The gangsters were having a party, cracking open beers and high-fiving each other over their successful hit job. They eagerly awaited the arrival of the mysterious figure who had ordered the hit, their minds already swirling with the possibilities of their next job.
Fir listened in from the shadows, his ears perked and his eyes darting around the room, taking in every detail. As he waited, a plan started to form in his mind. He knew that he could take them all down if he timed his attack just right.
Then, the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Three sleek black SUVs pulled up outside the warehouse, and nine men dressed in sharp suits and fedoras emerged.
But it was the woman with them who caught his attention. She was stunning, with long, flowing hair and mesmerizing eyes. Fir felt like he had seen her before, but couldn't quite remember
Inside the warehouse
The gang leader sneered as he looked at the a men with fedoras, his pride and arrogance evident in his posture.
"We did what you asked us to do," he said with a smirk.
"I asked you to kill someone, not to go out in an all-out massacre," The man with the white fedora hat looked at him with disdain. he said, his voice calm but cold.
"So what if it was a little messy? We killed our target, and you have to pay us," The gang leader shrugged his shoulder, his chest puffed out with pride.
The man with the white fedora hat shook his head in disappointment.
"Street thugs are really a bunch of illiterates," he muttered to himself before turning to one of his men.
"Give them the money," he said, gesturing to the briefcases containing 800k USD.
The gang leader's eyes widened as he looked at the briefcase. It was a good haul for their group, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on the cash. Just imagining the amount of drugs and women they can buy with that money was enough to make him droll.
"It's time to attack " Fir muttered to himself.
But as the man with white fedora turned around to leave, Fir felt a sense of danger washing over him. He was about to attack, but suddenly the glass behind him shattered, and a black blur attacked him.
"Damn it ! " he cursed outloud while maneuvering his body to sidestep and kicked the beast's head, but it was tougher than he expected.
Swooooosh
"I need to retreat "he jumped backward barely dodging the beast claw.
The sudden commotion startled the gang members, and they immediately armed themselves, thinking they were being betrayed. But it was too late. The gentleman they were dealing with ordered his men, who had been hiding outside to attacked them, turning into wild creatures.
"Werewolves!" the gang members shouted in terror as they saw multiple beasts with yellow eyes attacking them. It seemed that other party was going to kill them from the get-go.
"I need to kill this Mut fast! ," Fir muttered, realizing the severity of the situation. He didn't know how strong these beasts were, but he wasn't about to wait around to find out.
With a whoosh, he zoomed towards the werewolf's side, aiming for its liver. The werewolf sneered, thinking Fir was just another vampire it could easily defeat. It had fought plenty of vampires before.
But the werewolf had made a grave mistake.
"Awooooooo!" The beast howled in agony as Fir's hands cleanly pierced its liver. It tried to run away, but something was wrong with its body. Fir was absorbing its energy, something uncommon for a vampire.
As the first werewolf fell to the ground, writhing in pain, the other gang members started shooting at the werewolves
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-rat-a-tat-tat-tat"
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-rat-a-tat-tat-tat"
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-rat-a-tat-tat-tat"
The sound of gunshots echoed through the the whole warehouse, creating a deafening symphony of deadly sounds that reverberated in their ears
But their bullets seemed to have no effect on the beast's agility and strength as it swiftly dodged their attacks and pounced on them with lightning speed. Some bullets managed to hit their mark but it wasn't enough to kill a single werewolf.
The air was thick with the stench of gunpowder and sweat, and the screams of the wounded only added to the chaos. However, the werewolves remained unfazed, taking them out one by one with brutal efficiency, its eyes glowing with an unearthly intensity that struck fear into their hearts.
After a few minutes...
The pack of werewolves had just finished slaughtering the gangsters, leaving Fir to stand alone after killing three of their pack members.
Although he had planned to escape, two more werewolves had come after him. He was able to kill them, but it took him longer than expected, and he now found himself surrounded by the rest of the pack.
Meanwhile, the man with the white fedora was curious about Fir's identity. He moved like a vampire, but his eyes were not black-red.
To avoid any unnecessary conflicts, the man with the White Fedora decided to tread carefully, as California was not his territory and he didn't want to risk a confrontation with another family in their own turf.
"Which family are you from?" the man asked, intrigued. He sensed that Fir was not an ordinary vampire, and he wanted to know more.
"Fam--family? Is he thinking that I'm part of a group too? Maybe I can use his misunderstanding to my advantage," Fir thought to himself, as he quickly came up with a plan.
"You don't need to know which family I'm from, but let me tell you one thing. You're messing with the wrong person," Fir spoke confidently and with a cold demeanor. His acting was so convincing that anyone who saw him would have believed he was backed by a powerful force.
The man in the White Fedora swiftly raised his hands, gesturing his men to halt their attack.
"Enough of this senseless violence. You've already taken down three of my men, and we have already finished our job," the man declared, pointing to the lifeless bodies of the gangmembers.
His voice was heavy with authority, and his piercing gaze held a warning that sent chills down the spines of those in his presence. It was clear that he was not to be trifled with, and that his power extended far beyond the confines of humanity.
The man's cold demeanor and calculated words left no room for negotiation. It was clear that he meant business, and that any further altercation would not end well for those involved.
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