1 The Hunter, Hunted

Natalia knew her life wasn't one that most people would call "typical."

Sure, she had a nice house - well, it was a rented apartment for now, but she dreamed to one day save enough to buy something of her own. Her car was pretty generic, but nothing too shabby and she certainly wasn't hanging her head in shame while driving it around. And her family was just that - a family. Sure, things were a little terse with her mother, but spending time with her brother was always a laugh, and her father was always eager to hear of her latest endeavours with work.

But today's event - if she could call it that - was one she wasn't quite sure she'd be telling her family in a hurry. Not that she wouldn't love to tell them, of course. But, even as a werewolf hunter with five years of experience and a natural calling for the job on her side, Natalia knew that there was no getting out of this one.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she picked up on the sound of pawprints, padding her way. She wasn't even supposed to be working now - she'd taken a day off, a rare feat indeed when your job was one that kept the entire city safe. And, ever since Michael's death at the fangs of werewolves six weeks ago, no one else had been foolish enough to step up and fill the position (even despite the staggering value of a werewolf pelt). So, Natalia had been on the job alone.

Not that she minded that, of course. At heart, Natalia was a loner - always had been, really. Sure, she had a couple of close friends, and it was great to spend time with them; still, while her friends were eager to head out for a coffee or spend some time at the lake, Natalia had other matters on her mind.

Wolf hunting.

But today was something quite new. The air was perfectly still, and there was hardly a sound to be heard - other than the gentle tap-tap-tap of the wolf's paws behind her. She'd injured one of the wolves' number last night, and in the past, a severe injury had always been enough to scare them away for at least a week or so. So Natalia had banked on - but then, considering the creature stalking her now, it seemed like that wasn't the case.

She had her wolf hunting equipment with her, of course - a werewolf hunter could never be too careful. But this single animal had caught her off guard, and has masterfully steered her into this tight alleyway.

That was the problem with hunting werewolves, of course; they were still human on the inside, and had the brains to match (if not the morals).

And so, Natalia found herself in this difficult position. Wherever this wolf was, it was almost impossible to track. She just couldn't sense it - and nor could her thermal imaging camera. Without that, on a night with almost no moon, she was pretty much a sitting duck.

But she could still hear - for all the good it would do her. From the sound of the pawprints, the creature couldn't have been overly big. Not compared to some of the werewolves she'd faced in the past, which could easily stand as tall as her elbow. But that didn't make it any less dangerous; in fact, Natalia reasoned, this was one of two things. Either it was a young wolf, looking to get its first kill - or it was a wolf so fleet of foot that it barely made a sound at all when it walked.

That was when she felt it. A delicate breath of air across her ear, so gentle that anyone else would simply have mistaken it for a breeze. But Natalia knew the smell of werewolf breath better than most, and it was then she knew it was too late.

The werewolf was nowhere to be seen, but she could feel it, hear its breaths over the still air. She moved her hand slowly to her waist, ready to grasp her baton. One clean blow to a werewolf's paws - its connection to the earth - and it would be downed for a few moments, just long enough to dispose of it. But she needed to see where the paws were to achieve this, and it was a tactic that required immense precision. And she couldn't see a thing.

A low growl sounded in her ears, and - to her shame - Natalia squeaked. But, as she attempted to stumble backwards, she felt her shirt snag on something; and, as she continued to pull away, she saw it ripping, as if caught by an invisible hook. And then, out of nowhere, she felt the most overwhelming pain in her side; numerous sharp marks had pierced her shirt and, from the rapidly growing red patch, her own muscle.

She collapsed to the floor, crying out in pain. But that was when she saw it - the bloodied imprint of a muzzle in mid air. Its nostrils flared and the mouth bared itself to show glistening white teeth. And then it struck, moving suddenly towards her as something oddly sweet - a paw, perhaps? - landed over her mouth and nose.

Natalia flared, kicking and screaming. Or she tried - but even she knew it was fruitless. Even the smallest werewolf would have weighed the same as her or more.

Within moments, Natalia felt herself begin to become lightheaded. She continued to kick at where she hoped the beast's body was, but to no avail, her struggles becoming more feeble. And then she realised what that sweet, seductive smell was.

Chloroform.

How a werewolf had gotten hold of such a chemical, she had no idea, but she could only assume it had coated its paw in the stuff before attacking her. It was a schemed attack - so much more than the werewolves normally conducted. From her experience, werewolves relied on their own brute strength, and it was their stubbornness that was often their downfall. But, it seemed, this one had recognised that too.

But by the time she'd realised, Natalia knew it was already too late to back out. And, all of a sudden, her body went limp, and she only vaguely recognised the searing pain as her body was jolted around before she slipped away into unconsciousness.