Hesitating again, loath to do what he knew he must, the wolf lowered its jaws toward the face of the Russian immigrant to tear away at the features of the corpse.

*      *      *

Mel held down the trigger of the flame-thrower, engulfing the egrigor until the wall behind the monster was on fire.   As the flaring paint added to the gas flames, for a few moments it seemed as though the flame-thrower would defeat the egrigor.

Then slowly the egrigor began to advance toward the two policemen again, impervious to the flames, which were almost roasting Mel and Terry.

“Whatever you do, don’t let it past you!” ordered Mel.   Although neither man knew how they were supposed to stop the egrigor.

The egrigor reached the door to Bear’s room.   Although the flame-thrower had run out of gas, Mel Forbes stood blocking its way.   A large man — over one hundred and ninety centimetres tall and well muscled — Mel hoped that he somehow might be physically a match for the monster.

But the egrigor grabbed Mel by one arm and lifted him easily off his feet.   Then it disdainfully threw Mel down the corridor, where the big man crashed against the wall a metre off the ground.

Terry Blewett stared in amazement as the egrigor easily swung Mel through the air.   He grimaced, feeling sick to the stomach as Mel crashed into the wall and slid down to lie in a lifeless looking heap on the floor.

As the alarm started to blare on the ward, the egrigor roared its rage at Terry.   When the terrified constable refused to step aside, the monster grabbed him also and threw him down the corridor after Mel.

Unlike the sergeant, however, Terry landed before hitting the wall.   Although he badly sprained his left ankle and fell screaming to the floor.   He was unable to do anything but watch in horror as the egrigor tore the door right off its hinges to start into the ward after Bear Ross who was now defenceless.

*      *      *

The black wolf struggled not to throw up in disgust as he started to rip apart the facial features of the corpse.   Up until now he had never used his powerful jaws against any creature living or dead.   But he knew that if he let his revulsion win out he would seal the doom of his best friend.

Steeling himself as best he could, the black wolf continued to hack at the face of the corpse until there was no flesh left on the grinning skull.

After a moment’s indecision, the wolf spread his mouth wide over the skull and began to clamp his jaws shut like a great nutcracker, straining to burst an oversized nut.

*      *      *

‘Oh, my God, I’ve got to help him!’ thought Terry Blewett as the egrigor raced into Bear’s private room.

Straining overhead he managed to reach the wooden handrail a metre up the wall.   He pulled himself to a standing position, but the second that his left foot touched the ground he screamed and collapsed to the floor again.

Deciding that it was easier to crawl than to walk, he started inching down the corridor on his hands and knees, almost crying from frustration.   ‘Too slow, damn it, it’s taking too damn long!’ Terry thought.   He knew that even if he had some way to stop the egrigor, there was no way that he could reach Bear Ross’ bedroom before the monster had slaughtered Bear.

Hearing an unearthly scream ring out from the bedroom, Terry’s bladder released, flooding the front of his trousers, as he thought, ‘My God, it’s over, he’s dead, poor Bear is dead!’

But then the scream rang out a second time, almost deafeningly loud, despite the noise of the alarm, which it had to compete with.

As the shrieking went on Terry thought, ‘No human larynx could make that kind of noise!’

And confirming the thought, the egrigor staggered out of the private room, clutching at its face and shrieking one long, continuous shrilling shriek as it lurched back into the corridor.

Reeling around like a wino the egrigor headed toward the stairwell.

Terry Blewett continued to claw his way across the floor toward Bear’s room, where he saw the policeman sleeping comatose, seemingly unhurt by the egrigor this time.

*      *      *

The skull flexed against the black wolf’s jaws like a rubber ball, refusing to burst.   Fighting the bile, which threatened to rise in his throat, the wolf continued to bite down.   Until finally the skull shattered, spraying him with a mixture of bone shards and brain matter.

As the skull finally burst open, the black wolf heard a deafening shriek of pain and horror.

He jumped away from the corpse in terror, thinking at first that the scream had emanated from it.

But as he leapt away, the black wolf saw the egrigor standing in the doorway to the freezer room, clutching at its face.   Although it had not physically changed at the desecration, the black wolf recalled Professor Bukharin saying that it was still connected to the corpse of Kostyn Pavolich and would feel the pain of any injuries inflicted upon the corpse.

The black wolf forced himself to start forward to inflict more desecration on the Russian’s corpse.   But before he could do so, the egrigor let out another unearthly shriek….

And exploded.

With a sound like a stick of dynamite igniting, the egrigor burst apart into a great cloud of blinding, phosphorescent dust.

Dust, which filled the room, choking the black wolf.

The wolf started to stumble toward the door to fresh air, but the phosphorescent mist quickly dimmed, then rapidly evaporated into the air, leaving behind no sign that the egrigor had ever been there.

After one last look at the mangled corpse of Kostyn Pavolich, the black wolf raced out through the back door of the morgue, to throw up in the small car park.

Then he started to race through the night, knowing that it would take at least an hour or two to run the wolf out of his system, so that he could transform back into Ernie Singleton.   He also knew that he had to return to the morgue to pick up his tools, torn clothing and most importantly his Range-Rover, or else the desecration of the corpse would quickly be traced back to him.

*      *      *

At the hospital, half a dozen burly interns and male nurses finally responded to the sound of the alarm on the second floor.

While one of them checked that Bear Ross was all right, two of them helped Terry Blewett to the lift to take him downstairs to have his twisted ankle attended to.   The others went to check on Mel Forbes, who was still out cold.

“How is he?” asked Terry, afraid of what he might be told.

“He’s okay,” said a male nurse, “just out cold.   When he comes to he’ll have one daddy of a migraine for a few days, but after that he should be all right.”

*      *      *

It was less than an hour before dawn when Ernie returned to the morgue, naked in human form.   He quickly collected his tools and clothing and headed the Range-Rover in the direction of Merridale, greatly relieved that he had managed to get away without being seen by anyone.

THE END