The weretigers were massive beasts, two males and one female. The size differentiated them; the males were a good foot taller, though even the female was at least seven foot. Her four rows of firm breasts were another dead giveaway. They resembled nothing less than massive tigers that had learned to walk upright. Beneath their fur lay minds of merged human logic and bestial instinct.
The female and one male leaped from behind and to Felicia’s side, distracting the soldiers from the third which pounced on Felicia from the tree line. She collapsed under its crushing weight as its massive paw effortlessly batted her gun from her hand. It clonked into the dirt alongside the scuffle.
Christopher dodged as best he could around the other two, firing as precisely as possible while his reinforced body armor took the brunt of their sharp claws and rending fangs. He was thankful the armor was as strong as it was, designed specifically to lessen chances of penetration and exposure to Umbrella’s various biological agents. Still, it wouldn’t hold up long against this onslaught.
Felicia fought with the male as its cruel claws sliced through the Kevlar covering her arms and chest and its jaws came ever closer to bare, susceptible flesh. She reached for her knife, straining to grab it as the weretiger fought her every step of the way.
The tide finally turned with a snap shot from Christopher. The male attacking him roared in pain and fury as the silver entered its bloodstream via his shoulder. He began clawing at the wound, trying to dig the projectile free.
Felicia, meanwhile, brought her knees into the stomach of the beast and pushed herself over, flipping it overhead with her and onto its back. With a warrior’s bellow, jumped to her feet and drew her knife for a quick slash at its eyes. Though she caught its left eye with the blade, it countered more quickly than she could have imagined, and snatched her arm on the backswing. She shouted out in pain as it threatened to crush the bone with its strength.
The wounded weretiger’s female mate growled angrily and charged, only to be met with a more precise shot from Christopher’s rifle. The bullet found her brain after lancing through her open mouth, bringing her down quickly and decisively. Her mate, unsuccessful in extracting the poison projectile in his shoulder, elected to retreat.
Felicia kicked desperately to break the joint lock as the knife fell from her unresponsive fingers. The weretiger slashed through the last Kevlar in her suit’s left arm as she made a desperate grab with her off hand for her nearby rifle.
She seized it by the stock, in time for the weretiger to plunge its fangs deep into her left bicep.
Felicia’s scream alerted Christopher, still covering the fleeing male’s exodus. He turned to see her being viciously bitten, and though he wanted to shout in anger, he forced himself to keep his cool.
One bullet from his rifle, careening soundly through the beast’s spine, snapped it away from his comrade. Felicia gritted her teeth against the pain as she took hold of the grip and raised her weapon.
“Fuck you!” She emptied a good quarter of the clip into its skull before she finally got hold of herself. As she slumped back against a nearby tree, bleeding and thoroughly infected with Christopher trying to carefully bandage her wounds, the two dead weretigers reverted to their naked human shapes.
“Leave me,” Felicia spat, half delirious from blood loss. “I’m gone, I’m one of them now!”
“There’s gotta be a cure in there,” Christopher told her sternly, though he was still trying to convince himself. “Let me call Barry. Don’t quit on me, Kid!”
Felicia did her best to keep a strong face up, though she knew her chances were slim. If the antibody even worked, then she had a little less than an hour before she changed.
But if that was so, then why was she already feeling the tiger’s presence in her mind?