The second pair of guards would fare no better.
Their evil made them targets
But their carelessness made them prey.
The first, entertained
By the songs of the drunken victims
As they approached, never saw his end coming
Nor did he have a chance to cry out.
The second, asleep at his post,
Passed from this life to the next undisturbed.
The third team died quickly… but not quietly.
One died messily, his neck broken
As the wolf violently worried it
Like an old dog with a shoe.
His companion had the presence of mind
To scream before he died,
Causing the drunks to pause as they
Staggered toward their attackers…
And warning the men in the main ambush
Of death's nearness.
Deep in discussion, laying plans and
Preparing their weapons, the wolf's attack
Caught them neither off-guard nor unprepared.
Hit from behind, the leader rolled sideways
And fired a shot at point-blank range
Right into the wolf's belly.
Supposedly a silver bullet,
The wolf ignored it.
His surviving partners raised their weapons
As the blur of fur and fangs never paused.
One man fired and missed, the second never fired
As the wolf crashed into his chest,
Tore out his throat, and turned to the survivor
With a single graceful move –
A ballet in blood, for wolf and three victims.
He trotted away from the corpses
With an uneven gait, blood drip-drip-
Dripping from his side,
A few more drops in an ocean of blood.
The drunken victims would never have noticed,
Had they gotten that far.
They were overcome by their vices
And dropped in their tracks, bodies
Awaiting discovery in the morning…
Much like Chase's nine brigands,
Except their headaches weren't fatal.