Our footsteps pounded the softened soil behind the cemetery walls as Denaux and I weaved throughout the cracked stones honoring lives well lived, and dishonoring our escape efforts. The fanged beast tread hotly on our tail, leaping great distances behind us to cover our tracks.

  “We gotta lose it, keep struttin' those long legs,” Denaux yelled.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I lashed back. I did notice that even after death...and rebirth, my legs were stronger than ever. I wondered what other enhancements I'd earned after a two week sabbatical under ground.

  Ahead, a long row of tall stones blocked my way, as Denaux wound down another route. I tensed my legs, to test myself...

  “Whatchu doing?” Denaux hollered in my direction.

  “Trying something new,” I yelled back. The air burst around me, as I ascended, the muscles twitching in my legs and sending me sky high, above the stones for a few seconds, and giving me some time to admire the intricate marbling and masonry of the mausoleum tops below.

  They were right though, the fall is always worse than the rise. I plummeted down, out of control, whirling into the direction of an iron mausoleum gate. Crashing through, I mangled the sturdy fixture and rolled down the steps to the bottom of the crypt, slamming into a stone slab sarcophagus.

  “Ugh,” I moaned, taking a minute to reorient myself. I cracked my neck, all the way around, back in place. Guess it could've been worse, I thought to myself, looking at some lacerations on my arms that leaked no red like before. A dried, black ooze formed, but wiped away with ease. A paper cut used to send me to the ER, in need of a blood transfusion, but now... My mind trailed off as I rubbed my wrists, where the old scars had remained from before. Short, jagged lines across. Sweet release. I can't remember why I did it, but the feeling lingered. Things were different though now. I was different. This...with some sewing kits, and a trip to 'Michael's,' was an improvement.

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  The roof rattled, crumbles of debris falling past my face, where a strip of light from an errant street lamp flittered through, beamed down into my eyes. Suddenly, a ferocious red orb pushed up against it. I spoke too soon on that whole worse thing.

  BANG! BANG! BANG! Pounding erupted upon the ceiling, as I scrambled up, hobbling towards the steps, before the roof had reached its limits, and caved, a large stream of beautiful craftsmanship rained onto the floor and blocked the exit.

  A breathy growl permeated the mausoleum like a thick fog, and rumbled throughout the interior walls. I turned to face the beast and found its massive frame crowding over me. I stood silent, retreating slowly, before tripping backwards over a piece of rubble. In my fall, the creature caught me and whipped me around, pressing me back against the sarcophagus with its mighty claw. Looking into the ferocious face of the creature, my body shivered. My eyes trailed downwards though with a glimmer under the ambient light, as a bracelet dangled, emblazoning a triangle within a circle, which contained the script letter 'b', all housed entirely by a Gothic pentagram. It was unique. Nostalgic in some way. And old, very old. What was it?

  The creature looking into my eyes, breathing in my scent, or the new scent I bore, before slowly unclenching its razors from around me. As if it recognized something about me. I held my gaze firmly on its eyes...showing strength, or at least trying to...and finding...profound sadness within. Was I imagining it? Or did this creature...have emotions?

  Suddenly, it backed away and leaped through the open roof, into the night.

  After a moment's reprieve, Denaux shakily wandered down the steps. “I have arrived!” He trumpeted sheepishly peering around the corners, and pushing past some larger rocks.

  “Yeah, thanks for that.”

  “I work with voodoo,” he snapped, “that don't work on no werewolves. Get me silver for that...though I prefer gold...In case you were planning on getting me a gift for saving your life...twice,” he joked, raising two fingers.

  “Don't plan on it,” I grumbled, as he helped stabilize me. “A werewolf?” I said aloud, letting my thoughts finally catch up with me. “They can't exist.”

  “You've seen all this tonight, and you're showing disbelief,” Denaux clapped. “You just survived a werewolf, chère, believe it.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “Someone dangerous.”

  “It had a bracelet on. There was a triangle...and inside it, the script letter 'b.'”

  Denaux's jaw dropped, his brow skyrocketing at the same time. “Well now, a family affair...things just got interesting.”