Hell's Fist

Zhan Sheng's eyes felt like they were welded shut, and he groaned as he tried to peel them open, his vision was clouded with grogginess and his mouth tasted like ash. As his senses gradually awakened, he became aware of a metallic scent hanging in the air, assaulting his nostrils. What happened? All he could remember falls feeling the rush of his devil's qi following through his veins like a current, and then he succumbed to darkness. The dim light filtering through the room revealed a shocking sight that sent a chill coursing through his veins. What is that?

What the fuck? Covered in sticky, crimson stains, Zhan Sheng sat up abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the vicious claw marks gouged into the walls, resembling the marks of a savage beast. Panic surged within him as he glanced down at his torn and tattered clothes, remnants of his transformation into his lycan form. What happened?