Wolf

The road stretched across the horizon like a ribbon of compacted dirt, winding through the empty plains like a snake of hardship and misfortune. Jere followed its path in silence, eyes sweeping for movement. Already he had seen signs that this route was a frequent target of the demons - broken carts abandoned at the roadside, scorched patches of grass where fire had once raged, skeletal remains lying half-buried in the dust.

The first patrol revealed itself quickly. Three orcs, green-skinned and broad-shouldered, trudged along the road with heavy axes resting across their backs. Their size alone would have been enough to terrify ordinary men.

They received the scream.

The piercing wail erupted from Jere’s wings, rising like the shriek of tortured steel. The orcs turned their heads too late. Their last sensation before their heads parted from their bodies in a single metallic sweep was not pain, but pure, marrow-deep fear.

It was a tactic Jere had used more times than he could count. His processors could provide the number instantly, but the exact figure was irrelevant. All that mattered was that the sequence worked: the rising scream disoriented, the sudden silence froze. Again and again, it had proven reliable. On Earth, his enemies had tried to train their soldiers to resist it. They had even drilled into them what to do when the sound fell away.

But against Jere, discipline had always crumbled. His reputation was louder than the scream itself. Soldiers froze because the stories told them they should. Fear dug in deeper than reason. It had taken only months for the lesson to root itself into entire armies, for the scream to become synonymous with death.

When you hear the scream, you freeze. When it stops, you count to five. If you reach six, you live.

He wondered, as the bodies of the orcs hit the ground with heavy thuds, whether the same pattern would repeat here.

The journey continued without pause. More figures appeared along the road, scattered raiding parties patrolling with the arrogance of predators who believed the route theirs. They fell the same way as the first. Eight more orcs died before Jere reached the outskirts of Bellamy. Their blood soaked into the dirt, unremarked, as if the earth itself had grown accustomed to it.

He banked sharply and began his return, eyes scanning the terrain below for fresh movement. His internal clock read 1400 when he turned back toward the city. Barely three hours had passed since his departure.

The thought crept into his mind unbidden: I could be used more efficiently on a battlefield.

It was true. Patrol routes and ambush clean-ups were work for ordinary soldiers. His design was for war on a scale beyond skirmishes. He could break armies, crack formations, tear through armored lines. And yet, they had chosen to send him here.

The conclusion was obvious. This was a test. They wanted proof - evidence that he was more than a curiosity before they unleashed him in earnest. Perhaps they did not yet understand what he was capable of.

Jere did not know.

But he flew on anyway.

The city loomed ahead, but Jere kept his eyes on the road. Orders were orders: scan the path from city to gate, nothing more, nothing less. His wings were streaked with blood, carving rippling trails through the air, feathers whistling in the quiet afternoon. His clock read 1700.

That was when he saw her.

A figure slumped against a tree, a girl with blood oozing from her leg. Beside her lay the wreck of a cart, overturned and broken. A quick scan told him she was alone. By the looks of the cart, she had been attacked. Perhaps she knew where the demons had gone.

Jere rolled into a dive, angling his wings to avoid spooking her more than necessary. As he closed in, her details sharpened: wavy brown hair, a tattered white blouse, a beige skirt torn above the knees. A black collar at her throat. Her fair skin was streaked with dirt and bruises, her chest rising in ragged spurts. The wound on her leg looked bad.

Jere catalogued it all - and felt nothing. No sympathy. No urge to help. He had a mission. He flared his wings to decelerate, feathers slicing the air.

The moment his boots touched earth, the girl stirred. Her eyes snapped open - deep red. She gasped and, to his faint amusement, pushed herself upright as though her leg were never injured.

The wings folded back into his spine with a clack. She planted a hand on her hip.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

Jere’s voice was flat. “That’s not important.”

And then she changed.

She grew taller, until she stood nearly level with him. Furred wolf ears pricked through her hair, white tufts gleaming at their centers. A tail unfurled behind her, long and full, swaying with the lazy confidence of a predator. Her human ears shrank into sharp, elven tips barely poking from her hair.

Jere’s thoughts rifled through possibilities. None fit. This was unprecedented. But what unsettled him most was the faint smugness curling her lips.

“Where did your attackers go?” he asked.

She tilted her head, amused. When she spoke two fangs spiking down from her upper teeth were exposed. “Attackers? What do you mean? We are the-”

It clicked.

His wings flared wide, but he was too close to bring the blades around. He beat them once, hard, hurling himself straight at her.

She ducked, nimble, and snapped upright into a guarded stance.

“Hey! What gives?”

Jere landed, turning slowly to face her. “You are a demon.”

Exasperation flashed across her face. “Yeah! So are you!”

“I am not.”

Her eyes sharpened. Then she leapt back, body convulsing, shifting. Her nose lengthened, mouth stretching into a muzzle. Shoulders rolled back with a grotesque crack. Fur the same colour as her hair exploded from her skin. In less than a breath, the girl was gone - replaced by a monstrous wolf towering twice Jere’s height.

Her clothes ripped, but the black collar grew with her, snug against the thick ruff of fur. She lunged.

Jere found himself suddenly flooded with disappointment. His mouth spoke before his mind caught up.

“That’s a bad move.”

The wolf skidded to a halt. “What?”

“I said, that’s a bad move.”

She crouched low, muscles bunched to spring. “What are you talking about, human?”

“Firstly,” Jere said, voice level, “I am not human. Secondly, you’ve made yourself an unmissable target.”

Why did he bother warning her? Maybe because - for the first time - someone had dodged him.

Her growl rumbled like thunder. “So what? I can swat you from the air.”

Without warning, Jere launched forward. His wings cracked like gunfire, his movement faster than sight. In less than a heartbeat, the sharp blades of the inverted diamond panels along the leading edge kissed the fur at her neck.

But instead of cutting, he drove another beat, hurling himself back across the clearing to where he had stood before.

The wolf hadn’t even processed his first motion. She blinked, frozen.

Jere inclined his head, his tone as calm as ever.

“No. You can’t.”

She didn’t move. She simply stood there, frozen, staring into nothing. Gradually, her senses returned. She blinked, then lowered herself onto her belly, closing her eyes and bowing her head. In a shimmer of light, her massive body shrank, collapsing inward until she was no bigger than a household dog.

“You win. Kill me.”

Jere’s disappointment only deepened. He retracted his wings without a sound.

“You’re giving up that easily?”

She gave no response.

“I know when I’m beaten,” she said at last, her voice flat.

Jere gave a single nod, then turned to leave. The wolf’s head snapped up, surprise flashing in her eyes.

“Where are you going? Why aren’t you finishing me?”

His gaze was neutral when he looked back.

“I don’t want to kill you. You disappoint me.”

A look of horror crossed her face as he turned away again. Her voice cracked, desperate now.

“Please kill me. I’m begging you.”

He stopped, irritation flickering across his expression as he turned back once more.

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll be tortured and executed anyway,” she said quickly. “The least you can do as the victor is grant me a clean death.”

His head tilted.

“I’ve already made my decision. Good luck.”

“Please! I’m being watched!” she blurted, almost shouting. That caught his attention.

“From where?”

Her ears perked, hope kindling.

“The Demonlands! They’re monitoring me with this collar!”

He began to turn away again. Panic rose in her eyes.

“Please! If you won’t kill me, then… then take me as your slave!”

Jere froze. Her stomach dropped. She realised instantly she’d chosen the wrong words. She tried again, her voice trembling, wounded.

“Please. Just don’t leave me here. Kill me or let me follow you. Please. You said you weren’t human, right? So you must-”

He turned slowly. His eyes gleamed.

“You’re right. I’m not human.”

She shrank back, fear taking hold as he approached, his wings unfurling with deliberate slowness.

“I’m not human. And yet I am. I’m a soldier. A tool. You understand that - you’re a warrior too.”

He loomed over her, shadow swallowing her small form like a child’s fear of the dark.

“So tell me… why should I let you follow me?”

Her voice broke into stammers.

“I-I-I…”

Then, as suddenly as a storm breaking, the tension broke as his wings folded away. His face smoothed back into neutrality.

“Do as you like. Just don’t get in my way.”

Her ears perked, her tail sweeping a hopeful arc across the dirt.

“Really?”

He didn’t answer. He was already walking. She scrambled upright, trotting after him, her paws pattering against the road as his wings began to extend again.

“Hey! Hey! I can’t fly!”

He glanced back over his shoulder.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

Her eyes shimmered with despair. Jere studied her for a moment. The calculations played out in silence: the risks, the inevitable complications, the danger if her nature was discovered. Bringing her along would invite questions. It might hinder his missions. It could even doom them both.

But on the other hand… he had just spoken to her more than he had spoken to anyone on Earth in years. And it had felt… strangely good. He wasn’t used to that feeling. He didn’t know what to do with it.

His expression stayed impassive as his wings folded away with a final, quiet clack.

“Fine. But don’t tempt fate.”

Her tail wagged, sweeping the road behind her as she bounded to his side as they walked towards the city.