Craig Minor, June 13, 1983

Craig pulled into his driveway and surveyed the landscape of death before him. The rancid smell of a dozen mutilated bodies overwhelmed his nose, and his confused stomach threatened to wash vomit up and over his tongue. Normally, Lupis sapiens would feel their bloodlust rise when around such carnage, but this was different. This wasn’t a killing field; this was a charnel house. A dozen humans, Fectors, were lying dead around his yard. Injuries were hard to determine without examining each one, but a cursory glance showed they were violent. Primitive. Lupus did this. He was confused why the Fectors would be at his house, but he knew a Fector swarm when he saw one. They stay away from here. They have Lupis solitarius to hun...

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