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Post by Arai on Oct 23, 2007 16:28:33 GMT -5
Arai had turned, shaking her head visciously to shake off the effects of the demons in her brain. Now she stood, proud and tall, on both hind legs, her broad head with its keenly pointed muzzle towering at least a foot over Cameron's head. Streaks of red stained her cinnamon coat with dark black streaks, causing the fur to clump together. A few cuts had begun to heal, but the strain of the silver bullets still in her body was beginning to take its toll. Her nose was dry, a sure sign of sickness, and she variated between feeling like she was burning up to wanting to grow a thicker coat. "I have no quarrel with you, demons!" she snarled angrily, the Arai side in control for now, "Leave!" Her light golden eyes glared into his, challenging the demons in their brightening intensity. She would not die, not like this.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Oct 23, 2007 22:13:59 GMT -5
Cameron smiled and laugh as he looked at Arai. Fear, fear of death. He could smell it in her and it was making him crazy. It was charging him up, healing every part of his body, making him stronger. He didn't have to give her illusions, she was already scared and he loved it. He loved the feeling, the taste. He snarled a bit cocking the gun in his hands as he looked at Arai, "But i have a quarrel with you and i wish for blood tonight." Cameron said smiling. There was simply no way this demon was going to relinquish control. He slowly raised his hand and aimed it at Arai, "Goodbye werewolf." He said and fired three shots towards her, but his fingers stopped after that, something was stopping him. d**n...Cameron was pesky!
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Post by Arai on Oct 23, 2007 22:21:18 GMT -5
The giant wolf snarled back, black lips lifted above angry white teeth. She had no time for a reply; this demon was doing the classic movie lines she knew so well. When he said goodbye, she knew what would follow and dropped. No ducked, not crouched, but all out fell to the ground, flat on her chest. One of the bullets nicked her ears, causing a rumbling growl to escape her throat. For some reason, the demon stopped shooting. This was her opening. Paws gripping traction on the shifting sands, she aimed low and threw herself towards his feet, claws digging into his calves as her powerful mass simply bowled him over.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Oct 23, 2007 22:25:12 GMT -5
Cameron was already bulked up now, but not all of his full potential was reached, however, he still had enough to take down an already injured werewolf. Cameron no longer had control and Cameron fired two more rounds into Arai from point blank range as he fell. Once he reached the ground though, he moved his hand down and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. His new strength had increased his old by about ten and he lifted her up and through her back down the sand dune and stood up, his legs bleeding but he showed no pain and didn't even seem to notice.
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Post by Arai on Oct 23, 2007 22:41:53 GMT -5
As she felt his meaty weight under her, the wolf took over again. Two more shots; one more wound. In the confusion of the fall and the ensuing impact, one shot missed her, despite it being so close. The other, following its brother not even a second later, dug a deep furrow across her cheek, though thankfully it exited. The silver burned deep, enraging her even further. Then she found herself being lifted by demonic strength like a mere pup and flung down. Her body dragged a deep furrow in the sand as she slid a few feet on her side, eyes closed to block out sand. Slowing, she stopped, her body limp and paws loosely curled under her stomach. For now she was unconscious; the silver bullets and all the action had taken its toll. Her pink tongue lolled out of her half-open mouth, teeth still slightly bared in a snarl. Blood streaks ran through the sand, marking her short skid down the dune. A few drops of blood dripped down her face, falling warm and quickly cooling on her fur. The moon hung like a mocking symbol of power and a futile hope for control, cold as always, offering no reprive.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Oct 24, 2007 7:02:15 GMT -5
Cameron watched as Arai no longer moved before him. He could see the steady rise and fall of her chest and therefore knew that she had not yet been killed. He smirked as he walked towards her lifeless body. He still had one bullet left and it was going into her head. Cameron walked to her, kicking some dirt onto her fur as he kicked her side with satisfaction of a job well done. He then aimed the gun at her head, but stopped and didn't fire. Let me do this foolish human. There was a pause, Cameron's finger shaking, I will beat you fool!. However, Cameron still didn't fire. Die Then Cameron fired but his hand moved to far to the right and inside of hitting her head, he fired into left shoulder."d**n," He exclaimed. He backed a few feet away, "No matter, you will die anyway." He said, turning, letting Arai lay on the ground dying as he moved to the helicopter to make his escape.
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Post by Arai on Oct 24, 2007 14:01:25 GMT -5
A jolt of pain thrust her back into consciousness as she lay unmoving in the sand. Pain sung through her body, and the silver burned like the fires of hell itself from which the demons came. Her muscles twitched spasmodically from the poisonous metal in her body, reacting to it quite badly. It did not help that she was so relatively new to being a werewolf; she had no resistance against this new threat. Her torn ear, pressed into the sand, heard and felt the footsteps receding. Male, human, definitely Cameron, or at least his body. But she was still alive, though he had left her for dead. Painfully, she managed to roll on her stomach, tucking her clawed feel underneath herself. Sleep was all she wanted, but she refused to succumb to the darkness again. Somehow she knew with a deadly certainty that going into that sleep meant never waking to see the dawn. For once, Arai and her wolven side worked together, their combined willpower and strength keeping her alive. Her other wounds, finally given reprive from the bashing they had taken, slowly began to heal, the blood ceasing to seep from her veins. But the wounds to her legs, and now her shoulder, did not heal, hindered by the noxious silver bullets buried deep in the muscle. Arai knew what she had to do, but she didn't know if she had the courage and the strength to do what was necessary to live. Slowly, her muzzle contorting in pain and anguish, she extended her forepaw. It was not quite like a wolf paw; the fingers were longer, the claws sharper. Now they worked in her favor as she felt down her back leg. Her probing touch found a hole that burned with silver, paining her deeply. Snorting deeply through her dry nose, she gathered up the courage and struck, digging her claw deep into the wound and ripping outwards. Arai snapped and growled in pain, but finally a silver drop of blood fell from the wound. A single silver bullet buried it's head in the sand, covered in dark red blood. However, her pain did not lessen; she had at least half a dozen more bullets to go before she could properly heal. Panting heavily, she closed her eyes, then opened them again. One down, six to go.
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