Tank the Hunter

Tank approached the school bus with his weapon at the ready. His body armor was thick and cumbersome but well worth it. With the full silver disc lighting up the night sky he would need all the protection he could get.

The door to the worn down yellow bus was cracked open. He saw nothing through the windows and paused to listen for any signs of life. If it was in there, and he was pretty sure it was, the beast was being quiet. It would bide its time and wait for the most advantageous time to strike. That was fine by Tank.

He slipped the fingers of one hand into the open space and slowly pried the door open. The hinges were well oiled and made hardly any sound. To the beast it might as well have been a car alarm going off.

Tank entered and slowly walked up the stairs. He scanned the area in front of himself with the rifle. Still no beast. Tank stood with his back to the windshield and waited.

He heard the low rumble of a growl. The rifle barked twice. Rounds flew from the silenced barrel and hit the bench chairs. Foam stuffing littered the air. The beast stopped growling. Any other wolf would have been charging after his attack, not this one.

Tank set his weapon on full auto and sprayed the bus. The beast umped up when the seats it hid between were hit. It slowly moved forward. Bullets hit its chest and barely made it stumble. The riffle clicked, the magazine was empty.

Tank dropped the gun and pulled his blade from its leg holster. The blade was always the plan. Silver bullets would have been nice but silver was not cheap. It was more cost effective to keep a silver blade and use it time and time again then to waste the bullets.

Tank charged. He hit the beast in the chest with his shoulder and slashed across its shoulder and chest. It howled and swung its massive arm. Tank flew through the air and slammed against the glass windshield, it cracked.

Darkness crept along the edges of his vision. Tank stood on shaky legs and shook his head. He managed to aggravate a headache he didn’t know he had. He had taken hits before but never as strong as that one. The myth about alpha wolves might prove to be true after all.

Tank raised his hands and realized he no longer held the knife. There was no way he would have time to find it. This was it, game over for the werewolf hunter. Tank clenched his fists tight and took a defensive stance. He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell without weapons but he was not about to die without a fight.

The werewolf tilted its head back and howled. Just a short yelp to instill fear or gloat or what the hell ever wolves did. It stepped forward and jerked. A fist burst out of its chest. The hand unclenched and the beast’s heart fell to the floor with a wet plop. The arm shook and the wolf fell free and onto a seat. Without the heart it was as good as dead. Not a tactic he could employ due to the amount of raw power needed to tear open the rib cage of a werewolf.

The owner of the arm was a young woman. Aside from the blood stained arm she was an attractive young girl in a sun dress. Nothing unusual about her.

“Thanks, I guess,” Tank said.

She smiled, “No thanks necessary. The beast promised to lose you before coming here. His failure to do so made him a liability and so I had to take care of him. Purely selfish reasons you understand, but you’re welcome.”

As she spoke Tank retrieved his rifle and put in a fresh magazine. He was not able to spot his knife which he sorely missed. The girl might not be a wolf, but she wasn’t human. Most things were weak to silver.

“Of course, I cannot allow you to leave. I do apologize but I will have to kill you now.”
Tank raised his gun and had the first three rounds fired before she finished speaking. Round after round impacted against her boy. She stumbled back step after step.

She never fell. The rifle clicked, it was empty.

“Foolish. You have to know there are things far worse than your little doggy over there. Like me, for instance.”

She tore the sundress off and let it fall to the floor. Tank watched as the bullets holes sealed closed. She was naked, her body covered in strange tattoos. Her eyes and the symbols etched in her flesh emanated a faint green light. Darkness oozed down the windows cutting off all light save for the glow from her.

Tank dropped his gun and lost control of his bladder. He turned to run for the door. She was there, right in front of him. She grabbed his throat with one hand and squeezed. Tank tried prying her hand off with both of his. Her grip only tightened. He kicked, scratched and punched until his lungs burned and He slipped into unconsciousness.