Beasts: Reborn (REVAMPED)

Suddenly the smell of ocean waters, icy winds and sand was a foreign concept to them all.

They stood in a seemingly never ending valley of tall grass.

The thick verdant blades whispered sweet nothings as the winds blew, spinning and colliding the thick thunderclouds overhead.

"Well….. this is lame." Brink said.

"It's… empty." Ursula said as she looked around.

"So not a horde….." Trey noted.

"I wouldn't say that…" Claude commented.

"Why not?" Naz asked.

Claude's team turned to look back at Claude, who was looking at his hounds.

They all sniffed madly through the grass, caught between horrified snarls and more intense bouts of scenting.

"There was a lot of something here…. at some point." Claude said.

Before anyone could properly react to his dogs, Claude looked around. Slowly, everyone else did.

Even Prof. Brennan at the front of the line.

It didn't take long for someone to vocalize the confusion as they stood in the tall grass.

"Where's the system notification?"

"Gather round."

They all surrounded Prof. Brennan in the tall grass and grey skies. He looked like he was in his natural enviroment. An equally tall and foreboding presence trying to hide some immensity within.

They huddled close as he spoke.

"Tangents can be unpredictable. They can miss steps and spit out anomalies. Don't let it deter you. Perform what you know. Get the job done. You're all wondering why your System screens haven't given you the details of this Tangent, I am too. But that doesn't stop the job. Get out there and finish it. Find some answers while you're at it."

"Yes, Professor!"

Professor Brennan motioned for them to move out.

The students broke off into their teams. Like any new experience, the armored and weapon wielding students were hesitant.

For the most part.

Claude was among the hesitant.

Like most of his t—

"Hey! Samuel!" Claude yelled as the Dark Knight took off.

"It's Leon!" Brink said, "Don't blow his cove—"

"Shut the hell up." Ursula smacked the back of Brink's neck.

Claude took off, "We can't be down a man in here to start!"

"Oh come on!" Trey yelled, "We just got here!"

Claude didn't bother letting it be a discussion. He was hot on Samuel's heels. The knight was a steaming blur of cruel killing intent.

He wore black metal knights armor. Arthurian with Kumataiyan Samurai accents shown in his flat rectangular pauldron. The katana at his hip and the demonic visage splitting his mask into two parts were the most obvious.

But it was no time to gawk.

Claude sped up. He was close. Samuel's speed difference wasn't so different anymore. Claude reached out for him, a foot away. He could feel his heavy hot footfalls.

Inches.

The heat wafting off him was exhausting.

He touched the burning metal.

Frosty began barking savagely behind him. In the empty Tangent, it was stunning.

More importantly, it was changing. Changing into frantic yelps.

Something cackled.

To Claude's left. Too close, but unseen in the tall grass as he looked over and found a blur in the grass. Glowing eyes and dark skin. It was running too low to the ground.

In the scarce amount of adrenaline fueled seconds, Claude noted two things. The smell. Like wet dog.

The breaths. Heavy and looming from a set of lungs that could carry a creature for miles.

It was huffing. In tempo.

No. It was laughing.

"Get back!" Claude snapped at his hounds. It wasn't safe. Everything was wrong.

Claude lunged with his spear in an attempt to puncture the unknown entity. In a blur, the shape took off. Claude didn't miss a step— thanks to training with the dryads.

With his left hand, he manipulated the long grass, turning it into his weapon. The blades twisted and curled into thorny brambles, wrapping around the shape a dozen times over.

At the same time, with his right hand, he threw his warp-fire javelin.

The weapon sunk into tough flesh. Rich foul smelling blood hit the damp air and a quieted yelp ended the weird laughter. He hit the shape. Whatever it was.

With a forced down-flow of his mana, Claude's javelin was teleported back into his gloved hand. The heat from the imperfect runes had the blood already evaporating off the tip of the spear.

Slowly vanishing. Just like the creature in the grass.

"Fuck this!" Claude spun around and reached for Samuel in the distance.

The blades of long grass wrapped around him until he was falling and spewing dark-fire like a strangled demon.

A massive gust of wind blew past Claude, nearly knocking him to the ground as he stumbled forward.

Ursula rushed past Claude and tackled Samuel as if he wasn't already on the ground being swarmed by vines.

"STOP!" She roared and icy winds spun from her mouth, causing the flaming knight to turn into a ball of steam.

When the metaphorical dust settled, they all surrounded the two.

Samuel was unmoving. Like the remains of some undead Templar.

Until he activated his, (Shoulder Charge) skill from the ground, causing him to explode off th ground in the most physics defying way possible.

Ursula flew backward and landed on her back.

Samuel flipped in mid air and landed on his feet.

Immediately, the rest of the team held back Ursula as she lunged for Samuel with pure white eyes.

"Come on! See how many more times you can do that before I mash you inside your pretty little play suit you pus—"

"Breaker!" Claude said, "Hold on."

Samuel didn't make a break for it, so Claude hoped that was some sort of progress—

"You can't throw that thing any harder?" Samuel asked.

Claude turned to face the knight. "What?"

"You hit it. But barely…. What's the point of your senses if you can't capitalize on them?"

"Alright, dickhead. I probably would've been able to do better if I wasn't chasing you." Claude said angrily.

"Next time don't chase me. Chase a goal."

"My goal is the team surviving. So if you run again, then we chase. You don't have more stamina than me, Samuel. I'll run you down. Easily."

The two eyeballed eachother.

Naz smiled as she stood beside Claude.

"What was it. Did your nose tell you that?" Samuel asked, "My heat sense did nothing but tell me of its presence. It ran hot. Too hot. It can't be anything cold blooded. No kobolds or lizardfolk."

"I…. No. It was just dark and fast. It smelled like dog. Maybe a Gnoll." Claude said.

"Then we find the camps." Samuel replied.

"Right." Claude agreed awkwardly, "Gnoll's are tribal. They'll have a fence line where they can fly their colors somewhere. It would also explain Frosty's reaction."

"What?" Samuel, and everyone else said.

"My pitwolf. Well— all pitwolves hate Gnolls. It's a long…. And gross story." Claude said. "Anyways, we need to reorient ourselves. Let's go back the way we came and form a plan. If we stay around our allies, we have a better chance of uncovering this mystery safely."

Brink looked at Samuel, "You still need that jog, prince?"

Samuel began walking back, shoving his way past everyone.

Naz turned to Claude as he stepped aside to let Samuel pass. "It seems V has been teaching him the language of domination and submission."

"I doubt it."

"Then why is he listening?" Naz asked.

"Because he knows."

"Knows what?" Naz asked.

"This Tangent is very wrong. It's only been a few minutes and all traces of the other students are almost gone. They're tens of miles away. I can't smell them. It's like every step they took since leaving us was multiplied by ten. But ours wasn't. I don't know if that's earth element control or illusory magic. Either way, it's way beyond bronze rank."

Naz processed the information as they walked. "And the shape? The….. thing?"

Claude shook his head, "It's like it was a gho—"

All conversation ceased as a howl echoed across the tangent's valley landscape. With it came hideous winds that pushed aside the clouds, revealing a night sky illuminated by a massive full moon.

It came from the way Samuel was running, causing them all to turn in alarm.

Brink didn't have any psychotic remark. He simply swallowed loudly.

Claude gripped his spear tighter.

"That sound like a Gnoll?" Ursula asked.

"No." Samuel said.

"How would you k—"

"I've been hunted by Gnolls on every full moon for the past eight years. They don't howl. They roar…. Like lions. Whatever that was— whatever all this is, isn't Gnolls." Samuel replied.

"Ok. Let's create some distance and make a plan." Claude turned back around and it was already too late.

The beast was standing in their way, waiting, snarling, already war-torn and ready to reciprocate the carnage.

"Oh—!" Claude stumbled at the sight of it, falling onto his backside.

The others did as well, reacting in stunted gasps and aimed weapons.

Only to realize….

"It's dead…"

"It's a ….. werewolf." Claude mumbled.

They all marveled at the canine goliath.

Ursula helped Claude to his feet. His legs felt like wet noodles as he took the creature in.

It stood in the middle of their blown in path. In a cube of amber. Like a gold tinted ice cube, locking the monster in time forever.

"That's got to be the biggest werewolf I've ever seen…." Brink said.

"You've seen others..?" Trey asked.

"Sure….. in picture books." Brink replied as he watched Claude walk past him to approach the beast in amber.

It was at least nine feet tall on all fours. Barely relative to a wolf in form with its sabered fangs, short fur, long slim ears and spiked back fur poking through its armored body. Around its snout, a metal jaw lining sat like a gauntlet, giving it extra killing power. On its tail, a blade was fuzed to the flesh.

Claude thought back to his father suddenly.

"Wait….." Samuel mumbled.

Suddenly he was standing beside Claude.

"The average werewolf is five feet tall at the shoulder and about four hundred pounds. I read that the magical reactions to gaining the alpha position can force a sort of overgrowth period. But this is….. ridiculous." Claude mumbled. He felt queasy.

"This isn't an average werewolf."

"You know…. This?" Claude said as the others joined them.

"Yea." Samuel said. Then, he pointed to the chest where the metal reinforced leather armor held a logo of jaws with endless rows of teeth. Like a shark. "This is WarMaw. One of the strongest werewolf alphas in recent times. He took on and forcibly changed a few Onslaught Guild members in Arthuria. My father fought him twice in his younger years. Their story was supposed to end on the third fight but WarMaw disappeared."

"He ended up here. He was killed here." Claude said.

"No." Trey replied.

"What?"

Trey pointed at the wounds on the dead werewolf. "Some of these wounds are made post-mortem. And there's some type of sand in them. There's no sand here. Not that I've seen. I think he was brought here…"

"This isn't right…." Claude mumbled. He backed away from the beast in the amber.

Ursula followed him as the others continued to stare. Halfway between petrified and curious.

"What?"

"How is that here?" Claude asked.

Ursula shrugged.

"How did it get past Frosty and the others?" Claude asked, "They're guarding us. Scenting and sighting and somehow... this thing is just here. It got past them. Like it came out of the ground."

They both looked at the ground.

"GET BACK!"

They all spun around to face the sound.

In the distance, a man ran through the tall grass, his ragged breaths heightened with every swing.

In a matter of seconds, he rolled onto their path covered in hideous slash marks and bruises.

"Prof. Whitechapel!" Claude watched the man fall at Samuel's feet beside them.

"Trey, heal him. He's the only person thats seen them." Samuel demanded.

Claude grabbed Trey by the arm. He was even doubting himself as his mind spun obsessively. All his anxieties. All his worries even in complete safety. The abject wrongness of it all, was suddenly, supremely, vindicated.

"What are you doing, Claude?!" Trey asked.

"He did it to himself…."

They all looked at Claude like he was a maniac.

"Look at his nails…." Claude pointed.

They all did.

They were caked with flesh, fabrics and blood. He tried to hide them by balling his fists as he groaned in pain.

"Not to mention my dogs didn't notice him. It's like the amber. Like he just… appeared next to us. How did I not hear him coming?" Claude was in a trance. Caught in the act of realization while also thinking deeply about his next move.

Because the final piece was staring straight at him as Prof. Whitechapel lay face down in the grass.

Among all his cuts and bruises, one injury among the many stood out. It was precise. A stab wound. Not something made by a claw or blade. A pierce. From a spear.

"You're the shape." Claude said aloud.

The laughing breaths came again. Emanating from Prof. Whitechapel's rising and falling body.

"What the hell?"

Claude lunged forward and ran his spear through Prof. Whitechapel's back, pinning him to the ground with a surprising level of ease.

Prof. Whitechapel gasped.

Claude turned to his team, "RUN!"

They were about to when the howls came again. This time a symphony of them. Surrounding them completely. Frosty and the island dogs went wild.

"So it's werewolves. Naz said.

"Then this must be a Deviant Tangent. Silver Cursed Tangents are gold ranked minimum." Ursula said.

"Oh shit…" Trey trembled. "Oh….. oh….." Trey stammered, gaining everyone's attention.

They followed his eyes to the ground where Prof. Whitechapel had begun to steam. He vibrated with the spear in his back. His skin went dark. His oily combed back hair unfurled and extended into a thick wiry mane. His leather armor popped and tore as his muscle and bone expanded until he was almost double his size. Then the fur came. And his face extended into a lupine snout.

"Lupine…" Claude couldn't believe it. Prof. Whitechapel was a Lupine of Remus.

Prof. Whitechapel looked up at him with feral yellow eyes. "Smart bastard…"

On reflex, Claude called back his spear and threw it, trying to pierce Prof. Whitechapel's brain and end him before he began.

Unfortunately, his grand transformation was more than appearances. In a blur of movement, his arm came up and caught Claude's spear.

He snarled as the weapon sizzled in his pawed palms.

Samuel threw a wave of dark-fire.

Prof. Whitechapel lunged back into the long grass.

Claude whistled, thanking the gods when his hounds appeared behind him panting and snarling.

"That's it. Gather your things. Gather your wits and your fear. I want you to run. Give us a hunt…." Prof. Whitechapel said as he stood above the tall grass.

All around him, more Lupines on all fours snarled and barked.

They had no choice.