Each shot hit the Alpha, but he kept charging forward, raging for Sam. Sam heard the click that told him his chamber was empty. He dove for his spear and immediately thrust it out. The Alpha swerved left and twirled with a backhanded punch. Sam pulled the spear up to block it and heard a sharp snap. He shoved the D’Arak away and lunged with another jab, but the Alpha moved faster, as if pulled by an invisible force. Sam tried to shift back to gain space like he’d done with the lix, but the Alpha was a different monster.

  He drove forward, closing the gap. Sam brought the spear to block the attack again, but the D’Arak’s claws sliced through the shaft, breaking it in two. Sam groaned, feeling a slight sting on his chest. Panic flared, but there was no time. He swung the top half of his spear as fast as he could. With the Alpha’s attention on the top half, he drove the other half forward to stab low. He grunted, his arm straining as the lower half hit the D’Arak’s armor. Hope melted away just before a large fist slammed into his face. Darkness enveloped him briefly, and just as his vision returned, the Alpha rammed into him, lifting and slamming him down hard.

  Something dug into his back, the pain sickeningly loud in his head, but Sam didn’t have time to feel it. He scrambled away as the Alpha’s clasped hands came down, creating a small crater where he’d been. His chest would have caved under that blow. Sam got up and staggered back, away from the raging Alpha. He’d known he wasn’t strong enough to fight this monster, but this was different. He was really going to die if they fought any longer.

  The D’Arak growled, deeper than the mutated Lix’s. His red eyes glowed in the night, his fur bristling in the warm evening wind. The dull moon’s glow illuminated him perfectly, creating the silhouette of a ghostly nightmare. Sam felt a small pinch in his back. He’d suffer the pain later but for now, all he could think about was running. He squeezed tight on the two halves of his spear. He’d thought he was stronger. And now this monster was taking him back to the weakling he thought he’d moved away from. Sam didn’t like that.

  “What’s wrong?” the D’Arak asked. “No more tricks? None of those steel weapons that you and your kind hide behind?” He looked past Sam and howled. Sam jumped, realizing there were footsteps behind him. He cursed himself. His perception was terrible. He saw the shadows and their rows of golden eyes. They stayed back in the shadows, where the tree hid them from the illuminating glare of the half-shattered moon.

  “I want them to watch as I punish you for what you have done,” the Alpha said. He stretched his hands out, showing Sam the claws that would tear into him. “I will put you down and let them make you into strips.”

  Sam stared at him, frustrated. He’d known they’d be after him, yet he couldn’t see why they were so angry. They’d tried to kill him and he’d killed them instead. What would they have had him do? Stand very still while they tore through him? He wanted to make that clear to the blood-red-eyed half-wolf before him, but he could see it would be a waste of effort. There was only one thing he could do, or try to do. And that was to put the dog down before it reached him. And to do that, Sam had the feeling he’d be doing more than bleeding this time. He might actually have to put his life on the line. The thought sent a wave of chill through him. Fighting wild animals was one thing; fighting this was a whole different caliber of stupidity, and yet there was no way out of it. He prepared himself, walking toward the Alpha in slow, calculating steps. The D’Araks seemed to take that as a cue for him to attack. His movement was a burst of speed, but Sam was familiar with that now. He didn’t have to catch the Alpha with his eyes. He simply had to watch out for the spike of essence.

  He crouched, letting a swipe of claws sail over his head. He turned quickly to stab at the Alpha’s calf, but the D’Arak had seen that coming. He slid his back foot away from Sam and his second leg shot out in a fast kick. Sam used both halves of his spear to block the kick. Sam flew backward, rolled on the hard ground, and used his spear to slow his motion. He made to stand, but the Alpha was already there, a fist coming down on him like a comet. Sam leaned into it, using his left arm to stop it. His shoulder shifted and he yelled out in pain.

  The Alpha caught him before he fell back and pulled him into a headbutt that made Sam’s head ring like he’d been slammed against a church bell. Everything vanished. Nothing existed for a long moment, not even him. Everything returned sharply and he saw the howling snout of the Alpha so close to his face. Sam lashed out at him. His mind was a blur of thoughts and motions. His hands moved and he screamed like a crazy pirate while he attacked. At one point, the woods fell off his hands and he continued with his fists. He staggered back, taking a slash to his chest. His thick, filthy robe took much of the attack, but he felt the burn of the claw graze. Sam roared. Fury, fear, and anger mixed darkly with burning adrenaline. He launched himself at the Alpha, punching blindly. He heard the Alpha grunt and curse. He felt a thousand cuts on himself, but the pain was a distant sensation.

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  He flung another punch, putting his whole weight behind it only for it to meet air. Hands pulled his hair back, causing a different kind of pain. One that felt like little stings to his scalp. Sam turned sharply, but his face hit something hard. He heard the growl again. There was nothing in sight, only darkness. The moon was gone. He didn’t let himself fall though. He tried to attack again, but all he felt was that hard wall, smacking into him. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Something echoed in his head, like a loud explosion in a vacant space. The sky lit up, piercing the darkness briefly. Someone screamed. And another howled. Sam tried to breathe. Frantically at first, but that hurt his chest. He was drowning… no, choking. He felt the ground under him tremble. And then that explosion rang again and suddenly there was a lot of noise. He fell to his knees, feeling the vibration in his bones. People? A lot of people. He felt the whomp of something loud and destructive. The cries submerged him. Pain, so much pain. The darkness hid him away from it. He felt hands on him again, roughly pulling him up. A snarl, so close to his ear. It smelled like his own saliva, blood, and the breath from this other person he was too blind to see. Then he heard the guttural voice, rough and hateful.

  “You can’t run this time. They can’t save you.”

  He felt something dig into his gut. It was uncomfortable at first, and then he yelled. The pain was overwhelming. It pushed through his mind, filtering into every part of him. The darkness he’d been cocooned in was suddenly tinted red, exploding with all shades of death. Sam hit the ground, his hands pressing at the spot he felt the pain was originating from.

  Warmth. That was all he felt. It flowed over his hands, wetting his face. Sam folded into it. He knew it was his end and he accepted it. He’d lied to himself that he could survive this, but this wasn’t his world. He was an alien here. He’d been thrown into a life he couldn’t make one end from another. Perhaps he’d overreached. He waited, begging for the end to come sooner. The pain was a finger of ice reaching into his marrow. He quivered, every movement creating its own little explosion of pain—an unending torture.

  Once he’d thought he felt pain. When he folded in his bed and cried after he was abandoned. Then he thought he was suffering, that he was tasting the final form of torment. How wrong he’d been. That had been easy compared to what he felt now. This was the kiss of a poisoned thorn, the abrupt end. He thought he had a chance and reality had opened before him, showing him the ugly face of his fate. Death was ugly. It was final and terrifying.

  “Carry him!” someone yelled as something cracked overhead. That explosion shook the ground again and Sam knew someone had died at the end of that blast. He heard the voice repeat the command again and tried to stop them. Moving him would hurt him. Why won’t they let him die? Why were they trying to save him?

  He tried to open his eyes, pushing himself on his back. The moon was so huge, like a shattered ball of silver. Sam’s breath shook as he tried to smile. It was beautiful. The terror was left in the darkness, now he could see the bright end of death. This was a good enough ending for him. He blinked, even that little movement took so much effort.

  Faces came fast to hover over him. He didn’t know any of them, and he couldn’t recognize whatever he was looking at. Only that they were human, like him. Not D’Araks. He grinned and stretched a hand up to touch a face but his hand was pushed down. Sam laughed, confirming that they were real. He’d thought he was dead or dreaming. He wanted to turn his head to search for the Alpha, but that caused even more pain. He stayed still as they pulled him into something. Straps wrapped around him, tight and painful. He couldn’t move. Someone mumbled something he couldn’t catch.

  “So much blood!”

  “He might die anyway. I don’t see why we are risking ourselves to get him,” another voice said and Sam grinned. He lifted his hand again, but to touch the approaching moon this time. It was getting larger, closer—its light purifying like the touch of a celestial. He had the urge to pray, but that was something the old Sam would have done. He was different, changed. He’d become a man the old Earth couldn’t have made out of him. And this man accepted the darkness as it came. He didn’t cry, or scream. The pain had become sublime and Sam was riding it to wherever it wanted to take him. Only the sensation of being pulled stayed, and soon even that was gone. He let himself go—forgetting the battles and the faces. Everything vanished in the absolute peace of death.

  Sam woke up to a ringing horn, his mind white and noisy. Just in front of him was a large square glass fit into a metal wall. The smell of alcohol hung in the air, but aside from that, everything else was clean and crisp. The ringing didn’t stop. Sam tried to move only to see that he was shackled to the bed and even that slight attempt had him falling back down to the cushioned bed, moaning in pain. His head was foggy, but only for a moment. Slowly he felt himself being pulled under.

  “Hello,” he muttered. “Please... help me.”

  The words were difficult to push out, his tongue heavy in his mouth. His eyelids were heavy and the pain flared and ebbed as though it was alive in him. Sam let himself go again. Perhaps he was dead and that was a dream. He appreciated the brief relief. Now he must go back to his darkness and be lost forever. As he dipped under, a wish lingered; fading only as the last thread of his consciousness was swallowed by the unending black.