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89.47% Resident Evil: Vengeance / Chapter 51: The Werewolf of Mist Springs

Chapter 51: The Werewolf of Mist Springs

June 2, 2015, 8:54pm- Mist Springs, California

A calm night. A slight breeze rustles through the mountain trees. The air is refreshingly cool after a long day of summer heat. The full moon in the sky paints everything in silver. Two men with backpacks, filled to the brim with various things, hike along a trail. Various bugs and birds can be heard going about their business in the trees and bushes around them.

"Feels great to finally get away from the miss',"

"I'm sure they're thinking the same thing bout us,"

The two of them start laughing like hyenas as they continue their trek. They finally reach a nice open area large enough to set up their tents. Taking off their backpacks fills their back with relief after carrying them for hours. They make a little campfire and set up their tents. Sitting on the cool dirt floor, they roast marshmallows and make some smores.

"Reminds me of when we were kids,"

"Tastes as good as I remembered,"

"Take it easy, you're burning through the whole damn bag!"

"I cam't help mehselff,"

"Can you at least stop talking with your mouth full?"

"...Sorry. That better?"

"Better,"

"..."

"..."

"Hey, remember those crazy stories we'd tell each other?"

"What? The 'scary' ones about witches and goblins?"

"Yeah, those ones!"

"Don't tell me you want to talk about those,"

"Of course, ya big baby. It's tradition, besides, I found a lot of good ones,"

"...Fine. Whad'ya got?"

"Now, I haven't actually read any of these, I just picked the ones I thought had cool titles, so bare with me here. I got, the Witch, of the Willows. What, Really, Happened to Raccoon City. Why You Never Go, To the Swamp at Night. My Encounter with Mothman. And, Always Carry a Silver Bullet,"

"I gotta say, those all sound really shitty,"

"Aw come on man, just pick one,"

"Alright, alright...how about...the silver bullet one,"

"Alright...Ahem...It was a normal night like any other night. I was sitting in my room, huddled up in my bed reading a good book, until I got interrupted by my dog suddenly barking. My dog was quite the talker, but I had never heard my dog like this before. She was barking very aggressively, snarling almost, as if trying to scare something away. Finding this a bit odd, I got up and walked to the living room where she was at. All her fur was standing up, and she was showing her teeth, I've never seen her like this before. She was barking at something through the glassdoors leading out into the backyard.

My parents called out, asking what was going on, and I replied telling them our dog was just barking at something outside. I couldn't see anything due to how dark it was, and it didn't help that I left my glasses on my nightstand. What I did next was the dumbest thing I ever did and I still regret doing it to this day. I ignored the sinking feeling in my stomach, and my dog's warnings, and walked up to the doors, up to the switch for the back light. When I flicked it on-"

The sound of a twig snapping in the distance cuts him off. It sounded no more than a few yards away.

"When I flicked it on, that's when I saw it. A massive, towering creature covered in dark fur. It stood up on hind legs and slightly hunched it, like a person, but it wasn't, it couldn't have been. I couldn't make out the shape of its head, but I will never forget its eyes, and its teeth. The eyes were a sickly yellow, and the pupils were small and narrow, like a wolves'. The teeth were massive, all sharp as knives, sitting in rows like in a dog's snout. I immediately screamed as my dog started barking even more. My parents came running, my father with his gun and they both saw the thing I was staring at.

We all stood there, frozen in terror as we watched the thing quickly take off into the night. After that my father got a shotgun, and made sure to buy silver bullets. Though we never speak of it, there's some comfort in knowing I wasn't the only one who saw that, thing. I think the scariest thing is, I live in an urban neighborhood, there's no forests for miles, so what on earth was that creature doing in our backyard? I've tried to forget this memory, but it won't go away, and now it haunts my dreams ever since a couple days ago when I swore I saw two glowing yellow orbs in the far end of my backyard,"

"Man, that's a load of bull,"

"I thought it as pretty good. What else should we-"

"It's getting late man, let's just call it a night,"

"You baby. Hehehe...I guess it's for the best, last thing I need is to wake up from your screaming when you get a nightmare and piss yo self,"

"I was eight,"

"We both were,"

As they lay down in their tents, it's hard not to notice how quiet the forest has gotten. Nothing but the crackling of the campfire can be heard. The unnatural silence makes it hard to not feel slightly uneasy.

Crunch.

The sound of leaves being stepped on breaks the quiet, for only a second, and then it grows quiet once more, growing louder.

"Hey, Charles, ya up?"

"..."

"...Charles?"

He lays in his tent, wrapped up in his blanket, his heart starting to pound in his chest. The sound of something being torn open is quickly followed by a blood-curdling scream. The hiker practically jumps out of his tent and looks over at his friend's only to see a large blobby shadow inside it as the tent starts shaking.

"Charles?!" The hiker exclaims as he runs over and sees a large hole torn open in the back side of the tent. Inside the tent, a man with no shirt is on his knees, hunched over, his head above Charles' neck. Blood is trailing down it onto the ground below. The man is shaking his head like a wild beast tearing at its prey as Charles screams in agony. The horrific sight stuns the hiker, but he manages to regain control of himself and grabs his gun. He shoots the man, hitting him in the shoulder. The man freezes for a second, before lifting his head up and looking up at the hiker.

His eyes are feral, and filled with hunger. He glares at the hiker, baring his blood-covered teeth. As he stands up, the hiker shoots him in the chest. He's completely unfazed by it and proceeds to thrust a hand around the man's throat, gripping it tightly. The huker drops his gun and tries to break free of the crazed man's grip, but is unable to, forced to stare him in the eyes. The hiker's heart is practically beating out of his chest, he can feel the vain in his neck pressing against the man's hand with every pulse.

After an eternity the man lets go, and then knocks him unconscious with a swift punch.

Everything goes black.

The hiker wakes up, as if from a bad nightmare, only to realize that it wasn't a nightmare. It was real. He sees Charles' tent, the back part torn up. And Charles' corpse sitting inside, the neck looking like a wild animal had torn it apart or something. The sight makes the hiker back away until he bumps into a tree.

"You're one hundred percent sure that's what happened?"

"I swear, that's what happened? He was my best friend! You really think I would kill him?! You've seen the body right?! Does that look like something I'd do?!"

"Alright, alright, calm down,"

The hiker sits at the bar, chugging down his second mug.

"Another," He says as he slams the empty mug down onto the bar.

"I think you've had enough,"

The door to the bar opens up and a man with dark brown hair walks inside. He sits down at the bar.

"Can I get a water and a, club sandwich?" The man asks.

The hiker glances over at the man, and just seeing the man from the side, brings flashbacks of that night. Gasping for air. The fire in the back. The man's glare.

"Y-You…" The hiker mumbles as he quickly becomes more sober.

"Excuse me?" The man asks as he turns to the hiker with a raised eyebrow, "Have we met somewhere?"

"You...you were there…"

"...Where?" The hiker draws his gun.

"I-I know what you are,"

"Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Terry!" The bartender exclaims.

"Let's just put the gun down," The man says, "We both know it won't do any good. I just came for some water and a sandwich," Terry looks at the guy, seeing no trace of fear in his eyes, unnerving him.

"Terry, give me the gun, you're drunk,"

"...Like hell I will," He replies as he puts his gun away, "Just get me another one,"


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