In a tavern, a hooded figure sat at the edge of the room, trying their best not to attract attention.
The room was bursting with joy and music being played by a band of bards, annoying the hooded figure by the second.
They brought out their map. They had come to this town to update it.
They could leave for the shop right now, but instead they hesitated. Something kept them from leaving the tavern.
"What if she's not there?," the figure whispered,
A loud thud.
The bard suddenly stopped playing music. The hooded figure couldn't help but smile.
"Perhaps one of the gods answered my prayers," they muttered. Unlikely—there were no gods for their kind. But still, it was a nice thought.
The hooded figure looked up at what had caused the large thud and silenced the entire tavern.
Five armored men strolled into the tavern and moved around the frightened residents like they owned the place, as if they were looking for something—or someone.
One of them stood on a table, kicking whatever was on it.
"Listen up!" he screamed, holding up a dagger in the air.
"We're from the hunters' guild, and we have reason to believe a mutt is amongst you."
The people in the tavern began to whisper uncontrollably, looking at their neighbors with terror and uncertainty. It could be any one of them.
The hooded figure hissed, annoyed.
"They found me. I thought I covered my tracks well."
The hooded figure prepared to fight. Underneath the table, their fingers began to elongate, turning dark and more solid.
"Calm yourselves!" the leader exclaimed. He pulled out a dagger and raised it, showing it to everyone in the tavern.
"This here is a silver dagger. If you're human, you've got nothing to worry about. If you're not…"
The leader let out a slow, heavy, sinister smile.
"…well then we're going to make a pyre for you.".
"Silver? Really? They're using that old superstition?" The hooded figure eased themselves.
The first to be tested was a young peasant girl, seeming to be in her early twenties.
The hooded figure returned to their map, planning their next outing. Nothing to be seen.
"Ahh!" the girl screamed.
The hooded figure dropped their map. Their eyes widened as they saw a burnt imprint of the dagger on the girl's hand, still burning as she knelt and cried in pain.
"She's one of them, a monster!" a man screamed.
"By the gods, she's disguised herself as one of us!", a woman followed.
The tavern began to be filled with hateful comments and non-human slurs: mutt, monster, beast in human skin– all aimed at the peasant girl.
Her eyes showed terror as the people, once laughing, drinking, and eating amongst each other, now surrounded her with bloodlust.
She ran to the door, but was pushed back down by one of the hunters.
She stood with her hands raised, trying to show she was not a threat. It didn't work. They approached her with weapons made from broken chairs, tables, and mugs.
"Wait!" she cried. "Please, listen to me! I'm human. I'm not a monster. I'm one of you. Please, you have to believe me!"
"LIES!" the leader screamed. "She is a monster. She's been hiding among you, pretending to be an innocent girl!"
"That's not true!" the girl screamed.
"Yes, it is!" the leader screamed back. "Let me ask you all: how many of your loved ones have disappeared without their bodies being found? How long have you wondered what happened to them?"
The people in the tavern were silent. Their hateful glares intensified at the young girl. Any doubts were shattered by the leader's words.
"I… I…" the girl stuttered, unable to say anything else. Before, she had hoped they might listen. But now she knew that was impossible.
What else was there to do but accept her fate? She was tackled down by one of the hunters—the one who had prevented her from leaving. Before, it seemed like she didn't have any fight left, but she struggled with all her might as she was bound and gagged.
The leader walked to his men.
"We're going to burn this monster. If any of you wish to see this monster pay for threatening your lives, follow us!"
All the people in the tavern left quickly, following the hunters to the execution site. All except the hooded figure.
They were frozen, still processing what had just happened.
"What the hell was that!? That girl… she wasn't like me. I would have sensed it. And even if she was, silver shouldn't have done anything."
The hooded figure's eyes caught something glistening not too distant. It was the dagger used on the girl.
Rushing from their seat, the hooded figure picked up the blade and observed it. It was rusted.
"It's not even real silver. Then how—"
They paused as their eyes spotted some sort of liquid most would've missed if they weren't looking.
Not thinking too much, they placed a finger in it.
"Augh…" They resisted screaming as their flesh burned. Moments later, the burnt skin slowly closed up.
"Some sort of liquid that burns on contact."
The hooded figure heard loud laughter and boasting approaching them.
Their eyes landed on one of the so-called hunters. The only distinctive trait the hooded figure cared for was that this hunter was slimmer than the rest.
Slim's eyes showed horror as he saw the hooded figure with the fake silver dagger. His group's scam was revealed, and it seemed he wondered what the figure would do next.
The hooded figure let out a sigh. They pinned the dagger on a table and walked away. It wasn't their problem.
Outside the tavern, the hooded figure heard the voice of a peasant girl, this time louder, cracking with fear. The people had begun putting her on a pyre. She pleaded for them to stop, but she was ignored again and again.
"Shame…" the hooded figure said. "…but that's just how humans are."
They walked away to their destination. As they did, they sniffed the air.
"Why are they following me?"
They tried to lose their stalkers, but with no luck. They needed to end this.
The hooded figure led their stalkers into an alley. On the other end of the alley, they were blocked by two of the so-called hunters.
The same happened in the other alley path. The leader emerged between one of the pairs, wearing the same sadistic smile.
"One of my boys here told me you've discovered our little trick. Unfortunately for you, lad, I can't let you go after that now, can I?"
The leader nodded. All the men drew their short swords, ready to silence the hooded figure.
Slim made the first step . "We'lll make this qui–"
A blur. A slash. Slim collapsed.
Blood poured from his neck.
The men were stunned, unsure what had just happened and unsure what to do next.
Run or attack.
The hooded figure wouldn't give them a choice.
"They all die here," they spoke aloud, trying to intimidate.
It worked.
A tall one charged toward the hooded figure.
The figure pounced.
The tall one fell backward.
The figure bit down, spitting out the tall one's throat.
Two charged at the hooded figure from both sides.
The figure caught both blades. Blood ripped from the hooded figure's hands.
The men tried yanking their weapons away, but it was useless. The hooded figure remained unmoved and unbothered.
Crack!
Both blades snapped in two. The figure used the shattered ends and thrust into the men—
One in the chest. One in the head. They fell easily, like their comrades.
"Only one left."
The figure turned to the leader, stunned, legs shaking, utterly terrified.
He turned to run.
"Ah—" he fell. A short, rusted sword protruded from his leg.
"Help!" he cried out, over and over, hoping someone would save him.
No one came. They were too busy cheering for the death of the innocent girl he had framed.
The hooded figure picked up the leader by the neck and slammed him into the wall like he was a ragdoll.
The leader scratched and clawed, with no luck escaping. The figure's grip was like heavy steel.
The leader took a glimpse of the hooded figure's face: glowing golden eyes and elongated incisors, framed by a cold, bloodthirsty frown.
"You're a… You're a…" the leader choked.
"Yeah. A werewolf," the hooded figure said. They squeezed, crushing the leader's neck and letting him collapse to the floor.