A sharp jolt from his back caused Talbot to stiffen, his face twisted in pain. He let out several low groans as he fell to the ground. His back arched as several vertebrae snapped and dislocated, stretching his back farther than normal. Blood dripped from his mouth as his chest, now lifted from the ground by his bulking forearms, expanded and hardened.

Fur sprouted from every inch of Larry’s skin as the entirety of his arms, legs, and torso grew more muscular. All at once his fingernails cracked and split, making room for ten, two inch claws. His furry hands dripped with his blood before the wounds healed themselves. The last human part of Larry, his head, changed as well. His nose and mouth elongated slowly and painfully, coming together to form a snout. His mouth filled rapidly with blood as his human teeth retracted into his gums, making way for a set of sharper, elongated ones.

The figure that was once Larry Talbot hopped up from the floor, righting itself on its muscular legs. The beast’s yellow eyes glared up at the full moon, its snout rising up to the sky. Parting its elongated jaw, the creature let out a bellowing howl, blood still dripping from the corners of its mouth. Curling its fingers and cracking its stretched bones, the wolf crouched down onto its hands and sniffed the air. After being sent back to hell by the hunter, the Wolfman has risen again.

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The commotion coming from room 16C was enough to disturb the other customers. Randy had received several complaints regarding Mr. Talbot. Never in his time at the Duck Bill had Randy ever received noise complaints. Grabbing the key for Talbot’s room, Randy left his counter to confront the noisy guest.

As Randy made his way up the rickety staircase and down the hallway towards room 16C, he noticed it was quiet. Moving even closer to the room, he heard nothing. An eerie silence filled the small motel as he came to the door.

“Mr. Talbot?” Randy rapped lightly on the door. “The others are complaining about the noise you’re making.”

There was no answer but the sound of something scraping slowly against the door. The scraping seemed to stop at the middle of the door, where Randy’s chest was. A labored breathing rose from inside the room, causing Randy to step back for a moment.

“Mr. Talbot?” Randy reached for the lock on the door, sliding the key in slowly and turning it. The door clicked loudly in the dead silence.

As Randy reached for the doorknob, splinters of wood flew at him as a section of the door exploded. The inn owner tried to stumble backwards, but could not. Each time he tried to move, he could feel his chest pull away from him. He slowly looked down to the ground, and as he did an extreme pain shook his entire body. His eyes stared down at a furred hand that gripped his chest. He could feel the fingers digging deep into his skin, pulling him closer to the door. One finger gently scraped against his ribcage before pressing hard against the bone and snapping it. Randy tensed and fell limp. The last thing he felt was his heart being punctured.

Several guests at the inn came out of their dwellings to witness what the commotion was about. With new looks of fear on their face, they watched as the door burst off of its hinges and was pushed into the middle of the hallway. On one side of the door was the inn owner, blood dripping off of his lifeless body. On the other side was an abomination of nature; a wolf standing on its hind legs grasping onto the body of Randy McNaley and holding a door off of the floor. The beast growled as it threw down both the owner’s body and the door, licking its bloodied hand. Crouching down to the floor, the Wolfman pushed the door off of the corpse and started tearing its claws through the malleable flesh. Ripping off chunks of human meat, the wolf feasted, ignoring the crowd around him.

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As Abraham neared the inn, his ears caught wind of several screams, all coming from within the inn. Before he even had the chance to step through the door, several patrons came running out, white as ghosts. Abraham grabbed hold of one man.

“Man wolf. The legends are real.” The man shuttered before pushing away from Van Helsing.

Abraham entered the inn and was struck with a familiar smell. Reaching underneath his jacket, Helsing produced his weapon, holding tightly onto the wooden end of the stake. In the silence of the Duck Bill, Abraham could make out a soft squishing sound coming from the second floor. He sighed to himself, aware of what the sound meant.

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The Wolfman tore off another piece of muscle, hungrily stuffing the meat into its mouth. After swallowing the sinew and licking the blood from its chops, the beast reared its head up from the body. Lifting its snout into the air, the lycanthrope took in a deep breath of air through its nose, followed by several short sniffs. The Wolfman sprang up off the floor and stood on its hind legs. The smell struck it again, stronger this time. The smell was familiar yet threatening; the hunter.

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A sudden thump cut off the sounds of the beast feasting which caused Van Helsing to stiffen. The beast knew he was there. Helsing’s fingers wrapped tighter around the wooden stake as he slowly approached the staircase. His breathes were slow, almost matching the speed of his steps. Being as quiet as he was, Van Helsing still knew the Wolfman could sense his exact location; no matter how careful he was, he still smelled of human.

Another noise broke the stillness and repeated. A soft click followed by the creaking of wood approached the stairs at a moderate pace. The creature wasn’t trying to hide its presence. Van Helsing froze as any prey would when they’ve realized their fate. The Wolfman wanted a confrontation; the beast, as primordial as it was, was craving retribution.

Abraham tensed even more as the creature started down the staircase. The beast’s claws could be heard dragging against the wall, as if to mimic the sound of bone being scraped. The furred figure appeared from behind the wall, and even with a half a stairwell to go down, it stopped and turned towards Abraham.

“Talbot…” Abraham spoke softly as he stared at the Wolfman.

The beast stared right back, its mouth dripping with the Duck Bill owner’s blood. The Wolfman snarled and took another step, its yellow eyes still glaring at Van Helsing.

“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,” Abraham made the sign of the cross over his chest, pulling another stake from his jacket, “Amen.”

The Wolfman hopped down from the remaining stairs, crashing through the staircase banister. As it landed, the creature stretched towards the ceiling and roared as if to respond to the prayer.

Abraham took this brief moment as his chance to attack. Even though his body wanted to refuse any sudden and strenuous movement, Van Helsing lunged forward and jabbed the silver tipped stakes towards the beast.

The Wolfman reacted quickly, swatting at its oncoming foe. The creature’s backhand struck Abraham’s arms, sending him to the ground.

Crouching down on all fours, the beast stared at its prey briefly before making its attack. Pushing off of its back legs, the Wolfman lunged at Abraham, its claws outstretched in front of him.

Abraham rolled to the side and as the Wolfman hit the spot where he was, Helsing jabbed one of the stakes into the beast’s back. His hand pushed the stake in deeper, causing the man wolf to yelp in pain and swat at Abraham’s arm. The creature’s claw missed its mark, allowing Van Helsing to move away from his attacker.

Abraham wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched the creature writhe in pain. Van Helsing crossed his chest once more, praying softly to himself.

“No one will disturb you again.”

As Abraham drew nearer to the beast, he paused. The creature's face had transformed back to its human form. The face staring up at Abraham with pleading eyes was not Lawrence Talbot. Abraham had never seen the face before.