The dark-coloured vehicle slowly made it’s way through the quiet, winding roads of Powys, Wales.  Inside the vehicle the two men both dressed in black suits and wearing dark glasses barely spoke to one another.  They both knew time was running out and both were anxious about the outcome of the situation they now found themselves in.  They also knew that should they fail to procure what was necessary by tonight, then they might as well just sit back until tomorrow morning and wait for their executions to be carried out by…’them’.  

Eventually it was the 79 year old passenger who broke the heavy and stifling silence…

“Warum, John? Warum jetzt und warum uns?” he moaned pathetically.  

The 52 year old man in the drivers seat, raised an eyebrow at his elder companion in puzzlement.  He then sighed wearily before answering with more than just a hint of contempt…

“Look, Professor!” he replied in clipped tones worthy of an English aristocrat, “You know I don’t speak any bloody German. If you’re going to converse with me I’d really appreciate it if you dropped the ‘Johnny Foreigner speak’, alright?”

The older man glared at the driver and bared his teeth as his lips curled into a snarl.  ”Kleine Englische Scheiße” he growled quietly, just loud enough for the driver to hear.  In a sheer exhibition of bad temper, the brakes were slammed on, the car screeched to a halt and the old man gave a cry of shock as his companion turned and gripped him by the lapels of his suit, bodily dragging the Professor towards him.  Their faces were so close together now that their noses were almost touching, the drivers’ face was contorted into a mask of sheer hatred.

“I might not speak foreign – but I don’t need a ruddy dictionary to tell me what THAT means!” the Englishman spat.  ”I’m warning you, knock it off, Metzger – before I think of something real funny to do with your miserable carcass – damn you!”  In disgust the driver threw the elderly man back into his seat before opening the window and then reaching into his suit pocket to retrieve a small silver case.  He took a Marlboro and lit it, took a long drag from the cigarette as he replaced the silver case in his pocket then fell backwards into his seat with a sigh of relief.  After one or two more long drags on his cigarette, he turned to his passenger and growled, “I bloody hate you, you old bastard!  If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have to be here now in this insane predicament…”

“Ach!  I know…” Professor Metzger replied, “…und I am sorry, John – das is life!  However, you did have a choice – you could have taken the ‘other’ way out of this…”

“Yeah – just think – I could have had my extremities ripped off, been disembowelled and then nailed upside down to the side of a sodding stables and left to bleed to death – just like Jerome!  Some friggin’ choice, Professor…”  The younger man rested his head against the wheel and his shoulders shuddered spasmodically as he began to sob at the memory of his brothers’ brutal killing that he had witnessed just over three years ago.  The Professor didn’t really know how to answer that so instead he decided to just sit in silence for a while.  He would let John Spence cry to relieve himself of some of the pain from the memories and mental scars that could never be healed – not in this lifetime, at any rate.  After all, it’s not everyday that you witness your entire immediate family massacred in front of your very eyes.  Ach, ja, Professor Metzger  reflected, I remember it so well…John’s people never stood a chance.  It was a family get-together at his parents’ Manor House in Cheshire to celebrate (ironically enough) the 49th birthday of John and his twin brother Jerome.  It was meant to be a surprise.  As it was, John and I were late due to extra duties at the laboratory and then his car breaking down.  In the end the car was towed to the nearest garage and we had jumped the next train, catching a cab the rest of the way to the Spence Manor House where we found the remains.  The murdering scumbags had done it on purpose!  They had found out that John was working with me and…  Professor Metzger shuddered.  If John and I had been on time…

He left the thought unfinished – it really wasn’t worth thinking about.  John Spence’s entire immediate family – including his wife and two daughters – had been wiped out in a scene akin to the aftermath of an unholy bacchanalian orgy-come-bloodbath.  Not only that – they had all been butchered by the very ones whose activities the Professor’s research had been aimed at putting a stop to.   

“Amy…oh, God…Amy…”  sobbed John.  

His voice was by now barely a whisper as his tortured mind relived the horrors of finding his wife’s corpse.  Even in death she was a vision of beauty, an angel.  From the arrangement of her clothing it was obvious that she had been horribly violated – but despite this – dear, sweet Amy had looked as though she was merely staring at the ceiling.  It was only when John had dashed to her petite body – which had been strewn across the blood-soaked bed and attempted to lift her up towards him – that the full implications of what had happened that night finally came into being.  Hoping against all hope that she may still be alive, he sat on the bed next to her and put his arms beneath her shoulders and back, lifting her towards him.  As her body fell lifelessly against his chest and shoulders, though tears blurred his vision John suddenly realised he was being stared at.  By Amy’s head, which had not moved from it’s position on the bed……the bastards had hacked it clean off!  Presumably with the billhook which he had suddenly realised was strangely (or perhaps even symbolically?) embedded  in the wall above the bedstead.  John was so dazed, confused and terrified that he had no idea what to do next.  It was a few moments later that the Professor found him slumped on the floor of that room amidst the carnage in a total state of stupefaction.  Professor Metzger decided that it would be foolish to stay – he had to get his laboratory assistant away from that place of wanton slaughter for the sake of his remaining sanity – and also,  they might just come back to finish the job.  

It was a month or two later, after the Professor had nursed John back to a state of semi-normality at his own private residence (where his private laboratory was also based) that he had the terrible task of breaking some even worse news to him.  He simply picked up a bottle of premium brand whiskey one night from the drinks cabinet and poured himself a large one.  He read the front headlines of the newspaper he was holding and drank deeply as he pondered on how he would explain the worrying new developments to his unknowing assistant.  He didn’t have long to wait as John entered the room a few moments later then saw the look on Professor Metzger’s face and asked if everything was okay.  In reply, the Professor gestured to a nearby set of chairs and said, “Ach!  I think you should better sit down, John – there’s something  - something I must talk with you about…”  As they sat down together, the Professor poured out two large glasses of whiskey and set them on the nearby lounge table saying, “I think you will need this in eine kleine Minute”  After a few moments the Professor decided it would be best to go for the direct approach  rather than prolong the agony for his colleague.  He said, “John – please look at this…I – I am sorry, mein liebster freund…” and simply passed the newspaper to the puzzled younger man.  Within seconds of reading the newspaper headlines and the first short paragraph of the attached article, John looked as if he had been hit with a sledgehammer.  ”N-no” he whispered hoarsely, “B-but it’s n-not true…“  He stood up unsteadily, the newspaper clenched tightly in one hand.  He grabbed the glass of whiskey and drank it in one long, continuous gulp before dazedly allowing the glass to slip through his fingers and shatter on the parquet floor below.  ”John?” the Professor queried after which he let out a cry of  surprise as he stepped forward to catch his hapless assistant as he plummeted towards the ground in a dead faint.  The offending newspaper fluttered out of John Spence’s clutches, falling face upwards and proudly displaying in large type for all the world to see, the one sensational headline ‘Cheshire killer John Spence still at large’.  

It was one thing living with the death of your loved ones – but quite another to end up on the run as the principle suspect of that crime – especially, if you happened to be innocent!

Professor Metzger’s reminiscing was brought to an end by the emotionally strained voice of his colleague in the present day as he simply asked, “Professor?”

“Ja?”

“Professor – I – I didn’t mean what I said!” John replied, wiping the tears from his eyes,  ”I-I’ve been under a lot of stress lately…I’m s-sorry…”

The elder man sighed and put his arm around his assistants shoulder and patted him in an attempt to comfort him.  ”Ja, ja!  I know…we both have mein freund…but now we have a job to complete.  Only then can we put into practice phase two of our work – and begin to stop these Mörderischer Abschaum – ach! - these murderous scum!”  John seemed to have recovered from his emotional state and pulled himself together a little.  He looked over at the Professor, his face a mask of serious intent.

“Have you got the guns – and are they filled with the new batch of bio weapon bullets that we finalised last night?”

“Ja, I have – und here is yours” came the reply as Metzger gingerly handed over a handgun to his colleague who examined it closely before sliding it into the left-sided, underarm holster that was discretely hidden under his suit.  John Spence then took a long, final drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled the remaining smoke from his lungs before flicking it out of the window.  He then pressed the automatic button to close his window and as he restarted the car engine he turned to face the Professor.

“Okay, Prof!” he smirked humourlessly, “Let’s give these bastards something to think about!”

They  had  been following the map to the requested meeting place – a small, abandoned warehouse at the bottom of Silver Street in Brecon, which took about another half hour to find.  Once in the disused car park attached to the place, John parked their souped-up Daimler and they got out and surveyed their surroundings.  Specifically the formidable looking building that towered before them.  It had an ominous feel to it…there was something…

“They’re playing games with us, Professor!  They’re watching our every move – I can feel it!”

“Ja.  They are doing this.  Although, I believe they intend to be rid of us for good this time, John…”

“You mean this is like a set-up…a trap?  Why?  I mean why now, specifically?”

“Before we were as annoying specks of dirt and of no real significance to them, just another petty source of amusement for their cruel minds to toy with…”

“Okay – so what’s changed, Prof?”

“We have completed our research, we know too much about them – but most of all – we have now become a true danger to them.  This they now know – and this is why we must be made to disappear…“

“Okay…let’s make our way through the main entrance and get this show on the road.  Let’s do this!”

These words said, both men readied their guns and began to walk towards the old warehouse.

Some seventeen minutes later it was all over.

A second storey window shattered as several anthropomorphic figures of varying sizes burst through it and on landing on the ground they fled from the immediate area into the vicinity of an alleyway further along Silver Street.  Within a few seconds of this, the front door of the warehouse burst open as as two human figures staggered out into the rays of the late afternoon sun.  The younger of the two men was hurriedly limping, carrying the elder man over his shoulder.  Two grotesque-looking figures also ran out  of the warehouse main door directly behind them hissing and snarling, eager for the blood of these men of science.  The words of their Leader’s speech that had took place in the warehouse prior to the two men’s arrival burned deep in their minds…

“These men have now become a force to be reckoned with – a force we can no longer ignore!  They may already hold the key to the complete extermination of our species.  I do not care how it is done – break their necks, eviscerate them, rip them to bloody pieces – I WANT THEM DEAD – and I mean NOW!!!”   

As the two figures were almost upon them, teeth bared and their countenances cloaked with vicious, primeval snarls, the leg John had injured gave way and as he fell to his knees he heard the sound of their rapid footfalls.  In that moment he turned his head and realised he could not outrun them.  He knew he only had time to possibly shoot one of them before the other literally made mincemeat out of him.  In one swift movement he twisted his body as he fell backwards, dropping Professor Metzger to his left as he fell…then time seemed to become distorted.  Mere seconds seemed to run into an eternity…

“Oh, bloody -” his sentence began as he felt the kickback from the gun in his right hand.

The bio weapon laced bullet began to take it’s pre-determined path towards the foremost anthropomorph.

There was a shrill yelp as the bullet hit it’s mark causing the entity to implode internally, followed by an extremely messy explosion of it’s body matter all over the place…before the explosion the other being had already side-stepped and began it’s leap towards John.

As bloodied chunks of viscera, mucus and bone fragments began to rain down John attempted to fire his weapon a second time…only to find time had suddenly decided to speed up again and he was flat on his back, his gun had  been painfully smashed out of his hand, the anthropomorph was now pinning him down by the shoulders and pulled back it’s head, flashing it’s teeth as it’s mouth widened and it moved in for the kill.  At this point John closed his eyes…

“- hell!”  John finally finished speaking the sentence he’d started earlier.  That’s strange! he thought, I’m still alive?

On opening his eyes – he noted that he was still pinned down by the entity, it’s jaws still open wide a mere inch and a quarter from his throat.  What the hell’s going on? he thought puzzled.  Then he heard a quiet chuckle coming from his left.  The Professor was half-propped up using his right arm and seemed to be retrieving an empty syringe from the right flank of John’s assailant.  Professor Metzger slowly and shakily stood up and with a huge effort he shoved the paralysed enemy off his dumbfounded assistant.  As soon as it’s body hit the floor, the entity shattered into tiny little bits – not unlike glass or crystal.

“John?  You are okay, ja?”

“Professor?  What the hell did you just do?  What was in that syringe?” John started – only to be stopped by Metzger holding up his hand in a bid for his silence.

“It’s just eine kleine something I’ve been working on in my spare time” he smiled enigmatically.  ”Never really had time to test it…didn’t know if it is working…until now that is!”

“You really know how to make a man feel comfortable about these things, y’know, Prof?” John sighed.  He noted the blood streaming from the wound in Metzger’s head.  ”By the way old man – how’s your head doing?  That’s some damage you took there”

“Ja, ja!  Es ist nichts – it’s no problem, I have had worse.  Come – I will help you to the car.  We must get out of here and as soon as we are patched up…”

“Yes – I know!  We have to start phase two of our work and eradicate the rest of these bastards!”

The Professor nodded and hauled John painfully to his feet.  They hobbled to where they had parked the Daimler and got inside.  After a few snatched minutes of rest, Metzger got a spare first aid kit from under the passenger seat and as John smoked a Marlboro the Professor strapped up his assistant’s mangled leg as best as he could.  Then with the use of a wing mirror he attended his own wounds and finally entered the car.  John put the keys in the ignition and started the engine, he winced momentarily as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator as a slight twinge of pain shot through his leg.  The Daimler eventually pulled out of the car park and began to cruise off down Silver Street.  As the car reached a nearby alleyway, John noticed a small girl stood near the side of the road in a gingham dress.  He knew he’d seen that dress before…and on closer inspection he noticed the few flecks of dried blood on it’s hem.  He slowed the car to a complete halt after looking  into the alleyway and noting something else in the shadows.  John opened his car window about halfway and called out to the girl.  She began to approach the car and got within two feet of the half open window before John pulled out his gun and said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, “Stop right there! That’s far enough, thank you.”

The girl growled at him in an animalistic kind of way and glared at him with an eerie green sheen to her eyes, but did as she was ordered.  She looked at him in the same way that a hungry dog looks at a freshly-cut  piece of prime steak.

“Listen up – and listen well, as I’m only going to say this once” he said softly.  The girl cocked her head to one side as if to indicate that  she was indeed listening very carefully.

“I know what you – and the rest of your kin are.  I also know you murdered my entire family and snatched away everything in this world that I held dear to me, on a whim – just to get at the Professor and stop his research.  I have a message for you to take back to the remaining few survivors of your clan…”  

As the girl nodded attentively, John let loose a shot from his gun.  The girl gasped and ducked, then realised she wasn’t the intended target as from the depths of the alley there was a shrill and keening yelp.  It was quickly followed by the sounds of a muffled explosion and the scattering of a bloody shower of entrails, chunks of bone and various other half-charred fleshy chunks and viscera.  In horror she watched as he continued to point his weapon in her direction…

“You just go tell your scumbag clan that I’m fucking coming for them, bitch!”

The girl gulped and stepped slowly back a few paces away from the car then turned and fled down Silver Street and away from the scene as quick as her legs could carry her.  John closed his window and replaced his gun in his left-side shoulder holster.  The Professor smiled enigmatically – maybe even with a hint of pride – for his assistant’s actions.

“Friggin’ Shape-shifting Lycanthropes!” muttered John as he fired the Daimler’s engine into life once more and began the long, arduous journey back to Professor Metzger’s Laboratory.