Chapter 4 - The Beast UnleashedThe gunshot echoed through the sterile clinic like a thunderclap, shattering a wall-mounted monitor and sending glass raining down over the tile floor.
The operative screamed, dropping his weapon as the mastiff shook him like a rag doll, its powerful neck muscles tearing through tactical fabric and flesh with brutal efficiency. The second gunman panicked, swinging his submachine gun around to fire point-blank into the dog’s side.
"No!" Marcus screamed, diving behind a metal supply cart.
The mastiff didn't even flinch. Driven by an ancient, indestructible fury, the massive dog released the first man and lunged across the table, slamming its full weight into the second operative’s chest. The man crashed backward into the heavy glass supply cabinet, shattering it into a thousand glittering pieces.
Before the gunman could recover, the mastiff’s heavy jaws clamped down on his shoulder, pinning him to the floor with a terrifying, bone-crushing grip. The man went limp, passing out from the blinding agony.
The first operative, bleeding profusely from his shredded arm, scrambled backward on the bloody floor, his eyes wide with sheer terror. He reached for a secondary pistol tucked into his thigh holster, his fingers shaking uncontrollably.
"Monster... freak..." he muttered, raising the barrel toward the dog’s head.
Before he could pull the trigger, the clinic doors blew off their hinges.
Tommy Keen and four heavily armed Valente enforcers flooded the room, their weapons raised. Tommy didn't hesitate. Two rapid, deafening shots cracked through the air. The operative slumped forward, lifeless, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
For a moment, the room was dead silent, save for the frantic hum of the damaged medical equipment and the heavy, ragged breathing of the mastiff.
The dog stood over the fallen gunman, its gray fur matted with fresh blood—some of it the enemy’s, some of it leaking from its own fresh surgical stitches. It slowly turned its massive head toward the doorway, locking its dark, penetrating eyes directly onto Tommy Keen.
Tommy lowered his weapon slowly, his face pale. He had seen killers in his lifetime, but he had never seen anything like this.
"Boss," Tommy spoke into his lapel radio, his voice trembling slightly. "You need to get down here. The clinic was hit."
A crackle of static came through the earpiece, followed by Alio’s cold, unyielding voice.
"Is the dog alive?"
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Tommy looked at the massive beast, which slowly lowered its head, giving a low, deep rumble that vibrated through the floorboards—not a threat, but an acknowledgment.
"Yeah, boss," Tommy swallowed hard. "The dog’s alive. But I think the dog just started a war."
