Leo Rosetti, Werewolf Hunter

The humidity hung heavy in the air. Phosphorescent most lined the circular walls, giving me enough light to navigate through the tunnels of the Romanian sewer system. My boots splashed lightly with each step through the water, and the pungent smell of everything the citizens above flushed down here wafted across my nose.

I didn't bring a flashlight and regretted not spending an extra few seconds to grab one. However, my quarry wasn't waiting for me to get my shit together. It didn't matter now, and I could only hope the bit of ambient light I had would prove good enough. If not…

If not, then you're a goner, Leo.

My inner voice was far from loving and kind. If anything, it was downright sarcastic and pessimistic. It smelled as bad as the sewer I walked in. That's reality for ya. That's a harsh one considering I'm chasing a werewolf that killed my partner. It's one thing to see the movies, but when it stares at you in real life, I did what an average person would. I froze in terror.

It wasn't until I heard my partner's screams that I came to. By then, it was too late, and I did have enough time to give chase, and that's when everything went to shit. Literally, the damn creature opened a sewer cover and jumped down, and I managed to get one shot off. The only reward I got was a growl of pain. Lucky me.

When I took this assignment, I fully expected the occasional drug raid or human trafficking, maybe a prostitution ring, but not this. This is shit I read in books or watched movies on. None of this was supposed to be real in any shape or form. I knew the world was a fucked-up place, but werewolves? That's a hard no in my book but look at me now, ma. Hunting down an overly large rabid dog that is also human.

Did I need silver bullets? If so, then I was truly fucked. Movies shouldn't be real but looking for silver bullets seems like a product that isn't easy to come by. I can't just walk into a gun broker's shop and ask for it; they'd think I was crazy. Even an American shop wouldn't carry such ammo. I could be wrong about that.

Silver was big in the movies.

I had the cross on my neck, but I doubt that'd provide a lot of protection, let alone any defensive capabilities. Each step took me further and further into the sewer system. So far, the only bonus I got was the stream of sewage I walked through was only a few inches deep. I'm gonna need new boots after this. As long as I don't fall.

I tried to hold bag my gag reflex at my last thought when a growl ripped through the air. It was close, and the glowing eyes that gazed out of the darkness proved I was right. Its form is barely recognizable against the luminescent moss. It moved forward slowly, upright, with its claws dragging against the sides of the walls.

The sound grated on my nerves, but I held my gun raised and steady. My soul was shaking like a scared puppy who got dropped off at the pound, but I wasn't going to let it see my fear. Not that it mattered, as it probably smelled it coming off of me. Fear de Werewolf, a new scent from Calvin Klein. Even facing death, I kill myself with my humor.

It charged. I fired my gun, emptying my clip in its body. It raged in pain but swiped me to the side. I slid down the moss-covered wall onto the wet floor. It smelled worse at this level. Sweet Jesus, this is nasty. Pain seared my side, and I noticed my ripped blood covered shirt. I cussed.

The fucker had actually clawed at me. Fuck me. This isn't a good sign. Hopefully, the movies aren't that spot on. Yeah, Leo, and the next full moon, you might be chasing more than rabbits. I reloaded as I raised up on one knee. The werewolf turned and faced me, the bullet holes in his body oozing blood.

Maybe I had a chance anyway. The monster took a step, and I fired again, aiming at its head. Each shot landed, and the werewolf hit the water in a small splash. Some of which sprayed me in the face. I held back another gag, doing my best to keep the vomit down.

I took a few hesitant steps as his chest still moved. He still lived with two clips worth of ammo inside it, half of which I embedded into his head. This ain't a good sign. I pulled my knife, seeing as I was out of ammo, and it was the only thing I had left besides prayer.

Voices from further down echoed down the tunnel. Lights which I guessed from the flashlight, bobbed up and down. It sounded like more of the police force. They wouldn't believe their eyes when they saw this.

One stopped and looked at me, then at the werewolf. "Another werewolf. Haven't seen one of these in a while."

If that ain't awkward. Guess I was just another uncultured American working abroad. "Another werewolf?"

"Yeah. We get them from time to time," the officer said as a few others showed up. "Don't worry, we'll put him down."

"I unloaded two clips into the bastard, and he also clawed me real good," I said, showing them my side.

The other officers raised their guns at me, and the first one raised his hand to calm them down. With his left hand, he pulled out his gun and handed it to me with a smile.

"It has silver bullets. You'll have to kill the werewolf yourself if you want to break the curse," he said.

I took the gun and swore. As much as I didn't mind the chest hair I had, I didn't want a full-body suit of fur to come to the next full moon. I didn't fully understand why I had to kill the lycan myself, but I guessed since it struck me, I was now tied to it. Kill the sire, and anything cursed by it goes free. Sounds legit.

"Well, here goes nothing," I said, pulling the hammer back.

The werewolf sat up and howled. I put the barrel against his forehead and fired. The back of his head exploded outward, and he fell back into the water with a splash, dead. There was no way I was turning into one of those things. I'm used to fighting the bad guys, but none has teeth and claws like this.

Within moments, the werewolf changed back to the man it once was. I shook my head in pity. He may not even have realized he was this way, or if he did, he had no idea where to get help, and I doubt any help existed. An officer patted me on the back.

"Officer Leo Rosetti, I think you just earned your lycanthrope badge," said the lead officer.

"What?" I glanced over at them.

"It's a joke in the precinct. Your werewolf cherry has officially been popped, and you managed to get infected and simultaneously released from a curse. You Americans don't do anything small, do you?" He asked.

"I guess not. Please tell me there aren't more of these?" I asked.

They snickered and shook their heads. I had a feeling that would be the answer. Taking this job was nowhere near what I expected it to be. As a cop, I could now add werewolf hunter to the resume. I wonder how that'd look in America?

***

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