howling. I heart the twang of Murith’s arbalest and watched a bolt leapt between them like a racing razorhawk. It hit Ulfgorr square in the back, and he stumbled, but did not fall.
The fire continued to consume the werewolf’s flesh, and I ran after him. He kept moving despite the blaze, smashing carts and doors aside like a drunken titan, and I realized that he was headed for the water.
Even on fire, he was too fast for me to catch. I swore as he half-jumped, half-fell into the water and rushed to the edge of the dock. I could see ripples, but the waters of Burning Hill are far too polluted to see below the surface.
Mumbling about fate, I made my way back to Murith, who was bandaging her leg while taking shelter in a cart. Workers were eyeing us from the other buildings, wondering at the commotion.
“How is it?”
“I’ll live,” said Murith. “Is it dead?”
“Until I see a body, I’m going to assume the bastard is still alive. What did you hit him with?”
“Something that Git gave me,” answered Murith. “It was during the Cinder incident. He said the heat and light was like the sun. I figured it would work. Is it true that only silver can kill a werewolf, then?”
“I have no idea what can kill Ulfgorr. He’s twiceborn, like me, and also a werewolf, but not like other werewolves among my people. I suspect dismemberment and decapitation would do the trick though. If he is alive, he won’t be back until he heals though.”
“How wonderfully reassuring.”
“They don’t call me Joyfang. Can you walk?”
“Get me a keg.”