The ghoul that came for Lola had open sores along its body that were crusted over with dried pus. The tattered strips of cloth it wore as clothing were stained in dozens of spots. Just looking at the creature disgusted both of them. Russel’s first reaction was to intervene, but he forced himself to stop that impulse. She was right. If she didn’t take care of it herself, she would never know how strong she was or how capable. She would always live her life running and scared. Stepping in now would only hurt her. But he told himself he would rip the ghoul’s head off if it so much as scratched her.

Lola, however, quickly proved to be a much better fighter than the ghoul and within a few minutes, she had opened up over a dozen deep gashes all along its body. Black, sludge-like blood oozed out of the wounds and its hissing got louder.

Its narrow, black eyes were focused entirely on her. It hissed, spittle flying out of its mouth. Further back, still hidden by the woods, Lola and Russel could see the darting forms of the other ghouls. She couldn’t tell for sure, but she was positive they were watching everything with avid intensity.

Lola was rapidly gaining more confidence with each strike. The ghoul was fast but all the training she went through with Russel had an enormous impact on her speed, strength, agility, and dexterity. With the rash, impulsive nature of the ghoul’s attacks, she was able to easily predict where it was going to strike and take the offensive.

It dashed in again, so quickly she would have certainly been killed if she had been the same person she had been just weeks ago. Now, however, she telegraphed the attack, slipped out and away from its outstretched talon-claw, and struck a powerful slice through its skin, muscle, and even bone. When it was all said and done, one of its arms lay flopping and jerking on the ground.

“Impressive,” Russel said.

The compliment boosted her confidence even more but she didn’t let it get to her head. She still kept a careful eye on the creature. It was far from being out of the fight. She kept an ever-present eye on the other ghouls too, just to make sure they were still staying out of the fight after she lopped off their comrade’s arm. As far as she could tell, they weren’t coming any closer. If they did and decided to converge on her all at once, she knew she would be in trouble. She let that fear slip past her though and trusted that Russel would be there to protect her if that happened. He was one werewolf against a bunch of ghouls but she knew he was strong. He could take them.

Hopefully anyway.

The ghoul came back in for one last attack. Its dark eyes gleamed as it did, its remaining talon-claw held up as if it were going to impale her on it. The hissing snarl coming out of it was something she had gotten used to now. It didn’t scare her at all anymore. The rancid, overwhelming smell of decay and rot wafting out toward her, however, was another matter entirely. She tried hard not to let the smell overpower her. It made her stomach want to heave out all its contents and was dangerously close to making her eyes water. She couldn’t afford that. It would blur her vision and make it harder for her to see the thing.

Lola forced control over those reactions, kept her breathing still and even, and then struck with her blade in a swift, decisive, whirling arc that landed right at the base of the ghoul’s neck. Her sword went through with the ease of a knife slicing through a block of cheese. There was a strained, gurgling sound that came from it and then its head slid off its body and thunked to the ground. It rolled across the leaves and forest detritus and came to a stop with the creature’s eyes open and staring up at the sky.

“Get ready!” Russel shouted. “The rest are making their move.”

Lola tore her gaze from the decapitated head on the ground and whirled to face the other ghouls. Shrieks, hissing, and clicking growls erupted from seemingly everywhere at once as the monsters came for them.