Devil Dawg Donnelly

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental.

You may contact the author at Ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions and/or obsevations are welcome if presented respectfully.

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Devil Dawg Donnelly's: Revelations

Chapter Two:

"We were the Marines the other Marines avoided. The pariahs, the bad-luck charms. The ones no one wanted to risk being near. As if we didn't just process death. As if we brought it." -- Barbara Nickless USMC

"I am such an idiot" Carl McGregor castigated himself, this was the second time in as many weeks that he was now finding himself caught unprepared and without his sidearm to defend or protect those within his charge.

Max had even warned him that he feared for Billy's safety, but Carl never considered for a second that with close to a hundred members of the Heritage, in addition to the twelve Marines born of the Heritage, that have been training for quite some time as the defenders of the compound and potentially Billy himself, that anyone would have been foolish enough to stage some sort of offensive against them, especially on their home turf. But as it now appeared, that is exactly what seemed to be happening as evidenced by the repeated staccato of rapid rifle fire that now pierced and splintered the otherwise typical rainy summer evening.

"Get down" Carl whispered gruffly as he shot furtive glances around the room to his charges. His first thought was to dowse the various oil lanterns that lit the great room of the cabin, but just as quickly dismissing the notion, realizing that his companions were mostly not of the Heritage, with the sole exemptions being Jason and JD, and would leave the others, who were probably already going to be at a great disadvantage if the compounds attackers were also born of the Heritage, which he had every reason to assume they were, left in the dark unable to defend themselves effectively, for all that it would avail them.

What was really confounding Carl was the fact that if they were of the Heritage, how were they masking their scent, that should have been the first warning sign that they were under assault, but even now, crouching there next to the front door, he still couldn't pick up on a single scent other than the ones he was already familiar with.

As if in answer to his query, Carl heard the heavy footsteps creak on the boards of the cabins back deck, and just as he whirled toward the twin french doors, watched as three darkly dressed figures, armed with assault rifles, kick them inward causing Jason to snatch JD and toss him almost effortlessly toward the fireplace, near where his mother sat, before launching himself at the three mask covered men.

As Carl rushed to assist the boy, he could already feel the rage build within Jason, he could smell the hormonal and pheromone build-up that preceded the onset of a shifting and despite his and Max's best intentions, Gavin, Timmy, and JD were about to get the biggest surprise of their lives.

Carl had seldom seen such a rapid shift from a first-timer before, nearly instantly the strong powerful scent of an enraged Alpha filled the room as a now fully transformed Jason howled and ripped at his shredding clothes, revealing the massive swelling of his frame and musculature, the protrusion of his lower jaw and nose into a snarling fang-filled snout, gnashing and snapping at the three invaders as his huge taloned fingers ripped and raked across the nearest one's flesh practically disemboweling him in the process, his blood spattering everywhere.

It took Carl mere seconds to join the fray, though not following Jason's lead, instead choosing to maintain his control and resort to his extensive military training to deal with their opponents.

That was his second mistake of the evening, one he quickly realized as two other men kicked in the front door of the cabin causing Elizabeth Dunne to scream as they began peppering the room with bullets from their assault rifles.

Leaving Carl to deal with the last of the three men who had kicked in the back doors, Jason leaped through the air to land full body against the two assailants, hurling them backward as his claws batted the nearest one's weapon away with one massive arm and bit through the seconds with a growling snarl so ferocious it nearly caused it's bearer to piss himself in fear.

Both men quickly darted back through the door and ran away in full retreat into the woods, Jason howled after them, shooting a brief, baleful look, with his smoldering, icy blue glowing eyes at JD and his mother, before darting out the door in hot pursuit.

"Jason no!!!" Carl yelled after him, suddenly realizing that Jason's absence now left him the sole member of the Heritage to protect the others, and just as he now feared, two more armed men stepped through the patio doors, leveling their weapons at Carl, forcing him to yield ground and seek cover as he flipped the table in the hopes it would afford him some coverage against the hail of bullets he was certain would follow.

Carl turned his head, searching for something he could use as a weapon, or a projectile he could hurl at them. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Brock ushered Gavin, Elizabeth, and JD behind the kitchen island and snatched up a butcher knife from the kitchen counter next to the sink, and take up a defensive posture over them.

"Well, well what have we here?!" Came the booming, malice-dripping voice that Carl instantly recognized as Michael Donnelly's as he entered the room through the main door of the cabin with a smirking Kent Bauers right on his heels.

Michael chuckled malevolently as he crossed the room, directly in front of the island until he came to a full stop to the far right of the large stone fireplace.

"I always knew you were a faggot..." Michael jeered, looking to Kent who just rolled his eyes, shaking his head, before he continued: "But I never figured you for a cowering coward, pissing in his boots and hiding behind a table at the first hint of trouble."

"Brave words coming from a traitorous pussy who needs armed men to protect him from a bunch of kids and a woman." Carl quipped back, the iris's of his eyes suddenly flashing a bright emerald green as he rose from behind the table to face the eldest son of his lifelong companion.

Carl's eyes immediately darted to the side when he heard a scuffle coming from behind the island and watched in apprehension as JD pulled away from Brock to come around the counter to confront his older sibling: "What the hell are you doing Mike?!" he queried, concern and angst hanging on every syllable of the words he hurled at his eldest sibling accusatorily.

"Stay out of this Pip, I've already lost one brother tonight I don't really want to lose another!" Mike spat back at him, staring his little brother down, the iris's of his eyes now burning a bright blood red.

JD's eyes went wide as saucers and his skin paled as an innate sense of wrongness oozed and dripped from his brother's malevolent, shifting grimace.

He watched as the once handsome features of his brother shifted before his very eyes into the misshapen, dark bestial form that looked more wolf-like than man.

"You fucking murderous asshole!" Carl shouted as he crossed the room, his own body shifting into a creature that was best described as somewhere between wolf and man, but nowhere near reeking of the venomous malignancy that radiated off the twisted creature before him; everything about him held the stench of vile, unnatural corruption; Carl couldn't imagine what unspeakable process had done this to him but he was certain as to who could have talked him into it.

Carl centered himself, his muscles coiling and tensing as he sought to hurl himself at the abomination before him, but pulling up short when he saw from the periphery of his vision, as JD now charged at his brother, his face contorted in anger, screaming: "What did you do to Billy you fuckin' asshole!?"

Before Carl could reach him, he watched in dismay as the monstrous form of what used to be Michael Donnelly lash out, backhanding JD, sending him flying backward across the floor, spitting blood from a split lip before smacking against the far wall next to the front door of the cabin.

Carl raged in furious anger launching himself at the misshapen beast, slamming his forehead against Michael's, the claws of his fingers digging into Michael's deltoids, before Michael's hands and clawed fingertips raked across his back, ripping his shirt and leaving large scratch marks that cut into his skin, before hurling him backward to smash hard against the floor of the cabin.

He laid there momentarily dazed by the shear strength of Michael's counter-attack, Carl knew there was no way Michael's strength and speed were natural, whatever had been done to him, it had unnaturally augmented and increased both.

As Carl gathered his strength, spurring his body into motion, rising up on his elbows, his eyes shot upward as they caught a glimpse of a white spinning shape hurtling high through the air in a ball-like shape, the twinkling glimmer of metal shimmering from its sides as it spun above and over him until it came crashing down, feet first directly on top of Michael's shoulders, with such force it drove him down to his knees, his head slamming into the floor before him, just as the shape pivoted and flipped over Michael to land directly in front of him.

Carl looked up into the visage of an angel, a coy smile, much like that of the Mona Lisa, barely perceptible on the silky smooth alabaster skin of Timmy Anderson's face.

He watched as Timmy winked at him mischievously as his arms spread like angelic wings, the reflective glint of two twin swords firmly grasped in either hand.

Behind him he watched as a stunned Michael's head rose from the floor, blood dripping from an abrasion on his forehead where it had impacted against the hard wooden surface, his large clawed hands slowly reaching up to strike at the mysterious youth in front of him.

With ease and grace that belied his squat muscular frame, Timmy flipped forward, the heals of his feet driving up into Michael's chin and snout, with such impetus to send his head sailing backward, blood, and mucous splattering backward arcing through the air.

Timmy rolled into a ball on the floor several times before shooting up high into the air, spiraling and soaring backward, curling into a ball once again right before he drove the twin blades right through Michael's two thighs and calves, sinking the sharp pointed tips of the swords inches deep into the floorboards, pinning Michael to the floor howling in pain and anguish.

Timmy squatted there, in front of him, his hands still holding the twin brass hilts, smiling wickedly back at a raging Michael, before twisting his wrist sideways, snapping the hilts off the swords leaving only the twin blades impaling him to the floorboards.

Michael's hands shot to the blades, snarling and growling like a rabid beast as the twin-edged blades scored and dug into his fingertips causing them to gush with blood as they sliced into his flesh effectively halting him from gripping them and extricating himself from his predicament.

Timmy stood up, his hands on his hips, an amused look on his face as he extended his right hand and daintily flicked his index finger against Michael's snarling snout: "Bad puppy!" Timmy chided playfully before turning to a growling, shifting Kent, still standing several feet behind Michael, next to the fireplace, and wagged his finger at him while sternly saying: "Heel boy."

The scene that greeted Baxter Whitmore as he pulled up to Miriam Hollis's house was straight out of a crime drama.

The rain had pretty much subsided as he parked his mother's car and got out to survey the area, now laden with cop cars and two emergency vehicles, lights flashing as a myriad of cops, EMT's and a horde of curious neighbor's and bystanders wandered about, speculating as to what had happened.

Baxter watched as cops kept busily taping off the area around the house, cautioning people away from the front entrance while uniformed and plainclothes cops entered and exited the domicile.

"That poor woman, what kind of monster would do such a thing?" Baxter heard one female neighbor say to another: "I heard them say they were still looking for her son, that the house is a wreck on the inside." said another.

Baxter listened intently, trying to discern and piece together what had actually occurred here as he made his way around the perimeter toward the emergency vehicles and the two ambulances on either side of the street.

He watched as one of the ambulances suddenly took off, siren wailing as it pulled out and made its way rapidly down the road.

It was then he heard a familiar voice pleading loudly: "Let me go, I have to go with her!"

Baxter pivoted toward the second ambulance, maneuvering around several spectators before coming nearly face to face with Arlis Gundarson, his massively muscular frame sitting on the edge of the second ambulance as an EMT was attempting to tend one of the many scratches and bleeding wounds that covered his fully exposed upper torso.

Arlis's face was splattered in blood as were his large hands, several gashes to his head continued to drip crimson down his forehead and across his cheeks as he continuously fidgeted irritably while the EMT swabbed at them with gauze and peroxide, obviously trying to cleanse his wounds, some of which looked rather severe to Baxter, though not life-threatening.

Arlis continued to shrug them off as he continuously fumbled with his phone, growing more and more frustrated as his blood-soaked fingers interfered with the accuracy of its touch screen interface: "Why doesn't he pick up dammit?!" Arlis groaned in frustration, glaring at his blood-soaked screen as Gavin Hollis's voice instructed him to leave a message after the tone. Baxter still had no clue as to what was going on, or why Arlis looked like he had just been through hell and back, but what was clear to him was how upset and worried he seemed to be, staring at his phone and shaking his head as he pleaded with Gavin to call him back, finally concluding his message by saying: "Your Mom's been hurt and I don't know if she's going to be okay."

His voice sounded so forlorn and lost to Baxter that he was moved to push past the growing crowd attempting to join him and offer him a familiar face and voice for comfort and support.

"Arlis?!" Baxter cried out, just as a uniformed cop blocked his way, instructing him to step back.

"Baxter is that you?" Arlis shouted back, his eyes growing wide, locking with Baxter's, as he once again shrugged off the EMT working on him and stood up to take a step toward him.

A step was all he took before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and the massive, muscular youth dropped to his knee's and nearly landed face first in the road if not for a quick-acting Baxter who caught him in his arms and lowered his head to his lap.

The EMT quickly joined him: "Do you know this boy?" he asked calmly as his gloved hands busily began checking Arlis pulse and respiration and helping Baxter flip him over on his back with Arlis's head cradled in Baxter's lap.

"Yes," Baxter responded: "He's a friend from school and a good friend to Gavin Hollis who lives here," he added quickly.

As another EMT joined them, pushing a wheeled stretcher with him, the first EMT smiled back at Baxter reassuringly: "Does he have any parents or family we can get in touch with?" he asked hopefully as he once again began to swab at Arlis's many wounds and scratches.

"He lives with his parents out on their farm right outside of town" Baxter stammered, noting for the first time the blood on his own fingers as he subconsciously stroked Arlis's sandy blond, blood-streaked hair.

"Do you have a number we can call to reach them?" queried one of the other attendants, a short, heavier set woman, who had her dark hair tied back into a tight bun on the back of her head, her large brown eyes, a sea of calm and comfort as she waited for a response.

"No..."Baxter paused, trying to clear his head as his heart raced within his chest wondering who or what could have done this to someone as big and badass as Arlis Gundarson: "He really doesn't have that many friends that I know of, Gavin is the only one he was ever really close to in school."

Baxter gulped, trying to avoid the next question, fearing what the response would be: "Are Gavin and Mrs. Hollis okay?"

The female EMT paused for a moment as her coworkers transferred Arlis from the ground to a gurney and began loading him into the ambulance: "I really can't say anything about Mrs. Hollis, but other than Mr. Gundarson, there was no one else in the house."

Baxter sighed with relief, but suddenly remembered something else, something Billy had told him a while back: "Her son works part-time at the local Piggly Wiggly, maybe he's there right now, I think his uncle is the store manager!"

The EMT thanked him for his assistance, stating she would inform the detective in charge about Gavin and his uncle as she handed Baxter a couple of wet wipes to clean the blood from his hands.

As the ambulance pulled out and Baxter looked down his body and saw the various spots of blood that sporadically dappled his clothing, he caught the glint of Arlis's phone laying in the street and bent to pick it up, noting as he did so that the last number he had dialed was Gavin's.

Baxter punched the number into his own phone, thinking he would try to get a hold of Gavin himself later, and then went to find one of the cops to turn Arlis's phone over to them.

Just as he was explaining to the detective in charge of the scene that he had found Arlis's phone and reached out to hand it to him, the phone started ringing in his hand, below the number that came up on the screen he could see the name "Jurgen Gundarson" and stated to the detective, as he handed it to him, that he knew that that was Arlis's Dad.

The detective took the call and Baxter just stood there, eavesdropping on the conversation, though not really garnering any more information than he already knew, other than the location of the Hospital they were transporting Arlis and Mrs. Hollis too.

Deciding there was really nothing else he could accomplish there Baxter returned to his vehicle and headed back home.

He didn't realize how shaken the incident had left him until he was recounting the events to his mother when he noticed how his hands were trembling.

His mother noticed too, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around him, assuring him that she was sure everything was going to be okay.

After a few moments, his Mom gently pushed him away, running her fingers through his hair as she suggested he get out of his blood-stained clothes and take a quick warm shower to calm his nerves.

Later, after he had showered and changed into something clean he picked up his phone and pulled up Gavin's number and stared at it for a moment before he hit dial, just like it had with Arlis, no one answered and Baxter left a message instructing Gavin to call him back, that it was important.

As he concluded his message he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door and turned to find his Mom standing there with her purse in hand and her car keys in the other: "Sweetheart, I think I'm going to head over to the hospital and check on Miriam, I don't think I'll be able to sleep until I know she's going to be okay."

Baxter gave her a faint supportive smile before responding: "I want to come with you so I can check on Arlis, Gavin's his only real friend Mom and he seemed so upset that he hasn't been able to get a hold of him."

"Are you sure honey, it might be a while before we actually know anything, that is if they even tell us anything at all?" His Mom cautioned, a look of concern crossing her face as she once again ran her fingers reassuringly through his short-cropped auburn hair.

"I'd rather be there than sitting here worrying, besides I left a message for Gavin myself, and if he calls I want to be where I can get him the most up-to-date information on what's happened."

Baxter frowned, looking down at his phone, before adding: "You didn't see him Mom Arlis was a mess, but all he could think about was Gavin..." Baxter paused, as his mind began to swim in visions that mirrored what he had seen that evening but substituting himself and Billy in the scenario and it sent chills down his spine.

His Mom smiled warmly back at him and cocked her head: "Then I guess we better get over to the hospital and check on both of them."

It was a short trip over to the hospital but it seemed to take forever as Baxter kept running over the events of the evening, unable to shake the image of Arlis's blood-soaked hands fumbling with his phone with trembling fingers, the way his voice cracked as he pleaded with Gavin to pick up or call him back.

Baxter recognized the emotions behind it, it was the same emotions he shared with him, except his were for Billy and it made him wonder if perhaps he and Arlis shared something else in common.

Like everyone else in school, he had heard the rumors about Gavin and Arlis, but had always assumed it was exactly that, just rumors, the kind of idle gossip so many kids his age seemed to thrive on.

They never had the nerve to confront Arlis to his face about it, because they feared what he might do, but it didn't stop them from snickering behind his and Gavin's back about it and making snide jokes, especially assholes like Blake Riley and the queen of nasty bitches Rebecca Wheeler and her gaggle of harpies.

Baxter's thoughts shifted as he and his Mom approached the hospital reception desk and his mother inquired about both Arlis and Miriam's status.

They didn't learn much since it was policy not to divulge confidential medical information about any patient in their care, but they did learn that Miriam was still in surgery and that Arlis had been treated and was waiting in the emergency room to be transferred to a room.

Baxter's Mom decided to wait in the lobby for any update on Miriam, while Baxter popped over to the ER lobby in hopes of catching up with Arlis.

His timing had been fortuitous as Arlis was seated in a wheelchair right at the nurse's station waiting for an orderly to transport him to his assigned room.

Arlis was obviously pleased to see a familiar face, though the first words out of his mouth were him inquiring whether he had heard anything from Gavin yet or if he knew anything about Mrs. Hollis's condition since no one in the ER would tell him anything.

Before Baxter could even answer him, an orderly showed up to escort him to his room, telling Baxter that he was welcome to accompany them, but it was after visiting hours and he doubted the charge nurse would allow him to stay very long since he wasn't a relative.

That was okay by him, he had just wanted to make sure the big guy was okay and perhaps see if he could learn what had happened that got both him and Mrs. Hollis in such a frightful condition, he had caught snippets from the throng of people who stood mostly around to gawk and snoop at the scene, mostly concluding that they had been attacked by some wild animal.

Later, after the nurse finished checking him in and telling Baxter he could only stay for a few minutes, he turned to Arlis and asked him what had happened.

Arlis just shook and scratched his head, telling Baxter about how Gavin had asked him to check on his Mom from time to time while he was away and how just as he pulled up in his truck he saw her entering the house, stating he had no intention of going over to talk to her having seen that she was okay and that he sat there for a few minutes as he typed a message to Gavin, intending to tell him that he was there now and his Mom seemed okay when he heard her shouting in the house at someone, just as the rain started pouring it down.

"So you know where Gavin is dude?" Baxter asked, quizzically.

"Sure" Arlis responded, adding: "He went with Billy Donnelly to some camp up past Macon and was going to be there for a couple of weeks doing some sort of training exercise."

Baxter had a momentary flash of jealousy and anger, as he silently wondered why it was okay for Gavin, who was younger than he was, to go to the compound while he, Billy's supposed lifelong best friend was barred from doing so, that and he couldn't help but wonder when Billy and Gavin had become such good friends since he had never mentioned him before, and that this was the first time he was hearing that they were ever anything more than acquaintances who sometimes worked together. Baxter began wondering if they were actually as close as he had always thought they were, maybe, he reasoned to himself, that he didn't know Billy as well as he thought he did and maybe this was his plan all along and had gotten his Dad to bar him from his birthday bash just so he could hang with his new best bud instead.

Maybe, Baxter speculated, Billy had already guessed his secret somehow and was just trying to distance himself from Baxter without making too much of a scene about it or drawing attention to the fact they had been best friends for years, worrying that if it ever came out that Baxter was gay, that people might assume that he was too.

Baxter was suddenly feeling the urge to get out of there, he needed to think this all through, but he hung around as a courtesy to Arlis, who was still relating the events leading up to Mrs. Hollis's scream for help and Arlis rushing across the street only to find the front door locked as he heard the sounds of a struggle on the other side and something that sounded like a snarling animal.

It was her second scream that had spurred him to smash through the door and charge at who or whatever it was attacking Gavin's Mom.

Baxter paused him, holding his hand up haltingly: "What do you mean by who or what Arlis?" Baxter queried, not sure if he had heard him correctly or not.

"It was wild dude..." Arlis continued, his eyes growing distant as his mind's eye replayed the incident over in his head: "It was like this huge hairy beast that stood upright and had Gavin's Mom pinned to the wall but it was dressed in human clothes, I know that part for certain because I could feel the fabric as I tackled it to the floor."

It was obvious to Baxter that Arlis believed every word that he was saying, so he encouraged him to continue.

"It was strong too" Arlis whispered: "Stronger than anyone I've ever faced off against before, but it also had claws or something, because it kept scratching and digging into me as we rolled around on the floor before I managed to push it away."

Arlis paused again, shaking his head side to side as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms right before he locked eyes with Baxter: "I was almost flat on my stomach when a flash of lightning allowed me to see the fireplace poker a few feet away by the fireplace and as I reached for it, this thing bit right into my shoulder as its claws raked across my back, if it wasn't for that metal fire poker, I'm not sure I would be here now to tell the tale."

Arlis's expression grew somber as his eyes came into focus, glaring back at Baxter: "One other thing..." He paused, his voice low and ominous: "Its eyes glowed like two red coals the entire time and it snarled and growled like a big huge dog."

Baxter could hear the footsteps coming down the hallway, heading toward the room as Arlis concluded: "I can't remember much after that, other than fighting for my life and beating that thing over and over again with that metal poker until a couple of the neighbors showed up and it darted out the patio doors and over the wooden privacy fence in the back yard."

It was at that time that Arlis's Mom and Dad showed up and his attention and focus turned to his very concerned and troubled parents.

Baxter had excused himself quietly, his own thoughts now consumed with what Arlis had told him.

He had never known Arlis to be anything other than a straightforward and grounded type of guy, not someone prone to exaggeration or embellishment.

Baxter soon found himself rejoining his Mom as she sat there expectantly waiting for him to return, joined now by a rather plump short man he soon learned was Gavin's uncle: "There's been some good news son..." his Mom smiled cautiously: "Miriam's out of surgery and though she still hasn't regained consciousness, they think she's going to be okay."

As Baxter sighed his relief at the news and his Mom bid goodnight to Miriam's brother and thanked him once again for letting her know about his sister's progress.

Baxter took his mother's arm and walked her out of the hospital and out to their car.

Just as they went to get into their vehicle his Mom looked across the roof of the car with a quizzical look in her eyes: "Funny thing though..." she said, momentarily locking eyes with Baxter: "Her brother said the police report said she was attacked by a man, but the doctor told her brother that it looked like she had been mauled by an animal."

Baxter shuddered, reminded of Arlis's own assertions that whatever had attacked Miriam Hollis, wasn't quite human and nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone suddenly rang and Billy Donnelly's icon popped up.

Max stood there, a few feet behind the now fully transformed figure of his son, transfixed in awe of what they had achieved. Billy was beyond their expectations.

He could feel Jake and Atticus move to flank him on either side, he looked to each of them and saw reflected in their eyes, the same sense of wonderment at who and what now stood directly before them.

For fourteen generations, ever since the first Donnelly crossed the Atlantic to establish the very first Grege in what was then known as the new world and laid the very first stones to the oldest ceremonial grounds on this side of the planet, stood the culmination of Max's forefathers, who believed they could make manifest, through generations of selective breeding, a resurrected leader, in the purist of their forms. A creature of such might, like that of their Progenitor, whose progeny had once conquered the known world and built an empire so mighty and far-reaching, that remnants of it still existed to this day.

Such a being stood before him now, there could be no doubt about it, he saw it reflected in the expectant eyes of the two young men beside him.

Max turned to look at Atticus, whose eyes mirrored Jake's as he stared in reverent wonderment at his sons back, the iris's of his eyes blazing emerald green as he adoringly soaked it all in, mesmerized and subsumed with the realization of all he could have ever hoped or dreamed for, embodied in the man that stood before him.

They stood there in the pouring rain together, basking in their accomplishment when they heard the distant scream of a woman.

"Carl!?" Max muttered, barely audibly, his heart skipping a beat, his stomach tightening into knots as his mind filled with dread and foreboding.

Billy must have sensed it too, as Max watched his sons body coil and tense just before bounding high into the air, to soar over the twenty-foot flames of the ceremonial grounds bonfire, higher and further than anything he had ever seen or heard possible, to land with a resounding screech of shattering stone, reduced to rubble and scattering debris upon impact, some forty feet away.

Not missing a beat, Billy's fully shifted form darted toward the path at record-breaking speeds.

Max howled his rage into the storm as he, Jake, and Atticus bound after him.

They ran as fast as possible, certain they would never catch up with Billy, but as Max and the others came around the first bend in the path, Max watched as Billy stood there in the middle of the path as one of the figures dressed in black stumbled out of the woods, fleeing the righteous vengeance being exacted upon him and his compatriots for their violation of one of their most sacred and time-honored traditions of the Heritage.

He barely had time to swing his rifle up protectively before Billy was on him, his clawed fist shattering the rifle into exploding pieces as Billy's razor-sharp claws dug into and penetrated his armored vest, to dig into his chest before hurling him through the air effortlessly to smack with a resounding bone-shattering thud against one of the trees before tumbling down to the ground in a lifeless heap.

They had almost caught up to him when he suddenly turned and once again distanced himself from them, heading directly toward the parking lot.

Mere seconds later, with Jake and Atticus trailing behind him, Max came to a sudden stop, noting Billy as he stood near one of the SUVs nearest to the entrance of the path.

To the side and directly facing Billy, two dark figures exited the woods, their rifle sites trained directly on his son, Max watched as Billy ripped the driver's side door off the SUV and used it as a shield as the figures fired repeated rounds at him.

In what could only be measured in fractions of a second, Billy launched himself at the pair, wielding the door like a battering ram as he crashed into them, smashing them to the ground.

As Max surveyed the scene as it unfolded, Billy repeatedly battered them with the metal door until their bodies were nothing more than an unidentifiable mash of blood, guts, and gore before flinging what remained of the door with such force into the woods, it nearly severed a pine tree in half.

Max stood there dumbfounded as the equally surprised Atticus and Jake joined him, their mouths wide open their eyes wide as saucers as they purveyed and assessed the carnage.

It was then, as they strode nearer to Billy, they noticed how he was now staring out toward the lake and as they cleared the low lying shrubs and underbrush that barred their vision, they saw what he was seeing.

A lone figure, down by the lakeshore battling five more shifted dark figures. It quickly became apparent, they were locked in a life or death struggle, as the lone figure was tirelessly ripping, biting, and otherwise ferociously brutalizing each and every one of his opponents.

Max sniffed the air... before quietly whispering his name "Jason."

Coming to the conclusion that he didn't need their help, Max veered off, nodding at Billy before they peeled off together toward the cabin, with Jake and Atticus in tow.

As they drew nearer the cabin, Max could see through the wide-open door, his eldest son Michael apparently pinned to the floor by two metal blades and a shifting Kent Bauers right behind him staring down at a defiant Timmy Anderson, hovering almost protectively in front of a prone, but slowly rising Carl.

He couldn't make out any other figures in the room, but he could smell them, more precisely, he could smell their fear.

Max silently signaled for Atticus to swing around the back of the cabin with him, then motioned for Jake to wait for his cue before entering the front.

As he and Atticus were about to make their corner turn, Max looked back and watched as Billy shifted back to his normal form.

He stopped for a minute to watch as his son looked down his body at the silver medallion still burning into the center of his chest before raising his right hand to clasp it between his fingers and rip it from his neck tossing it to the ground before walking straight through the door of the cabin.

"Shit!" Max muttered to himself as he gave one last glaring glance at Jake, who just shrugged his shoulders and followed after him.

As swiftly and silently as he and Atticus could, they made their way toward the back entrance, each of them creeping up on the two darkly dressed figures standing with their rifles at waist height facing forward into the cabin, blocking the double door exit to the back deck.

On his mark, he and Atticus subdued the two men, knocking them unconscious with one perfectly placed blow each before stepping into the room to confront a jeering Kent Bauers.

"Good of you to join us uncle Max" he snarled through his misshapen muzzle lined with large yellowed teeth.

Kent now reeked of the wrong that was done to him, Max almost pitied him for what he must have been subjected to achieve such an abominable result.

Kent's dark, sparsely furred mottled hide undulated with the rippling striations of his unnaturally swollen muscles, his eyes glowed with a baleful sickly red.

As Max stepped into the room, he saw Carl's half-prone body still on the floor, he immediately dropped down next to him, grabbing him by either side of his head and touching his forehead to Carl's: "Are you okay baby?"

Carl pushed himself up into a sitting position before Max lifted him to his feet and began patting his body surveying him for damage.

"I'm fine Max" Carl offered halfheartedly as they all turned their attention to Billy as he stood there just four feet into the room teetering on his feet as he swayed wobbly to and fro before his knees buckled and he fell into a heap on the floor.

Both Max and Carl rushed to his side, flipping him over onto his back as Carl cradled his head in his lap.

"I think he just passed out is all," Carl announced, his fingers brushing through his hair and stroking his brow.

"It happens soon after their first shift" Max declared turning to watch as Jake pulled a still dazed JD into his arms protectively, his large rough hand gently caressing his cheek as the other held him tight against him.

"Aww, ain't this cute, a family reunion!" Hissed a malevolent voice, dripping with bile coming from the twin door opening that Max and Atticus had just come through.

Atticus twirled around in surprise as the huge, massive distorted shape, easily over seven feet tall, despite its hunched over, ape-like lumbering muscle swollen frame, squeezed through the twin portal.

Moving swiftly into action Atticus swung with all his might his own huge fist to strike the beast against its drooling maw.

To his dismay the beast shrugged it off with a roll of mocking guttural laughter before sweeping its own misshapen arm to backhand him sending him flying backward to crash into the wall with a loud thud, knocking the breath out of him before he slumped to the floor shaking his head.

Max stood and moved to the center of the room to confront the twisted hideous creature, his hands on his hips, a deep churning growl on his lips: "Monaca!"