GOD HATES HEAVY METAL: WOLFMOTHER

Rachel crouched in the darkness, fingertips brushing the metal band at the base of her skull, hidden by her hood. Below, five men laughed—her family’s murderers. She whispered a word.

From the shadows, two figures emerged—one sleek and silver, the other matte black, their eyes pulsing red. Wolves. Silent. Waiting.

The men barely had time to react. The silver one struck first, slicing through armor like paper. The black followed, its jaws crunching bone. Gunfire flared, but the wolves moved too fast—tearing, breaking, ending.

One man crawled back, gasping, hands slick with his own blood. He looked up at her, shaking. “Rachel… please—”

She tilted her head. The wolves mirrored her.

Another whisper.

They obeyed.

When it was over, the rain came, washing the streets clean. Rachel exhaled, her hands steady, her wolves at her side.

Far ahead, beyond the blood and bodies, the ones truly responsible celebrated the empire they had built off of the bodies of her family and others like them. Unaware of who they left for dead had just vanished into the night on a hunt. For them.

Art and story by Hal Hefner.
Produced by Catmonkey Studio