Chapter 3


Jon heard Felicia gasp first, before he felt something painfully burrow into his bottom ribs.

Releasing each other, they both stared in horror at their respective bullet wound; a high-caliber 5.56mm round had entered Felicia's back, exiting just below her left breast. That very same bullet still had enough power to punch straight into Jon's chest, finally coming to a stop in his bottom ribs. As they stared, the bullet slowly started to work it's way out of Jon's wound…

"Jon…" Felicia gasped.

Instinctively, Jon grabbed his love and hurled himself across the bar counter, barely dodging the rest of the bullets that flew through the windows, taking shelter as the deadly hail of lead shredded the bar.

The concrete walls were soon riddled with bullet holes, the enclosed area amplifying the sounds of destruction. Wood splintered and cracked, glasses exploded and cheap plaster walls cracked and flaked. The teenagers, too drunk to comprehend the danger, stared in amazement as the hail of bullets tore up their surroundings.

"Dudesss…" One of them murmured, "…waz'haaaappp…"

By then, Jon, with Felicia cradled in his arms, made his escape through the back door, barreling his way through a shocked bartender, who had returned to check on his shop. Jon was only able to catch a "wot de…" before the wind ripped away sounds of the world, running like a bat (or in this case, wolf) out of hell. With Felicia still in his arms, Jon rapidly changed to his werewolf form on the go. Bluish-silver fur with white highlights sprouted on his body, a tail poking through a hole in his pants, his shirt ripping apart, his bones cracked and reformed as his legs transformed into hind legs, his face stretching into a muzzle…

All the while, Jon never took his eyes away from Felicia, as she weakly squirmed in pain from being carried. Blood was dripping down his growing hands, matting some of her hair into clumps; her usually pristine white fur was soiled with blood. Felicia coughed violently, splattering a few drops of blood on Jon's face, murmuring intelligible words. As he stared, he could felt fear digging a pit in his stomach, followed by a growing sense of helplessness as he watched her life-blood slipping through his fingers…

No, not like this…

Grief demanded he sink down to his knees, to cry his heart out in mourning as Felicia bled out.

Anger, on the other hand, dictated he start hunting down the f**king bastard who dared wound Felicia, and rip his/their still-beating heart out with his fangs.

His human side however, calmly suggested he find Felicia medical help immediately, most preferably at a hospital.

Jon wisely chose the humanity.

Enveloping himself in his beast cannon attack, expanding the internal field to cover Felicia, he shot off like a comet in the night, heading deeper into the city…


600m away…

"F##, F#$, F#$!" Profanities spewed from the darkhunter's mouth as he franticly reloaded his sniper rifle.

"Nice going Bob." His buddy said dryly, staring at the disappearing wolf/comet as it raced deeper into the city. "Now we're out of the competition."

"Shut up and help!" Bob shot back, packing up his equipment. "We can still complete the hit before the other teams. We just gotta hurry…"

Bob was suddenly cut off by a large flapping sound, as what seemed like 2 angels flew overhead, following the wolf "comet".

"NOOO! They're my kills!" Bob yelled, redoubling his efforts…


Everything took a bluish-white blur for Jon, as he sped through the buildings of New York in his "beast cannon".

He ignored the crowds of people, who had stopped to stare/gasp in awe below him. All that mattered, as of now, was getting to the hospital as quick as he can. Felicia had long since lost consciousness, her limp body in Jon's arms scaring him more than anything in the world. Every muscle in his body was tensed with effort, all his mental concentration devoted to maintaining his skill. Jon pushed aside all unnecessary thoughts, his training pushing everything else aside in an all out effort to save Felicia.

However, a single thought still stuck…

Who would want to attack us and why?

There could only be one answer to that.

B.B. Hood

But, even that was didn't add up. For all the times B.B. had attacked Jon, she had never used such tactics. If she had wanted to kill them both, she'd just strut into the bar, guns blazing. Furthermore, Jon would had already sensed the evil resonating from her, being the devil-child she was…

In fact, I think I can smell…

He looked over his shoulder, growling in anger. Closing on him fast, were 2 unknown winged individuals dressed as if they were roman centurion cos-players. Decked in the legionary armor, wielding gimmicky-looking swords, they shot straight towards Jon with murderous intent.

In no time at all, they were on either side of Jon.

"What do you want from us?" Jon roared.

"Die, insolent whelp!" The one on his right hissed, giving Jon a painful slash on the shoulder. The sword, it seemed, was able to dispel Jon's energy field. "We shall mount your heads on our wall, and the Tournament shall be ours to win!"

"What f**king tournament?" Jon howled, just as the one on his left sliced at Jon's side. With Felicia in his arms, the werewolf was unable to defend himself.

"The one where you both are prey, and we are your end!"

"NOT TODAY!" Jon yelled, abruptly cancelling his attack. With no energy to propel him forward, Jon fell straight down.

With G-forces rippling his cheeks, causing Felicia's hair to billow out in front of him, Jon reached into his back pocket…

"FOOLS! NONE SHALL ESCAPE OUR WRATH!" The twins boomed, tucking their wings together as they followed Jon into a free-fall. Sword points thrust in front, they rapidly descended upon the duo, intent on spearing the duo before they hit the ground…

They were rather close when they finally realized what Jon was holding in one hand.

His nunchuks.

With a roar, a massive surge of energy in the shape of a dragon's head engulfed the duo, blasting them backwards as they screamed in pain.

Satisfied with the result, Jon resumed the beast cannon to end his free fall 7 stories high…

Only to have somebody slam into him, ramming him and Felicia into a building wall hard enough to crack granite, sending his nunchuks flying.

"YOUR HEADS ARE MINE FREAKS!" The newcomer screamed, keeping his balance on a circular hover-board. Taller and bulkier than Talbain, the new threat had his quarry pinned. Heavily armored, with a suit of polished metal, the man had an incredibly strong grip.

A massive, gauntlet hand mashed Jon's face against the wall, holding the struggling werewolf in place. His arms occupied with Felicia, Jon was rather outmatched. Instinctively, he lashed out with his feet, digging them into his attacker's belly. However, it was useless against the hunter's polished armor, as the claws on his feet skidded right off. Raising a battle-axe the size of tarnation, the hunter brought it up ready to strike.

Snarling, Jon used all his might to knee the man in the crotch.

He was only rewarded with laughter.

"Resist as you might," The hunter bellowed, "but none shall…"

Whatever words he wanted to say were abruptly cut off, when a large, fury paw gripped his face, right under the hood.

"Wha-AAAAARRRRRGGGHHH!" The hunter screamed, as Felicia racked her claws down on his face with deliberate slowness. Releasing his hold on his axe and Jon, the hunter backed off, clutching his ruined face, spinning crazily away on his hoverboard.

Finally getting one hand free, Jon dug his nails into the granite as he made his way down.

"Took you long enough." Jon said, as he smiled down at his now conscious love. Suddenly, just staring into her eyes once more made the cuts and bruises seem like a faint memory.

"Sorry baby." Felicia replied, her breaths long and shallow. "S-sorry…I just feel so…tired."

As Jon made his way below, the crowd that had gathered immediately backed off, giving both of them a large berth.

"Oh my god, is that a werewolf?"

"What is it carrying?"

"H-hey! Its Felicia, that pop star!"

"O-oh my god, shouldn't we do something?"

"Please." Jon wearily said, as he slumped down in exhaustion. Using his beast cannon for such an extended amount of time took a lot out of him, and he needed a moment to recover. "Somebody just call 911."

There was a ripple through the crowd, as a few good Samaritans reached for their phones. Otherwise, the rest were just content on watching the duo.

Back against the wall, Jon waited for his regeneration to kick in. His fur soaked with perspiration, Jon felt the extent of his injuries catch up to him. The cuts from his encounter with the centurions did not seemed to be healing well, the wounds taking a longer time to heal than usual.

Felicia, however, got the most attention in the crowd. Managing to prop herself on the same wall, she held a trembling paw on her wound as she focused on staying conscious. Looking up, she was surprised to see one of her poster advertisements hanging above her. The Felicia there, smiling and holding up a bottle of perfume, contrasted heavily with the bloodied star. Phone cameras eagerly snapped amateur videos and pictures of the pop star, eagerly sending them to cyberspace. Felicia, still the showgirl, raised a weak "peace sign" in their direction, drawing even more camera flashes.

Despite the situation, Jon still managed to choke out a laugh, a harsh, barking sound that caused the crowd to take a collective step back.

"Hee.." Felicia giggled, "I always knew…you're not…a people's…person…"

They both shared a laugh, her sweet, melodious laughter mixing with his braying, uncontrollable laugh.

"Umm 'scuse me…"

In usion, they turned as one towards the voice, startling the woman who had stepped forth to help.

"I, er, ahhh…" She nervously said, uncertainty clear on her face as she started to step back.

"Hey…its alright." Felicia shot one of her stage smiles at the woman, her charm putting the crowd at ease. Despite the still bleeding hole in her, that smile contained nothing but friendliness. "What's the matter?"

Emboldened, the woman spoke up. "I know some first aid, is it alright if I try to help you and your…" she glanced nervously at the hulking werewolf "…friend there?"

"Sure." Jon replied, as he rose, his wounds more or less sealed up. "Just be careful around her." He added.

"Of course."

Working quickly, she undid her scarf and started towards Felicia…


Felicia felt fresh blood spray upon her face, as the woman stared listlessly at the spreading pools of blood upon her chest. Horrified shrieks rang from the crowd, as the woman slumped in a heap.

"Help and die!" A commanding voice rang out, as a group of darkhunters strode through the crowd. At once, the crowd panicked, turning upon itself as they sought to stay as far away from the maniacs with the guns and the darkstalkers, leaving them to their fate.

Jon immediately ran to scoop the shocked Felicia up….


The bullets thudded straight into his back, this time, the bullets burned with a peculiar sensation, an icy burn that spread through his veins with every heartbeat…

"Wha-what?" Jon managed, before he slumped on all fours.

"Jon!" Felicia cried, as she raised a paw towards him…


"No…" Jon wheezed, as yet another bullet pierced Felicia, this time just inches away from her heart. As he watched, vapor billowed out of the new wound, the edges turning blue with frostbite...

Felicia's paw dropped.

And Jon eagerly gave in to the beast.


He gratefully abandoned reason.

He eagerly cast away his sanity.

He needed, no, wanted to be a monster now.

Because all that mattered, right here and now, was getting that F**KING BASTARD'S HEAD IN HIS JAWS!

And with that, Jon "Gallon" Talbain pounced madly in rage at the accursed darkhunters…

Unbeknownst to Jon, Felicia still wasn't quite dead yet. True, she could feel her limbs getting cold and numb, her vision gradually getting blurred. However, she was still very much conscious when she beheld Jon at his last hours.

Although she knew Jon would probably join her soon, her heart swelled with pride as he gave all that he could, and then even more. This was the man, Felicia decided, who she fell in love with, The tall, dark, brooding fellow with the undying spirit, who would never leave her side, and who would still continue to fight, even if his cause was lost.

Guns boomed and knives flashed as, Jon ripped into the darkhuters, even as he was shot, burned, frozen and skewered by their assorted weaponry.

Her heart pounded with joy, when Jon still refused to give up even when he lost an eye.

She beamed with inner pride, as her man tore a too-slow hunter to shreds.

When Jon lost his right arm to an axe, Felicia could have cried when he simply shrugged it off, ready for yet even more.

He was still standing, even as he was sadistically butchered by a trio of darkhunters, his remaining arm no more than a stump, his once glorious bluish-silver fur now torn, singed and bloodied. The last 3 had him surrounded, taking advantage of his missing eye as they slashed away at his blind spots.

"Is that all you've got, huh?" Jon's voice seemed like it traveled through water now.

Then again, so did everything.

She could hear sirens getting louder, the wailing of ambulances now faint her ears. Abruptly as they had started, the 3 took off, leaving the victorious werewolf standing among the fallen.

But there was no howl of victory to be heard this time.

Jon was shaking as he staggered back to Felicia, his breathing long and ragged. Every step he took hurt less now, and Jon knew his regeneration must have reached its limit. Collapsing on Felicia's lap, he stared at her listlessly as she did the same, their lifeblood mixing together on the ground.

"I-" Jon started, when a white tail gently slid upon his muzzle, silencing him. The look in her eyes said it all, as did his.

Some sentances, just didn't need finishing.


Author's notes; If I can, I'll be adding on to it, as well a s a few new fanfics. But for now, this is it.