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“Arc Catholic Church…” muttered Diana, clutching her phone dearly to her chest. Every breath was a breath of relief—”Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.”—and ironically enough, she wasn’t wrong. “That’s near here. Do you think we can convince our teachers to go, Althea?”

Althea Shen stood on a pile of sturdy wooden crates, looking out the narrow window that broadcasted a view of the streets. It was too dangerous. Although she could only see legs, there were a lot of them. Gray, gray legs.

Too many legs.

“Nope,” Althea said, climbing down from her perch. “It’s not safe at all. How far is Arc Catholic?”

“A few blocks, I don’t know, it takes me fifteen minutes to walk from there to here,” Diana answered. Fifteen minutes was relatively short, emphasis on “relatively” because by God, fifteen minutes now was more like fifteen hours.

How long would it take to move everyone there? Althea thought, calculating the travel time in her head. There’s at least one hundred of us spread throughout the basement. It’ll be impossible to wrangle us for fifteen long minutes.

The only realistic option was to wait for Slayers to clear the area. Alternatively, she could sneak out of Julius High; a dumb idea, really. Diana suggested they should earlier and Althea shot her down. They would die within a second, Diana faster so. It wasn’t that she was incompetent—well, that was a lie, there wasn’t a bone of common sense in her. Disasters brought the worst out of people, either through incapability or being too capable.

Near the entrance of the basement, she heard Miss Rosenberg and Principal Gotts arguing. Arguing too loud for the matter, considering she was at the back of the room.

Miss Rosenberg, her chemistry teacher, insisted, “The Slayers will come here at any second, Gotts! We need to stay put, hunker down, pray to whatever God we have, and wait! Going outside is suicidal!”

“And risk becoming sitting ducks for the things outside?!” Principal Gotts gestured outside. “When they find us, we’d be outmatched! Look at us!” Miss Rosenberg didn’t look, and that made him steam. “Look! Look at how we’re bunched up! Look at how we’re crowded together like these walls—!” he viciously slapped the concrete walls, “—are made of tin!”

“You’re being overdramatic—!”

“Overdramatic!” Principal Gotts threw his arms up at the absurdity. “It’s not like the city is under siege by some eldritch horror!”

“We have a duty to protect these kids!” reminded Miss Rosenberg, changing the conversation. “Tin walls are better than the streets, I think. The guilds are out, the Slayers are out, they’ll come for the schools soon enough, and we’ll be here, kissing their feet for saving us! So you—!”

She prodded Gotts’s chest multiple times with an imposing finger; he slapped it away. “Stop that!”

“So you will stay here unless you want to kiss the streets. By all means, you’re free to leave, Principal. I protect children, not men acting like one.”

“And can you protect them when an orc marches down?” Principal Gotts was unswayed. “Damned if we do, damned if we don’t, danger surrounds us.”

Althea couldn’t disagree with both of them. It was dangerous to stay in the basement; the only exit was the only entrance. The windows were far too small for anyone to crawl through. But going outside, although allowed many avenues, most of them led to dead ends. Dead if they did, dead if they didn’t.

She sighed, continuing to watch the threats outside.

Diana gently kicked the crates to get her attention. “H-Hey uhm, Thea…”

“Yeah?”

“Are… Are we gonna die?” she squeaked, raw like there was nothing else.

It was like listening to an old recording of herself. Althea shook her head, adamant and determined it wasn’t so. “No, we’re not. The Slayers will come eventually and put an end to this outbreak.”

“Alright… Alright…” Diana said, repeating the same word “Alright” to convince herself.

And I’m waiting for you, Alex. Wherever you are, you better be safe. You and Leo. Vernon, if you can hear my thoughts right now, don’t get yourself killed, idiot.

Above, snarling came.

~~~

[Enemy]

Wolva

A5 Mob

Skills:

???

Passives:

???

Power: ???

Constitution: ???

Agility: ???

Magick: ???

A beastly growl rattled the air, and eased to a hiss that lasted long, dwelling in the back of their heads. It was a constant reminder of death. It grew louder, and the danger revealed its lupine paws, its goblinoid flesh and five fingers. The hiss sung, and the threat peered through the door, so tall that it had to duck underneath the frame.

The hiss became clicking, ivory teeth thumping against their lower partners. It had special eyes. Most things had succinct sight—an apple was an apple and a tree was a tree—but this one, the Wolva, it was given a special sort of eyes, a new perspective. It did not see the team of five as a team of five, but a herd—succulent.

“Haaah…” it breathed. Standing before them, it grasped the top of the steel door and twisted. Twisted, and metal groaned; twisted, and the hinges and its bolts popped one by one like bone from bone. With a resounding snap, the door was free.

“Oh shit…” muttered Alexander, still and unmoving from the intensity of the Wolva’s presence.

The beast lifted the broken metal as though it was feathers. It roared, and it hurled the thing mightily towards them.

“Shit!” Alexander felt the terror now. Everyone split themselves down the middle, acting out of natural instincts. The door tore through the railing like it was nothing and embedded itself flat in the wall like a thumbtack to cork. Alexander tried to react, he tried to scream some sort of order, but he was too slow. A black flash came—the Wolva!—and leapt so high that it shadowed the group. It reeled its claw back.

The door was a distraction. It had intelligence.

Alexander pushed Leona on the next set of stairs next to Kirk, leaving her sprawled against the dirty steps. Mattis was in danger. Reacting swiftly, he kicked him onto his back, and Mai caught him, tumbling together and thumping on the landing below. Alexander threw himself back onto Leona, protecting her with his body.

The Wolva came and dragged its claws through the reinforced concrete. It was sharp. Too sharp. A single swipe came and nearly bisected the platform they stood on moments prior; chunks came and spilled out. No wonder it was a great hunter.

It landed back on the ground floor, the first floor, and snarled, so disappointed that it couldn’t kill its prey. But the disappointment passed, and it grinned. No, it must have thought, the fun was in the struggle! Struggle, pathetic humans! Struggle!

Mattis screamed, and Mai did too. There was a rift between them and Alexander, a claw-sized rift. They were the closest to the Wolva, and it had its eyes on Mattis.

“Mattis!” shouted Alexander. He scrambled to stand, almost tumbling himself. He gripped the hobgoblin axe he procured earlier, firmly in his right, and reached for a pen in his [Inventory]. As the Wolva noticed the pair, he used [Certain Shot].

The pen simply bounced off the Wolva’s neck. But it felt it. The weak, but struggling fire. “Haha,” it laughed in growls. It reached down and grabbed a rock-sized piece of rubble—

“Guh—?!” Alexander fell against the nearest wall, clutching his right shoulder. He felt warm blood oozing from a small hole, two holes actually. It happened so fast that he couldn’t see it: the Wolva flicked the concrete pebble like a bullet. He thought he heard Leona’s voice too. But…

It could’ve easily aimed for his head. The pain was a message: Wait, human. I’ll enjoy killing you later.

Alexander was suddenly pulled to his feet by Leona. “We need to get out of here, Alex!”

“They’re still down there!” he said. He couldn’t let them die. Breaking free from Leona, he—

“Run, Mai!” Mattis shouted from below. The second later, he jumped from the staircase, holding a piece of concrete about the size of his palm, towards the Wolva.

Alexander’s eyes widened. “Don’t—!”

The Wolva caught Mattis by the neck.

Mattis screamed, uselessly bashing the piece against the Wolva’s head over and over and over and over, until it crumbled, so he used his fist, over and over and over, until it bled. Everyone was too paralyzed to save him.

“Haha,” mused the Wolva.

Mattis screamed again until the monster slammed him on the floor. Like his team, he was paralyzed. The slam broke his spine, shattered it, so he laid on his back, groaning, croaking. Sneering, the Wolva glanced at every soul above it, and placed one foot on Mattis’s back.

He groaned until it was crushed out of him.

Mai cried out in horror.

“Mai…” muttered Alexander. The Wolva noticed her. “Fucking run, Mai!”

Mai found the strength to scamper up the stairs while the Wolva cackled, allowed. She jumped the gap and Leona helped her over, and Kirk brought an arm around Alexander and they hurried to the urban angels above, spiraling upwards and onwards.

But their human legs could only take them so far. The Wolva’s were thicker; they could jump higher, leap farther, run faster. By the time they took a handful of steps, the goblinoid wolf leapt to the same level in a single bound, talons holding it to the wall.

“Up up up!” shouted Kirk, pulling Alexander along harder.

The wound in his shoulder was making it difficult to think; all Alexander knew right now was the fundamental actions of panic. Not even he was immune to it, acting on impulse. And he knew of his sad state as a Pseudo, a weak snail in the eyes of the predator. A tiny snail with fragile bones as a shell. And so was Leona, and Mai, and what was left of Mattis.

The Wolva played with them. Every time they made it to another platform, it jumped across the space and latched onto the wall, and it roared, shaking the floors and the railings. But it too knew boredom. Fortunately, the four knew how to entertain. Upon reaching the third floor, Kirk kicked the door open and threw Alexander inside, pulled Leona and the crying Mai with him, and ducked in, shutting the thin steel.

Alexander came to his feet, glancing at the windows behind him. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t think I can punch that thing to death!”

“I hate to admit that we don’t have a fucking rocket launcher!” Kirk shouted back.

Leona readied herself, raising her blade. She, however, was shaking. “Would it even blow the Wolva up?!”

Kirk shrugged. “I hope it blows us up!”

“Why are we arguing about this?!” Mai wailed. “I—”

Claws penetrated the door.

Alexander tucked his sword away in his [Inventory].

Kirk raised, “Shen, do you have a plan?!”

“Circle back down to the lobby, that’s what! Come on!” Alexander grabbed Leona’s hand—she startled from the suddenness, broken from her stance—and began sprinting once more. Kirk and Mai followed behind, the former callously swearing before God and the latter praying. At the other end of the floor was the common stairwell for general use, if God heard them, they would make it there.

However deaf God was today, that remained to be seen. The Wolva broke through the door, kicking it vigorously so that it flew out the window. Alexander didn’t dare turn around. A rhythmic prowl on all fours chased them—thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud—breaking through the columns of desks with its momentum alone. Alexander ignored the pain in his shoulder and ran continuously, counting the seconds until safety. It wouldn’t be for more than a few seconds.

They navigated through the mess of office desks, fallen computers, and the deceased, hopping over bloodstains, piles of paper, toppled ceiling lights and chunks of what was once human, all the yelling and the screaming that assailed them, the thrill of the hunt, and their fates a second after.

By a miracle, or perhaps it was the Wolva letting them flee—like a game—they reached the end and dashed to the far left, towards the glass walls and the glass doors showing freedom; the glass was long shattered but that only made it easier. Alexander let go of Leona’s hand a while back—he forgot when, he hadn’t realized it until now—and was the first to find shards crackling under his feet.

He leashed Leona over, then Kirk, and Mai was a few seconds away. Alexander shouted, “Hurry!”

Mai reached out.

A table blindsided her, flung.

It knocked her into the wall, head rattling against the tiles. Mai was dazed for a moment, head wobbling to stay awake, and when she opened her eyes, the Wolva trapped her. “Huh…?”

Absentmindedly, she looked over to the others. “Help…me…”

In a single bite, half her neck was missing.

“Mai…?” Alexander muttered.

“We need to go, Alex!” Leona tugged him away as the Wolva made a quick snack of their coworker.

Alexander, Leona, and Kirk went down, down, down to the lobby. Alexander couldn’t count how many steps they ran; they blended together and looked the same. Mixture of red and gray and brown and black—that color came from the false night. When he thought about it, the colors, it made his head spin. It made his stomach sick, and he began coughing. Hacking, violently.

He couldn’t breathe; he ran so much, so much in fear, that he was exhausted. All the fighting earlier expended his immediate energy. He stood in the lobby of System Articles again, maybe for the last time. Hopefully the annoying receptionist could lambaste him one more time.

Alexander bent over, hands on his knees, shaking his head. “I… I don’t know how much longer I can run. I almost fell… I almost fell so many times…”

“Do we want to try our luck outside?” asked Kirk.

Leona shook her head. “And leave everyone else here to die?”

“I—”

“Get outta here, Leo…” Alexander breathed. “...You too, Kirk.”

Leona stared blankly at him. “What?”

Kirk shook his head, angry at the thought. “No—“

“I’m exhausted as it is, but I could probably buy ten seconds at most. That’s more than enough—“

Leona grabbed Alexander’s shoulders and shook him, thinking it’d give him the energy. It didn’t. It made him want to cry, seeing how horrified she was. The last thing he wanted was to leave her, and die like her parents had. “Don’t say that, Alex! You’re coming with me! We’ll find Thea, we’ll—!”

The Wolva’s stomps vibrated throughout the floor.

Alexander laughed for some odd reason, not even he knew why. “You can find Seraph, alright? Or Archknell, or even Mark. You can save everyone here, you and Kirk—”

Kirk scoffed. “We can give this bastard a minute of his time—no, the entire night. I’m not going anywhere, son. You need to go, Ahn.”

“I’m not leaving you here to die, both of you—!” Stomp. Leona quivered. “You’re coming with me—!”

“Do it!” Alexander opened his [Inventory] and equipped the [Hobgoblin Steel]. “I’m fighting either way, and I don’t want Althea to lose us both. She…” He remembered how sweetly they laughed together. “...You’re her big sister, Leo. The one she always wanted. At least she’ll have you and not her stupid brother, right?”

They saw the Wolva’s shadow. Alexander and Kirk were determined to struggle.

Leona only had a few seconds to choose.

Alexander hated it. What did you do to me, Leo? That I’m forcing you to choose between dying or watching me die? What the fuck did I do to deserve this? He shut his eyes. What did any of us do to deserve this? He said to Kirk, accepting, “Thanks. I guess.”

Kirk nodded, accepting. “I’d rather die standing.”

“Or eaten.”

“Yeah, that too.”

The Wolva appeared, seeing the remaining three of its prey. Alexander found Leona there; she was on the edge of staying, but he knew better, he knew her enough that she would run in the end. It was a selfish desire, one that would ruin him, but he wanted to see her face—no matter the tears—one last time.

As Leona began to leave, as the Wolva stepped forward and Kirk raised his fist, a glass pane shattered.

A dagger flew through and stuck itself in the Wolva’s neck.

“Ohohoho, I caught a big one!” said a haughty voice. Alexander matched it with a face, a face he didn’t recognize. A man no more than a year or two older than him, wild and bold whitish-blue hair, and eyes wide, red, possessing an eternal exburence of his life. He was born wicked, having all canines as teeth.

The man stood with three levitating daggers surrounding him, wearing comfortable clothes—slacks, a hoodie and a t-shirt underneath—and he grinned. “Oi, nobodies, get outta the way. It took me ten minutes to find an A-Rank this good, and I’m gonna be a hero for saving you. You’re welcome.”

The Wolva saw him and hissed. It was challenged. That man could challenge it.

Alexander did what was natural.

Carn, Predator of Predators

Rank: A19

Affiliation: None

Power: A19

Constitution: A11

Agility: S4

Magick: S3

Carn cackled. “I know you’re impressed, White Eyes. Now, stand back and watch a real Slayer at work.”

[Slayer Carn “Predator of Predators” has entered combat]