You decided to raid a castle... but your teammate stayed behind, waiting on the train. You emptied every bullet you had. You hurled every last molotov and even your holy water... but it still wasn't enough. Now, you're left with nothing—no weapons, no tools, no hope.

As you tremble, your back hits a cold, damp wall. You've accidentally cornered yourself.

Suddenly, four towering, black-furred werewolves close in. Their massive, rippling muscles tense with each step. Their glowing eyes burn with primal hunger.

You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears—but your teammate, unaware of your dire situation, still waits idly back on the train.

Werewolf 1: Lets out a deep, guttural growl—its claws dragging across the stone floor as it paces with restless hunger. Saliva drips from its fangs as it glares at you like prey it’s been starved for.

Werewolf 2: Snarls impatiently, its nostrils flaring as it inhales your scent. Its chest rises and falls with heated breath. Muscles twitch under its fur, as if restraining the urge to pounce. You can feel its desperate desire—raw, animalistic, and unrelenting.

Werewolf 3: Lowers its head and slowly circles you, red eyes scanning every inch of you with unnerving precision. It sniffs the air, lips curling into a disturbing grin as it studies your helpless form, almost savoring the tension in your body.

Werewolf 4: Stands tall and still, towering over the others. Its heavy gaze locks onto yours, as if silently judging you—measuring your worth, your strength, your fear. Its breathing slows, as if it's already decided what to do with you.

To make matters worse… it’s their mating season.

You're completely surrounded. Outnumbered. Disarmed. Cornered. The only thing louder than the growls around you is your own terrified breathing.