CLAWS AND LAWS

The night was heavy with tension, as if the very air itself had been waiting for this moment.

Sade's Mansion

Sade reclined on her luxurious bed, her body wrapped in silk sheets, while a team of doctors tended to her wounds. The large screen on the wall illuminated the dimly lit room, broadcasting the chaos unfolding at Lantoro Hospital.

Her cold eyes remained fixed on the screen, watching Ajoke, her younger sister, transform from a towering beast back into a fragile, trembling woman.

The police wasted no time—Ajoke was chained and dragged away. The flashing lights of the patrol cars painted her pale skin in red and blue, a sight that sent a satisfied smirk to Sade's lips.

She took a slow, painful breath and whispered, "Let's see how you escape this time."

Her fingers traced the scar on her arm, a reminder of the war she had started. And now, the whole world knew the truth—werewolves existed.

The Bar Near Odo Ogun

The old bar was thick with cigarette smoke, the scent of cheap alcohol lingering in the air. Dim yellow bulbs flickered, barely keeping the place from sinking into darkness. It was the kind of place where regret and whiskey were served in equal measure.

Tonight, however, there was no drunken laughter, no shouting over card games. Every eye was glued to the small, dusty TV mounted in the corner. The screen flickered, showing the impossible.

Ajoke.

A werewolf.

Captured.

And then, her body changing back into human form.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Only the distant sound of crickets and the occasional clinking of ice against glass filled the silence.

Then, from the far end of the bar, Baba Yanju, the oldest patron, exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Owuye." His raspy voice carried across the room.

A younger man, Shogo, frowned. "What about him?"

Baba Yanju leaned forward, his wrinkled hands tightening around his glass. "Owuye was right. The old fool was right all along."

Shogo scoffed, though his voice was shaky. "Come on, Baba. You can't be serious."

Baba Yanju gestured at the screen with his cup. "Look at that and tell me what you see."

Shogo glanced at the TV, his throat dry. "A woman."

Baba Yanju's lips curled. "And before?"

Shogo hesitated. "A… monster."

A deep chuckle came from another corner of the bar. It was Dauda, the bartender, cleaning a glass with a rag. "Monsters? No o. We drink with monsters every day, Shogo. You just never paid attention."

Laughter rippled through the room, uneasy, forced.

From a dark booth near the window, a grizzled man in a police jacket—a retired officer—slammed his glass down. His name was Sergeant Kolade, and he had been one of the many who had dismissed Detective Owuye as a lunatic.

Now, his hands were shaking.

He turned to Baba Yanju, voice low, almost reverent. "Owuye tried to tell us. We laughed at him."

Another man, Taju the mechanic, downed his drink in one gulp and let out a sharp breath. "The man would be laughing his drunk ass off right now if he were still alive."

Baba Yanju grinned. "If? You sure Owuye is dead?"

A heavy silence fell over them. The thought sent shivers down their spines.

The TV continued playing, showing Ajoke being loaded into a police van, her eyes filled with defiance and fear.

Dauda poured himself a shot of gin and muttered, "The world just changed, my friends. And I don't think we're ready."

No one disagreed.

Deep in the Woods…

The forest was alive with sorrow.

Akintola, still in his werewolf form, stood beneath the moonlit canopy, his golden eyes blazing. His massive chest rose and fell as rage and despair twisted inside him.

Then, he threw his head back and released a howl so deep, so mournful, it shook the trees.

From the shadows, other wolves joined in.

Their cries echoed into the night, a haunting melody that carried across the land. They all knew the truth now:

Their world would never be the same again.

And neither would humanity's.

The throne room, once heavy with political tension, was now filled with silence—a silence that carried the weight of fear and disbelief.

Governor Ogungbe stood rigid, his usually confident posture faltering as he stared at the TV screen mounted on the palace wall. Beside him, Chief Olumide gripped his staff tightly, his face unreadable. Prince Adewale stood at his father's side, fists clenched, his breathing unsteady.

And at the center of it all, seated on his beaded throne, was Oba Alake of Ile-Egba.

His wrinkled hands tightened around the armrest of his throne as he watched the breaking news:

Live from Lantoro Hospital… a woman, now confirmed to be Ajoke Ajumobi, has been seen shifting from a monstrous wolf-like creature into a human before being taken into police custody. Experts are still struggling to explain the phenomenon…

The footage played again. And again.

The air in the palace grew colder.

Finally, Ogungbe let out a slow breath. "This is… impossible."

Oba Alake's face remained stone-like. "Impossible? Did we not hear stories as children? Did the old hunters not speak of beasts that roam under the full moon?"

Olumide, ever the schemer, chuckled nervously. "Yes, Kabiyesi, but we called them tales. Now, we are seeing them with our own eyes."

Prince Adewale took a step forward. "What do we do?"

All eyes turned to the king.

Oba Alake exhaled, tapping his royal staff against the marble floor. His voice was calm, but his words carried weight. "We do what our ancestors would have done—we prepare."

Governor Ogungbe's politician's mind was already racing. "Prepare? No, Kabiyesi, we must act immediately. The world is watching. If we do not contain this… this thing, panic will spread. Investors will flee. Our people will lose trust in the government!"

Oba Alake's eyes darkened. "Your first concern is the economy?"

Ogungbe turned to face him. "And yours is a war we do not understand?"

For a moment, tension hung between them.

Then, Olumide cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, perhaps we must consider both perspectives." He turned to the king. "Kabiyesi, if this were the old days, hunters and warriors would be summoned to deal with this." Then, to Ogungbe, "Your Excellency, the government's forces—soldiers, police, even scientists—must also be involved."

The king remained silent. Then, he spoke.

"Summon the council of chiefs. Summon the elders. The old ways may yet hold the answers."

Governor Ogungbe straightened. "And I will summon my cabinet. We must prepare for whatever this means—military, media control, and containment."

Prince Adewale, still watching the screen, whispered, "What if there are more?"

No one had an answer.

But they all knew one thing—the world had changed. And if they did not act quickly, Ile-Egba would never be the same again.