@49125 liked for a werewolf!jason starter
his whole hind leg is on fire. it’s the only thing he can think as he limps through the back alleys of gotham, trying to avoid any other forms of life. a few houseless people spot him but they simply shoo him away the way they might any stray dogs hunting for scraps. despite the way he’s the size of a pony, standing roughly four and a half feet at the shoulder. it’s incredible, what the fog that settles over the mundane’s eyes can do. even if that’s the last thought on his mind right now.
one massive paw catches on a pothole and he staggers, sending agony lancing up his leg. fucking silver bullets. fucking monster hunters. fucking full moon preventing him from shifting back and removing the bullets himself. he snarls, low in his throat, startling a few cats hiding in the debris that scatters the alley he currently finds himself in. he tries to settle his weight only for the leg to buckle under him. fuck. he just needs to get to his safe house with the garage entrance. if he can just get there一
footsteps at the opening of the alley make him lift his head, his instinctive growl deepening when he recognizes the figure blocking his exit. fucking monster hunter, kitted out with an entire arsenal geared specifically toward killing people like jason. green eyes glow in the low light and he bares his fangs, heart thundering in his chest. fear, he realizes. that’s what courses through his veins alongside the surge of adrenaline at being found by his pursuer. the one thing higher on the food chain than he is. a mundane with a god complex.
there’s no words from the man at the end of the alley, just a gun raised. a shot rings out and jason leaps to the side, panting in agony as his leg screams at him. another shot and he staggers, feeling a line of fire along his shoulder as the bullet grazes close enough to leave a furrow in his skin.
he steps back, wobbling on his paws, ears flat back against his head, tail down, and hackles raised. the man steps forward and jason limps backward with each step, trying to discourage the approach with his snarls to no avail.
his hind legs hit a gate at the end of the alley, bringing him to an abrupt stop. the man keeps approaching, gun raised, only stopping when jason whips his head forward and snaps at him, teeth closing only a few inches from his hand. he tests his injured legs, hoping to spring at the man and tear his fucking throat out with his teeth, but his back leg gives before he can even get it fully under him, and he falls to his belly. his growl cuts off as the wind gets knocked out of him.
the gun lowers to point directly between his eyes. bullet through the skull. a confirmed kill.
green eyes squeeze shut as jason prepares himself to die again. he hopes it’s for good this time. a loud whine slips from his throat without his consent, a call for a pack he doesn’t have. for a rescue that will never come.
