The moon was silver and grey, plating her mother planet in reflected beams of quiet light. It gilded all the trees in gleams, and created shadows out of light. It washed over the rubble and ruin of twisted concrete and steel, bouncing off fallen spires and pooling under girders. It flushed the cheeks of the small group of almost-men resting on a rise just outside the destroyed city, and highlighted their frames that were almost as twisted as the remains of the city. Joints didn't seem to link right, and the subtle movements were a little too quick. The soft light gleamed in their eyes, flashing silver from their depths. One, the largest, encrusted in steel and what seemed to be stray bits of wire, rose up from where he, or it, was standing. Turning swiftly to face the others, he graveled out in a low, quiet, rough voice several orders; as one, the group rose up and began silently slipping down the hillside into town. So softly, as if their feet were themselves made of silence, they padded down the ravaged hillside, eyes swiveling back and forth, moonlight flashing as it reflected from their eyes. The leader, the behemoth, sliding and jumping with unnatural grace and speed, reached the bottom of the hill first, then crouched and rolled into the shadows cast by the jagged concrete teeth that were still left by the nearest decimated building. The rest of the squad split into three sub-groups, one rolling into the shadows behind their leader, the other two going in opposite directions around the city, again surrounded by an eerie silence. 

  After a momentary pause, when the two other groups had slipped like smoke into the shadows of the night, the Behemoth gestured for one of the other beings to join him where he peered keenly with lupine eyes into the night-shrouded city. In that same, gutturally graveled voice he gave out his command. "You take the side road" he rasped, pointing at a rusted, broken sign post bearing the smudged white letters "I'll take the main avenue. Stick to your orders. Remember that no-one lives. Understood?".

"Yes Captain." came the almost silent response.

"Lets go then."

With those three words, the Behemoth slid into the main avenue leading into the heart of the city, almost indistinguishible from the rubbled shade around him, only the moonlight quick enough to catch a silvered claw, or a gleaming eye, leaving the rest of the group of oddly shaped men to follow their orders.

   As the Behemoth ghosted down the avenue, relics from the past loomed around him like sentinels of a bygone age. Rusted, woebegone giants who were some of the only memories left of the bygone era, standing like mourners at a funeral, silent in their grief. Like a faint ribbon, threading through the broken buildings with its whisper of life, came the reedy cry that only the very young are able to produce, slicing through the night as if sound were made into a knifeblade. Ears pricking up, distorted nose raised in the air, the Behemoth halted in his silent advance, twisting his great head back and forth, homing in on the source of the pitiful cry. With a snap, his head whipped around to a dark alley nearby, malodourus and dank. With a savage grin curling across his jaw, exposing long, sharp fangs, he prowled into the mildewed alley, following the ribbon of sound.

  With the warm reds and oranges coming from the carefully sheltered yet cheerful fire jumping over the inner recesses of the room, the formerly dank and depressing room in the abandoned basement almost looked happy; in the same way it almost made the craggy planes of the man's visage look peaceful and content, seemed to make the sword on his hip a pretty thing, the throwing knives strapped to his chest toys for children. Whenever he nervously paced out of the room to see if the firelight was visible from the hallway,  the silvery streams of moonlight coming from the small window set high up on the wall would cast his features into their true set; worn with worry and fissured with fear. The man's two companions, a youthful woman whose odd expression seemed caught halfway between a merry thought and worriesome one, and the little boy cuddled in her arms, crying fitfully from an upset stomach. "Will you please make the baby be quiet!" said the man in a worried tone.

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" responded the woman in a frustrated and tired whisper "I'm not surprised that he is crying, the poor little creature, we've only been able to feed him things that I don't think are good for him."

"He is not a creature, he is a human! And if you don't get him to be quiet, with the way our luck has been turning out lately there will be a patrol of **** right outside our door!" snapped the worried man in a rising tone "And please, don't..."  

Whatever the man was about to say was cut short as they both heard a faint squeak from upstairs. Swiftly, almost without a pause for thought, the man threw a metal cover over the fire, plunging the room into darkness. The woman redoubled her efforts to quiet the child, gently covering his mouth with a shaking hand as she whispered promises of sweet things in his ear, succeeding in muffling his cries into small whimpers. Leaning forward, the man could feel his muscles tighten to the point of snapping, tilting his head in a desperate effort to hear, trying to ascertain if someone, anything was upstairs, knowing inside that if there was, he was a dead man. He heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. They stayed like this for a minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Time stretched, seeming like Eternity had been trapped in their small, dark, suddenly sweltering hot room with them, playfully placing his finger in the hourglass, allowing no time to pass. He could smell the metal cover heating up, the burning smell of hot metal growing stronger than the wet smell of the rotting concrete; his skin prickled as small beads of sweat joined together forming larger ones, trickling down the small of his back. Trying to ignore the sensations crowding in his head, he strained his ears for a sound. Any sound.

There. His head snapped up. His nose twitched. He smelled...something. Something wild. Something defintely not human. His left hand reached for the metal cover over the fire, carefully picking up a protective cloth on its way, carefully gripping the handle, firmly grasping it. His right hand hovered over the hunting rifle, then slowly, indecisively, moved to the hilt of the sword. The smell grew stronger and stronger, filling the darkness with its terrible smell; His ears caught the gentle rustling as the woman slowly worked her way as far away from the only door in the room as she could, slipping a long knife out of a sheath on her leg and placing the small, wide-eyed child behind her. The smell continued growing, and then he finally heard something. The soft sound of quiet feet, coming to a stop just outside the room. Gathering his strength, the man screamed as he ripped the sword free of its leather sheath and simultaneously threw the burning hot metal cover in the general direction of the front door. The oxygen-starved flame burst into life with the sudden influx of air, throwing the nightmarish scene into garish relief. The almost-men were just entering the room, sharp claws rising up to attack, drool dripping from their teeth. The scorching metal impacted the first almost-man in the jaw, sizzling as it struck hair and skin, filling the room with another sharp odor, burning flesh. Almost at the same moment the metal impacted, the man threw himself down along the floor, thrusting the shining steel of his sword into the furred belly of the beast, sinking it nearly a foot in before whipping it out, throwing himself to his feet, and continuing the smooth motion seperated the scorched head from its body. With barely room for breath, the rest of the the squad of almost-humans shouldered past the decapitated body and threw themselves into the room, long barbed swords at the ready.

  While normally sized, these were creatures to deprave the bravest man of his courage, the nightmares of terror thrown into the world, looking like a disastrous mix of wolf and human. Long, rear-jointed legs held their slender hairy torsos upright, balancing the too-fast movements of the powerful arms. The heads, more lupine than anything else, held gleaming red eyes that never rested, catching every detail possible. These were the monstrosities that pushed themselves into the tiny room, each wielding narrow swords that ended in hooks, trying to get to the human who stood in the middle of the room, next to the fire that seemed painfully bright after the dark night outside, making the man in the middle room little more than a blur of shining steel and movement, slashing off the writhing arm of on bestial in the same movement that removed its head, a storm of steel so furious that the pushing pack was repulsed for a moment. 

  Standing at guard, sword rising in front of him like an impenetrable barrier, the man closed his eyes, flaring his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. The fire, which was still flaring from its sudden influx of oxygen, suddenly dimmed; it retained its former size, yet dimmed, as if the light it was giving off was being absorbed into the lungs of the man. Again his nostrils flared as he breathed in, eyes shut in concentration. Again, the light dimmed further. With a flicker, the steel blade in his hands began to fill with light, stuttering across the surface like trapped lightning, growing brighter and brighter until the room was filled with its flickering blue radiance. Opening his eyes, the man leveled the sword at the wolf-men, standing erect and proud, seemingly a invulnerable hero from some past age, eyes filled with rage and echos of the lightning trapped in his sword.

"Those who remain here, will die." said the man in a sonorous, impressive tone "Leave now, or I will release my power, and you will burn."

The wolf-men paused, eyeing the glowing sword and then each other, yipping and shuffling their feet, unsure what to do. Slowly, the ones still in the hallway began backing up, still moving fluidly, but now there was a hint of fear in their step. The light flaring from the sword grew still brighter, filling the air with fear-edged crackling, weaving around the man's voice as he commanded again "Leave!".

  As the entire pack began to back out of the room, a few growling, others snarling, there was a loud SNAP, like a butcher had just stuck his cleaver in a side of beef. The wolfman furthest out of the room looked down in confusion at his chest, where a sharp piece of steel was protruding, then without making another sound, fell onto his face on the floor. Where he had been standing was the Behemoth, crouched down in the shadows of the hallway to fit his enormous bulk inside. "Do not run"  the Behemoth snarled.

   The rest of the pack began cowering, covering their heads and backing into the corners of the room, trying to pretend as if they had not just been about to run from a human, no matter how frightening. The Behemoth slowly entered the room, turning slightly sideways to fit his shoulders through the threshold, never taking his eyes from the solitary human standing by the dwindling fire. In its rough, guttural tones, the Behemoth rasped "Impressive, human. I have never seen this pack back down from anything remotely resembling food, particularly such a rare food they have never tasted before." It paused to grin, revealing a mouth full of dangerous looking teeth. "I understand why even they would cower in the presence of a human wielding a weapon that your kind have never been able to wield before. When did the humans pick up the ability to utilize Skyflame? I would have thought that they would have revealed such an ability when we began to slaughter your cities, destroy your families. Why would you begin to have this power now?" Its grin grew even broader "Of course, humans have always been innately proficient at manipulating light, cowering in the darkness as their betters took control of the world. I applaud your ability to act, but I see you. I see the weak, sniveling coward that your race has been revealed to be." 

  At the Behemoths words, the pack slowly stopped trying to cram themselves into the corners of the room and began to study the flickering sword with narrowing eyes, beginning to see how the light moved in repetitive patterns, how the electric-blue color changed hue as it traveled across the length of the sword. The man, seeing the changed demeanor of the pack, muttured under his breath and tightened his stance. The flickering light began to even out, grow stronger, and the light from the fire grew bright again, the red light of the fire melding with the blue light of the sword, growing ever brighter. The wide grin on the Behemoths face began to falter, a confused expression beginning to form on his face. That expression quickly shifted to disbelief, then a quick shout ripped from his chest. "Shield!" 

  Diving out of the room, snapping the frame in his haste, the beast flung himself down the hallway as the combined lights around the man suddenly snapped out, whipping bolts of energy into the heads of the wolf-pack, flinging them back against the wall and pinning them there. In less than a second, they were all dead, eyes staring glassily at the center of the room, singe marks detailing a singed spot on each of their foreheads.