A Steampunk Guide to Hunting Monsters 15 | Page 11

the railings, which we were not aware of until it
jumped upon us, causing us to stumble back.
A shot rang out, and the werewolf yelped and
staggered back.
Lu Yan, the famous Monster hunter, armed
with silver bullets, emerged from a doorway.
“What are you doing?” he said to the wolf.
“You were my guest. I would have helped you.”
“You have never helped our kind,” the wolf
growled. “Th ese cells will be your tomb!”
Th e wolf threw itself into the crowd of
monsters as Lu Yan began to kill everything. He
came up behind us, guiding us like sheep, and
with every step something fell dead. I have slain a
few monsters. I have grown accomplished at this
feat, but he moved like the second hand of a clock,
and with each tick, another monster fell dead.
“Th e roof is the way out, now,” he said, coldly.
He slashed the head off of a reaching merman.
He threw a talisman over the railing which
seemed to magnetize all of the ghosts and burn
them up into ether! He stomped his foot upon
a chained group of gremlins and rammed a cross
through the head of a raging demon spirit before
I even managed to make out its features.
His guns unloaded silver into the majority of
the beasts (as many beasts as are aff ected by silver).
But the noise was so loud I had to cover my ears.
It was snowing inside at this moment.
To my surprise, the werewolf appeared just
outside of a cell, opening its door. Th ere, it stood
upon its legs and transformed into a man. A man
of beauty and danger, a man I had known: the
cowboy Winchester. He bled from his wound,
but grinned.
Lu Yan aimed, and I screamed, “No!” For I
knew the man!
But the shot only hit Winchester’s arm, and he