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Showdown

A pair of furred arms suddenly punch themselves free from the collapsed rubble. Yup, Fred's still alive. He squeezes himself out, and drops the amulet nearby. It's continuing to throb with magical energy.

"That...HURTS!" he yowls at you. "I had hoped you'd make a fine servant, when I infected you, cub! But now I'm going to turn you into a rug!!" Wounded, he slowly drags himself over to you both, on all fours. He looks mad...

Irene gulps. "I've lost my knife."

"Do something!" you yelp. "Improvise!"

She quickly rummages through the fallen bricks. Fred is almost upon Irene, drooling, eager to make her his next werewolf servant, in order to complete the full extent of the ritual.

"Wait a minute...!" Irene pulls out a weed spray gun from the rubble. She tests it, then hurriedly squirts the contents into Fred's eyes.

"Yowl! Can't see!" Fred clutches at his eyes, blinded. As he falls within your reach, you grab hold of him from behind with your foreclaws, and attempt to throttle him.

Taking advantage of the moment, Irene swiftly empties her satchel - and a couple of pork pies fall out. Grabbing one, Irene yells at you to hold Fred fast. Then, with her gloved hands - she shoves the pie into Fred's mouth.

"What the...helh? Heph!! Um carmph brmph!!" (You translate this as: 'Help!! I can't breath!!')

Wounded, and now choking, Fred is unable to escape your hold around his muzzle. You daren't let go until at least five minutes have passed by, going on Irene's watch.

Then, exhausted, you let him go. Fred ends up staring at you both with wide, motionless eyes, and a terrified expression. You can hear no heartbeat.

"He's finished," you tell Irene.


Written by Midnight Blue

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