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Description
Pam Walker stepped outside of the holding facility to assist the Hunter who had just radioed in. His van crunched on snow-dusted gravel as he pulled it up to the building. He hopped out to unload the prisoner from the back. Pam whistled when she caught scent of the prisoner.

"A human?"

"Captured him last night after someone reported being stalked," he said. "Werewolf hunter, among other unsavory things I turned up. Humans'd be glad if they knew we took him off their hands."

"Well, I guess they can't all be Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome like the movies would have you believe," she said.

The blond human peered pleadingly from behind lopsided glasses.

"Please, madam, help! He's crazy. Look what he did to me!"

Pam rolled her eyes.

"Save it, human. I am curious though, what's with the straightjacket? Hardly looks like a vicious killer."

"Took a swing at me when I was trying to hustle him into the van," the Hunter said. "Figured this'd teach him some manners."

"I was only defending myself, you brute! Now, if you don't want me to sue you for all you've got, you'll release me!"

Pam laughed roughly. She was no stranger to the aggressive, the rude, and the psychotic, but funny prisoners were few and far between. She motioned for the Hunter to lead his catch inside.

"Got a cell all set up," she said as they entered the drab and dimly lit hallway. "We'll put him in next to Psycho. Got a real good interrogator coming up tomorrow to do him. Figure I'll have him do the human too while he's at it."

The Hunter walked on in indifferent silence, but the human was clearly clinging to every word she uttered. His voice was small, laced with the unmistakable quiver of fear.

"Psy… psycho?"

"Aww, don't worry your scruffy little head," Pam said. "You got your own place to stay until the trial. See, no one can get you in there."

She swung the door open and stepped back to reveal a Spartan cell, an amused grin sweeping her face. The human struggled feebly against the powerful arms of the Hunter.

"Trial? You're going to put me on trial? That is an outrage! I refuse to allow myself to be judged by a bunch of... of... animals! Release me this instant!"

"Too bad," the Hunter said dryly. "I was just about to take off the straightjacket for you. Guess you still have to work on those manners."

He shoved the human into the tiny cell, unconcerned that with a lack of arms to flail he lost his balance and fall flat on his face. Pam left with the Hunter to assist him in restocking the van with supplies. Defiant cries fired at their backs.

"Mongrels! You can't do this to me! I have rights!"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will annoy the hell out of me, so give a wolf's ears a break and keep in down in there."

The human flinched at the deep, gravelly voice. It was slightly muffled, and he realized that the speaker was on the other side of the right wall of his cell. The realization of the speaker's identity dawned on him, but he felt emboldened by the protective barrier.

"Psycho? Well, it really is too bad you don't like the sound of my voice. It's not like you can come in here and shut me up."

"Do you like to sleep, human? I like sleeping. In fact, I was doing that when they dragged you in here. You woke me up. As much as I enjoy sleep, I can go without it for quite some time. I can lean against your wall, and I can howl, and pant, and snarl, and make all sorts of other… interesting noises. Would you like to hear that for the next few nights as you try to drift off to sleep?"

He had to admit, it was an impressive non-physical threat.

"Fine, I'll be quiet if you will, psycho."

"Ignore the cute nickname. You can call me Sombra."

"'Sombra?' That's not a real name. What, were you embarrassed with the one you were stuck with and decided to make something up?"

"It has a meaning. Obviously you are not educated enough to understand, human."

"Well, if we're going down that route you may call me Fredrick, and I'll have you know that I possess a M.D.-PhD with a specialty in neuroscience. Doubt you can top that."

There was a hideous retching sound from the adjacent cell.

"I hate doctors. And 'Fredrick?' What kind of a name is that? You might as well be Sue, or Nancy."

He gave a rumbling growl of a laugh that made the hair stand up on the back of the doctor's neck and anger twist in his gut.

"You wouldn't be laughing if I had you strapped down to my table right now. I'd inject my wonder drug into your veins, and your mind would be wiped clean of all memories. That's what I'm here for. Pulled it off for a couple of years, capturing your kind and mindwiping them to sell to the highest bidder. Guess some of your people weren't too pleased with me making a profit off of their kin."

After several seconds Sombra replied, speaking slowly as if still mulling over his thoughts.

"Shoot, I never met a genuine werewolf hunter before. How many did you capture before they nabbed you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I lost count after a while. And what, may I ask, are you here for? It obviously must be something impressive to have been earned you such a lovely nickname."

"Indeed," Sombra responded with a chuckle. "I am a much-hated but much-needed creature. I represent a cleansing anarchy that must be brought to our people if we are to reconnect with who we really are. The Pack is corrupt, led by bleeding hearts who want us all to protect humans as if they were innocent little lambs. I loathe them even more than your kind. My life's mission was to tear them down, piece by piece. I nearly succeeded. Now I will die for my so-called crimes. I do hope they will kill you first and let me watch."

There was no verbal response, but the doctor's breathing said it all. Though the metal mask secured to his head to trap him in his human form prevented Sombra from shifting his ears, they were still sensitive enough to pick up the sounds of distress. The human was hyperventilating, giving in to a panic attack brought on by the thought of his imminent death. It was sweet music to ears that had gone too long without being treated to the terror brought by his presence. He closed his eyes and let a soft moan escape his lips.

"It will be nice, Freddy; a proper, bloody death. The Pack elders are a bunch of ritualistic fools. They will take you outside and give you a mock trial. No matter what you say they will find you guilty. Then they will summon the executioner. He will come and take your throat into his jaws and crush it. It will hardly require any effort at all for him to separate your trachea from the rest of your body. Believe me, I've had plenty of practice. Then they will take your still-warm corpse and throw it into a bonfire. Burn the flesh away, grind the charred bones to dust and let the wind scatter them. All gone. That is what they do to people like you and me."

"Stop it!"

"Yes, give in to it. Give in to your fear. Imagine what it will feel like when those teeth pierce your throat. Think of the blood. Visualize your flesh boiling away in that fire."

The doctor's breathing deepened into stifled sobs, and the straightjacket only added insult to injury since he was not able to wipe the tears from his face. Sombra growled softly at the new sound of despair.

"Mmm, you cry like a woman, Freddy. So unbecoming of a man. How weak those wolves must have been, to fall prey to something so pathetic. Nothing short of a professional Hunter could ever lay a hand on me."

He listened for another snappy comeback, and was actually a bit disappointed when none was hurtled at him.

"What gives, doc? First you can't shut up, now you can't stop blubbering? Humans never cease to amuse me. So nice of my enemies to provide me with a source of entertainment in my final days."

Description
Pam Walker stepped outside of the holding facility to assist the Hunter who had just radioed in. His van crunched on snow-dusted gravel as he pulled it up to the building. He hopped out to unload the prisoner from the back. Pam whistled when she caught scent of the prisoner.

"A human?"

"Captured him last night after someone reported being stalked," he said. "Werewolf hunter, among other unsavory things I turned up. Humans'd be glad if they knew we took him off their hands."

"Well, I guess they can't all be Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome like the movies would have you believe," she said.

The blond human peered pleadingly from behind lopsided glasses.

"Please, madam, help! He's crazy. Look what he did to me!"

Pam rolled her eyes.

"Save it, human. I am curious though, what's with the straightjacket? Hardly looks like a vicious killer."

"Took a swing at me when I was trying to hustle him into the van," the Hunter said. "Figured this'd teach him some manners."

"I was only defending myself, you brute! Now, if you don't want me to sue you for all you've got, you'll release me!"

Pam laughed roughly. She was no stranger to the aggressive, the rude, and the psychotic, but funny prisoners were few and far between. She motioned for the Hunter to lead his catch inside.

"Got a cell all set up," she said as they entered the drab and dimly lit hallway. "We'll put him in next to Psycho. Got a real good interrogator coming up tomorrow to do him. Figure I'll have him do the human too while he's at it."

The Hunter walked on in indifferent silence, but the human was clearly clinging to every word she uttered. His voice was small, laced with the unmistakable quiver of fear.

"Psy… psycho?"

"Aww, don't worry your scruffy little head," Pam said. "You got your own place to stay until the trial. See, no one can get you in there."

She swung the door open and stepped back to reveal a Spartan cell, an amused grin sweeping her face. The human struggled feebly against the powerful arms of the Hunter.

"Trial? You're going to put me on trial? That is an outrage! I refuse to allow myself to be judged by a bunch of... of... animals! Release me this instant!"

"Too bad," the Hunter said dryly. "I was just about to take off the straightjacket for you. Guess you still have to work on those manners."

He shoved the human into the tiny cell, unconcerned that with a lack of arms to flail he lost his balance and fall flat on his face. Pam left with the Hunter to assist him in restocking the van with supplies. Defiant cries fired at their backs.

"Mongrels! You can't do this to me! I have rights!"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will annoy the hell out of me, so give a wolf's ears a break and keep in down in there."

The human flinched at the deep, gravelly voice. It was slightly muffled, and he realized that the speaker was on the other side of the right wall of his cell. The realization of the speaker's identity dawned on him, but he felt emboldened by the protective barrier.

"Psycho? Well, it really is too bad you don't like the sound of my voice. It's not like you can come in here and shut me up."

"Do you like to sleep, human? I like sleeping. In fact, I was doing that when they dragged you in here. You woke me up. As much as I enjoy sleep, I can go without it for quite some time. I can lean against your wall, and I can howl, and pant, and snarl, and make all sorts of other… interesting noises. Would you like to hear that for the next few nights as you try to drift off to sleep?"

He had to admit, it was an impressive non-physical threat.

"Fine, I'll be quiet if you will, psycho."

"Ignore the cute nickname. You can call me Sombra."

"'Sombra?' That's not a real name. What, were you embarrassed with the one you were stuck with and decided to make something up?"

"It has a meaning. Obviously you are not educated enough to understand, human."

"Well, if we're going down that route you may call me Fredrick, and I'll have you know that I possess a M.D.-PhD with a specialty in neuroscience. Doubt you can top that."

There was a hideous retching sound from the adjacent cell.

"I hate doctors. And 'Fredrick?' What kind of a name is that? You might as well be Sue, or Nancy."

He gave a rumbling growl of a laugh that made the hair stand up on the back of the doctor's neck and anger twist in his gut.

"You wouldn't be laughing if I had you strapped down to my table right now. I'd inject my wonder drug into your veins, and your mind would be wiped clean of all memories. That's what I'm here for. Pulled it off for a couple of years, capturing your kind and mindwiping them to sell to the highest bidder. Guess some of your people weren't too pleased with me making a profit off of their kin."

After several seconds Sombra replied, speaking slowly as if still mulling over his thoughts.

"Shoot, I never met a genuine werewolf hunter before. How many did you capture before they nabbed you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I lost count after a while. And what, may I ask, are you here for? It obviously must be something impressive to have been earned you such a lovely nickname."

"Indeed," Sombra responded with a chuckle. "I am a much-hated but much-needed creature. I represent a cleansing anarchy that must be brought to our people if we are to reconnect with who we really are. The Pack is corrupt, led by bleeding hearts who want us all to protect humans as if they were innocent little lambs. I loathe them even more than your kind. My life's mission was to tear them down, piece by piece. I nearly succeeded. Now I will die for my so-called crimes. I do hope they will kill you first and let me watch."

There was no verbal response, but the doctor's breathing said it all. Though the metal mask secured to his head to trap him in his human form prevented Sombra from shifting his ears, they were still sensitive enough to pick up the sounds of distress. The human was hyperventilating, giving in to a panic attack brought on by the thought of his imminent death. It was sweet music to ears that had gone too long without being treated to the terror brought by his presence. He closed his eyes and let a soft moan escape his lips.

"It will be nice, Freddy; a proper, bloody death. The Pack elders are a bunch of ritualistic fools. They will take you outside and give you a mock trial. No matter what you say they will find you guilty. Then they will summon the executioner. He will come and take your throat into his jaws and crush it. It will hardly require any effort at all for him to separate your trachea from the rest of your body. Believe me, I've had plenty of practice. Then they will take your still-warm corpse and throw it into a bonfire. Burn the flesh away, grind the charred bones to dust and let the wind scatter them. All gone. That is what they do to people like you and me."

"Stop it!"

"Yes, give in to it. Give in to your fear. Imagine what it will feel like when those teeth pierce your throat. Think of the blood. Visualize your flesh boiling away in that fire."

The doctor's breathing deepened into stifled sobs, and the straightjacket only added insult to injury since he was not able to wipe the tears from his face. Sombra growled softly at the new sound of despair.

"Mmm, you cry like a woman, Freddy. So unbecoming of a man. How weak those wolves must have been, to fall prey to something so pathetic. Nothing short of a professional Hunter could ever lay a hand on me."

He listened for another snappy comeback, and was actually a bit disappointed when none was hurtled at him.

"What gives, doc? First you can't shut up, now you can't stop blubbering? Humans never cease to amuse me. So nice of my enemies to provide me with a source of entertainment in my final days."