Bang

He no longer had control over the situation, there was doubt he had any to begin with. This creature, this monster, this dead king of vampires had proven to him that all his power was nothing in the face of him. Why was he even still alive? How? For as long as he could ever remember, he was strong, stronger than anything he had over come across. Nothing could harm him, no ONE could harm him. He could do anything, go anywhere, he was an unstoppable force. He was invincible. Was…

Now, screaming as he felt his flesh being pulled and warped by tendrils of pure shadow, any illusion of invincibility was long gone. Like a tumble weed, he was flitted across the clouds, his body scratched and carved by ethereal teeth and claws that treated his steel hard skin like tissue paper. Tendrils of darkness impaled through his stomach, his back, and his limbs, squirming through his flesh and raking his insides before being pulled out like a barbed spear.

Why hadn’t Dracula killed him? He had already proven over and over again that Karn’el had no chance of victory. So why? It wasn’t until it seemed Dracula would finally finish him off and impale him with a blade of shadow that simply paused at his body and then evaporate did Karn’el realise why.

He was playing with him.

The pain stopped with a crashing impact after Karn’el fell like a rock back to the Earth, slamming into the bed of a truck and folding it in half from his mass. Slowly rolling out of the crumpled hulk of metal to fall to all sixes and slump down to the ground, the alpha of the Krypto-wolves panting with blurred vision, not realising his eyes were missing. Scurrying back and giving the wounded wolf a wide berth, the rest of the festival survivors could only watch as Karn’el coughed and spat up blood and bile, his insides healing slowly, but not enough to restore him.

What was left of his ears twitched at the sound of screams as a downpour of darkness fell from the sky, funneled down to fall just in front of the injured wolf and spread out like an oily plume of smoke and shadow. The mass of darkness sprouting eyes and yawning mouths and tendrils that coiled and squirmed. In time, the chaotic mass retracted back, pulling itself inward, and reshaping into something solid. Hands formed, gloves with dark green sleeves, a leather shoes took a step out of the mass, Dracula had reassumed his physical form, where very quickly his wife came to his side to embrace him. Staring daggers down at the mess that was the Krypto-wolf who dared to challenge him.

“It is time little wounded animal.” Dracula stated, his chin high looking down at Karn’el. “I said I would slay you, make a spectacle of you, and now is the time.”

Sitting up, the wolf’s wounds slowly sealed up, healing and regenerating over the course of time still granted to him. Even without eyes he darted his head up, his sense of smell still working as he could smell his pack overhead, still floating above the buildings, waiting for his command. With a toothy smile, Karn’el chuckled despite his injuries.

“KILL HIM! KILL HIM MY PACK! THEN BURN THIS CITY TO THE GROUND!”

Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Darting his head back and forth to where he could hear his pack and the growing crowd of people step out of their hiding places, Karn’el didn’t understand what was going on.

“KILL HIM!”

“You don’t control us anymore son…” He heard his mother’s voice, cracked with both shame and anger.

A cold chill went up his spine as he sat up, the ramifications of those simple words. Even though he couldn’t see his mother and siblings, he could feel their eyes on him. Raising the stump of his arm as if to point an accusing finger, the wolf slunk back.

“You… You would not dare slay a son of the Wolf King!” Turning his head to the others around him, he had hoped for some backing, but instead found only silence.

“You used us…” Karin’el whispered, shock still in her voice.

“You robed us of our minds.” Accused Tarm’el, shaking his head and clenching all four of his claws tight. “You DRUGGED us!”

Looking to al the Kryptonian wolves now turned on their leader, Dracula smirked at the predicament. Almost smug in how things had turned for the injured opponent. “It would seem your army is no longer loyal to you, the consequences of not EARNING it. Now you die alone.”

Breathing hard and scurrying back in disbelief, Karn’el bared his chipped teeth in anger.

“No! I was told different. I was told a PROPHECY, one where I would rule the krypto-wolves and join the tribes together to defeat a great enemy!”

“And so, you have!” Called out a woman’s voice, one he recognised as he turned his head to face Bastet, who finally came out of hiding. “I told you I saw a future where you would lead the Krypto-Wolves and face Dracula, and that ONE of you would not survive. That the one who died had NO idea what killed him.”

“You… You PLANNED THIS! You WANTED me gone because you FEARED me!”

“Feared you?” Scoffed Bastet. “I had HIGH hopes for you boy, hopes that you could be the one to choose the path to unite the tribes AND stay alive. Instead, you chose glory over selflessness, I said my prophecy would end with one of you dying without ever even knowing it, YOU had to choose who that was.”

Giving Dracula a nod, the leader of the cats turned and left, returning to Umbra and her tribe who stood with the others, staring down at the wounded Krypto-Wolf. Frantic, Karn’el turned to where he smelled the whereabouts of his parents. “Mother! Wolf King! You would allow this?!”

Still pawing at his healing chest wound, Bruce narrowed his eyes at Karn’el, bringing Karen close as she couldn’t bare to look at her son. Realising he was being turned away, Karn’el snarled and snapped his jaws.

“YOU DARE TURN AWAY FROM ME?! I AM KARN’EL! THE GREATEST WOLF IN THE…”

The gunshot surprised everyone, the ‘bang’ ringing out for all to hear as everyone’s attention fell to KArn’el going silent and limp after the silver bullet passed through his skull from ear to pointed ear.