Regression

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Ahh, I'll continue to let the suspense build. This is not part 3, but it's kind of an intermission. This is a SUPER long imagine though, sorry guys.

Fighting is essential to being a werewolf. It runs through the veins, and it definitely makes itself known every full moon. Even those that have control over it still feel the bloodthirsty shadow of what they really are.

Isaac was following his primal fighting instincts when he charged at Deucalion. They were alone at the school, and the older werewolf had decided to test the Beta's strength. So, the altercation ensued.

However, Isaac wasn't as experienced as the older man. He was sloppy, and he left so many openings that Deucalion didn't even worry about defense. He was strictly offense.

Isaac got down and tried to swipe his legs out from under him, but in a well placed blow, Deucalion smacked Isaac's skull against the brick wall that they were fighting beside. Isaac was knocked out cold, and Deucalion decided to take his leave. He knew the boy would heal in time, so he wasn't worried about having more blood on his hands.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was the pair of hunters that ran onto the scene. One of them stopped and stomped his foot,

"Dammit, Michael!! Our main target got away!!"

The two college friends leisurely walked around the school building. Michael and Anvil swung their weapons as they walked, but Anvil froze when he heard a beeping sound. He pulled the tracker out of his pocket and peered at it,

"Michael, I think the other one is still here."

Michael swung his crossbow around too high, and it slapped him in the face. He yelled and bent over to hold his head, and Anvil hissed,

"Michael, you dumb ass. We have to be quiet, or else they'll hear us! Honestly, they probably already have!"

Michael didn't respond as they turned the corner and froze again. They beheld Isaac's crumpled form on the ground, and Michael sighed,

"Someone already got him before us! Looks like we can call it a night. Let's go."

He turned around and began to walk away, but Anvil grabbed him by the collar of his shirt,

"Wait, he's not dead. He's healing."

Sure enough, the wound on Isaac's head was closing slowly but surely. Anvil whipped out a syringe filled with a cloudy liquid, and he pushed the substance into Isaac's arm. Michael walked over and stared at him,

"What are you doing? Shouldn't we just stab him in the heart and leave?"

Anvil shook his head as he replaced the syringe,

"No, I'd rather see him suffer from this head trauma. I injected him with something that slows his healing, so he will die before his head is even halfway mended."

Michael shrugged and followed Anvil as they walked away from the injured wolf.

~~~

You sprinted towards the school with your phone held high. "Find My Friends" had tracked your boyfriend, and you had been worried sick when he never responded.

Isaac Lahey imaginesWhere stories live. Discover now