There are very few challenges in the life of someone as old as him. He had seen kingdoms rise and fall like the changes of from day to night. Everyone thinking that the system they have is currently the best until the flaws overtake the benefits, destroying it all. Theron did not bother paying attention to the structure of human society and preferred his seclusion. Nevertheless, life can be boring without the challenges that are presented by fate.

Theron did not hesitate to kill the two men waiting at the door, waiting for parcels that weren't coming. He needed the pilot alive to get off this island without having to swim to civilisation. He strode towards the large gate, sliding it open, breaking the mechanism with ease. There were more men waiting on the otherwise with more guns, except instead of bullets, they held tranquiliser darts. The darts whistled through the air, allowing him to easily dodge them, as he ignored their shouts.

He decided to simply snap their necks, he didn't have time to have fun with them. There was a bigger fish to catch. The guards that were stupid enough to face him, received the same treatment while others were cowards trying to run at the sight of him. Their communication devices were constantly beeping with errors so unless they saw the slaughtering, there were none the wiser until he appeared. His wolf was pacing back and forth, demanding a chance at the murder spree.

Someone with some sort of authority, fumbled with his pistol but Theron pushed him against the ground by his throat. There was a scent on him that he would never forget. The scent had haunted him through his mourning and into his nightmares. The stuttering man gave no concrete answer, so Theron applied pressure to his neck.

It was time to hunt George Hawthorne.

Theron traced the scent beyond the lab to a mansion at the back. The guards were easily taken care of but as the scent became overwhelming as Theron entered the building, he shifted. Bloodthirsty, and high from the chaos of the high death toll, he was unable to control the beast beneath his skin.

The fates that had abandoned him were on his side today.

George was sitting unsuspecting at his dinner table. The table was lined with food fit for a 20th century lord. His blonde hair was slicked back and he was in a starchy suit. Theron didn't give him much time to react before he pounced in his direction. The man threw a knife at the wolf, cutting him in the shoulder. The beast did not feel any pain, his single tracked mind demanding a bite.

He wanted the taste of blood on his tongue, the high of death in his eyes and the chaos of life in his paws.

George's screams urged his beast to continue his assault. He toyed with George by letting go of his leg, allowing him to squirm backwards, until he dived, jaws locked, onto George's arm. The urge to kill had lessened as Theron recalled Rafael's word; Bring him back to us for a proper punishment. Do not kill him.

The beast dragged George by the arm back down the same pathway to the aeroplane. A soft pop, followed by a gurgled moaned from George was like music to the beast's ears. With no mercy, they arrived where the dead bodies of the first guards laid. Theron shifted back and picked up one of the many available tranquiliser guns. George was trying to leave, using his one arm to drag himself away from Theron.

Grabbing George's once-white shirt collar, Theron menaced, "Hope about a nap before we meet my brothers for tea."

Theron shot three tranquiliser darts into George's neck, pausing to listen to the slowed heart rate of his victim. He continued to drag George by his collar towards the aircraft. Hearing the cock of a gun from within, he gruffly announced his presence, "It's just me with our little prize."

The pilot backed down, eyes widening. Everything reeked of fear. Theron was nude, with blood dripping from his mouth and hands stained in red. He dropped George into a seat and threw the gun in the pilot's general direction. "It he makes a move, shoot him three times."

The pilot swallowed, nodding at Theron's demand. Tally was tense and didn't turn around to even face him. She just murmured, "Micah said you need to clean up the place."

His eyes flickered to her screens, which showed the CCTV of the island. She had seen everything. Surely, she would've recognised the wolf. If not, the sight of him in action was enough to turn a mere human's stomach inside out. Maybe she would reconsider his offer now...

Theron grunted his acknowledgment and left the aircraft. The easiest way to get rid of this place would be to burn it to the ground. He found that there was still a few people alive on the island. A sterile white building with some sort of experiments were taking place. There was a lot of gas cylinders lying around. A few humans tried to interfere with his exploring, and they greeted death before they could finish their thoughts.

Plucking out a packet of cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of one of the dead bodies, he lit the cigarette with ease. The taste was diluted, reminding him of the earlier days where he could obtain quality tobacco. The gas cylinders were enough to blow up the lab but the bodies all over the place required something a little more. The little more came in a form of beer barrel. The guards would part this world with a little gift from him. He dug a hole in the barrel and dragged it around, splashing each body with a little alcohol.

In the lab, he opened the gas cylinders and left a lit cigarette at the doorway, closing the door behind him. He lit around cigarette but this time he didn't bother to just a drag. He dropped it on a guard the beer did not take long to lit up, flames following the path he drew. Everything would burn. Everything that George touched usually burned, anyway.

The only testament to his sins were ash. 

~*~

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