The sky was a dreary abysmal gray. It seemed as if it was slowly constricting the world; suffocating it. The clock tower in the square of the small town nestled in the Appalachian mountains of the northeast sounded 3 bells, meaning 3 pm. The town seemed to stand still, as if abandoned. Only occasionally did a disgruntled and exhausted mother emerge from the launder-o-mat across the street and disappear into a small Oldsmobile to drive off to the edge of town with a basket of clean laundry in the backseat. The sky grew darker, and darker. Occasionally, people would stare at the sky and begin to rush, in attempting to avoid the storm that seemed to be imminent. The weather in this oceanic valley changed in the blink of an eye. The natives often speak of tales in which it rained, snowed, sun shone, a lightning storm and a tornado occurred all within one hour. While this I always believed was false, due to the drastic temperature changed needed for a tornado to occur while it snowed shortly before, I have witnessed snow in July and 90 degree weather in January in this small, sleepy town.
Around 3: 27 pm, the sky grew a green, and began to tempest. Thunder shook the ground, lightning flashes across the sky, hitting an occasional empty patch of asphalt or tall white pine. Blinds began to part and doors began to open as curious humans wandered from their desks and daily jobs to witness what seemed to be the collapse of any common weather pattern ever recorded. All eyes were on the skies, holding hat brims or hair behind their ears. The wind began to whip the suspended store placards, sending them swinging wildly, even knocking the one from the Performing Arts center loose from the frame. Rain began to pour, coating the street. This rain coated everything, causing it to drip with a sickly black tar-like substance. It wasn't an ordinary rain, and this wasn't some ordinary storm.
The sky grew black, the center of the tempest above glowed a tainted yellow hue, slowly pulsing. A religious man from a small blue building near the square emerged, wielding an umbrella and hip waders, crying out nonsense about the coming of "The End". He pleaded that everyone should stay inside until this rain ceased. He believe that if a human was to touch even a drop of this black liquid, they would be infused with the evil of the devil. He was one of these newfound "Natural Evil" cultists who was growing in popularity. Everyone except believers just ignored they existed. However, this storm made a few begin to recognize the beliefs, or at least the existence of some supernatural force swallowing the town. Some stared in wonder while others cowered in a dark corner, clutching a flashlight and cell phone.
After a few minutes, the tempest broke; lightning flashing, igniting the black liquid that coated the town. That town burned. Everything coated in flames, smokeless. The crier from the cult still preaching in the street, just stood still, staring at his arm. He didn't scream or writhe in agony as the town lit up around him. He turned his glare to the sky, to the center of the twisting clouds. The center glowed brightly as the fire in the town turned black and red. The brightest of the fire's color fading to a dark blood-red; the darkest parts burned an ebony black. Even the lightning began to flash a dark green. The whole scene was straight from some dark, long-lost tome that some sci-fi writer would have depicted during the arrival of the devil upon the human world.
The center of the storm glowed brightly, the thunder rumbled across the town, physically shaking the ground and foundations of everything within 10 miles. A beam burst forth, collapsing the swirling clouds in the sky, revealing a startling assembly of stars in a multitude of colors. The outlines of several figures decorated those heavens. The sky remained black, the figures of beasts speckled the skies, outlined in one color, filled in with another. The beam struck the ground, causing a crater inside the light. The crater struck the exact center of the intersection of the large east to west interstate route and the town's main street. The fires still burned, the beam began to fade. The town was in total chaos, but no humans ran rampant in those streets. The huddled under awnings from the shops or opened windows and stared inn complete wonder and fear at the beam of light. The beam faded, revealing a dark figure standing in the center of the small 15 foot diameter crater. It was crouched on one knee, head hanging low. After a moment of hushed comments, the black fires began to die. Nothing was charred, the black liquid burned away. The crier had fallen backward onto his back, about 30 feet from the crater, staring at the figure rising onto his feet from him. His head remained low, until onto his feet.
The sky began to return to a normal gray. Eyelids pulled back on the figure, revealing blood red pupils with black filling the rest. The cultist sighed a disbelieving phrase, causing the figure to turn his head towards the crier. The man slowly faded to show skin and hair. He looked as if he was human, but clearly he was something not of Earth. The clothing of the man was one of mostly black plates of metal, red metal buckles and trim. Dawned over the plates of metal was a black leather trench-coat. The man's hair was slicked back and pulled into a hair tie. His black hair hung to the middle of his back and blew gently in the remnants of the storm's breeze. The face of the man was still unseen, somehow shaded over by a force no one could justify physically. The man turned to face the cultist, and took very heavy stepped strides toward him, moving slowly. Each footstep caused the ground to shake. The man's eyes did not change to normal, they remained as demonic and soulless as any could imagine even the devil of possessing. Whatever this was, it was far beyond the evil image that even the devil could possess. The man lumbered over the cultist, glaring down at him, his eyes seeming to send beams of light like a sniper rifle onto the man's face.
"Where am I?" The beast bellowed in a growl that shook the air. The cultist shivered and stared for a moment before stuttering.
"I- In N-New Hampshire." The man began to try to get to his feet. The beasts hand shot forward towards the man, blowing a hole clean through the cultist's chest, splattering blood onto the beast's clothing and the tar. Cries rang out from the people around the town square. The beast looked over to the crowds with a slow, deathly glare, his eyes scanning every being. The beast then became one quite literally, transforming to a large wolf-like creature. The man growing in mass and strength, his anatomy reconfiguring with such ease that it seemed impossible, yet frightening. Long claws and fangs that seemed to glisten in the light. The eyes remained a demonic gaze. With a howl, the large wolf broke apart into a flurry of small ones. These wolves took off across the town, grabbing any young child or teenager selectively. A sister taken, a younger brother, an only child. Many children were taken right from the playground and classrooms at school. The wolves would grab the children by the clothing, allowing them to dangle beneath the fangs and neck of the wolf. The wolves spread across the town in a wave, gathering children and disappearing back to the center of town. The children cried and tried punching the wolves that held them, unable to break free. The wolves gathered around the crater where the man had returned to. He rose up into the air, the leather trench-coat flowing around him, arms spread to his side in some sort of pose straight from religious tomes. The wolves stood, around, snarling and glaring around the town center. One wolf, who returned empty handed, began to scarf down the cultist who still laid in the town square, which was now haloed in blood. The blood dripped from the wolf's mouth in long strands of viscous lifeforce. The wolf glowed with a red aura after devouring the flesh of the beast. With a rotation of the man's wrists, the wolves disappeared, along with the children they were holding. They all melted away, however, above the man's head, was a large gray orb, where the children reformed. They pounced against the orb's wall, attempting to escape. They were helpless. Young children cried, their faces growing red and puffy with fear. Some curled into ball on the floor and just wept, spacing out, gripping their heads or knees. They were at the mercy of this man, before the rest of the town, who had gathered in chasing their son or daughter who was taken, or simply to see what was going on.
"I am Úlfur af Osýnilegri, Wolf of the Nebulous. These children have been chosen to bring forth the demise of the guilty. They will all contribute to the cause, and they are helpless to escape it. They will be reborn..."
The man then closed his fists, causing the orb to lurch closed, smaller and smaller. The last sight of inside the orb is an explosion of blood and flesh with screams coming from the last alive inside. The orb, being about the size of an apple, floated downward infront of the man, who morphed into his beast for yet again. The orb floated for a minute before the wolf's jaws enclosed around it, causing a burst of blood to stain his fangs and drip from his mouth. Immediately, his whole form began to tighten and grow, glowing a blood red. As each muscle burst forth in growth, you could hear the heartbeat of the man pounding, almost as if it was causing earthquakes with each pump. There were sirens blaring from down the street, as the police were mobilized. The large wolf turned his head towards the cars, lurching around the corner and down the hill from the police station. With a howl, he disappeared, became a shadow, and slithered away along the ground to the outskirts of town.
The shadow slowed down, inside a very dark and dense hemlock and white pain forest in the western edge of the town. A small log house there was ransacked, until a map was found. Ulfur scanned the national map. His eyes seeing many glowing spots across the map. The agricultural parts of New York, The cities of Massachusetts, the beaches of Florida, in the souther states, high in the mountains of both the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains, the western beaches in California, the plains of the Midwest, the deserts of the west. They all possessed glowing dots in varying colors and hues. Each dot also had a flurrying symbol inside the dot. A bear, tiger, lizard, snake, lion and many more. A large black dot with a dark red wolf symbol, the largest of them all, was fixed in the southern half of "New Hampshire" just as the cultist said. This dot represents me, because I am the one who invaded this town. I am the one who took all thos children, and I am the one who possesses the power of the Nebulous Wolf.
The next largest spot on the map is in the south a spot with a green bird symbol. Here is where I will find the one who holds the power of the Nebulous Eagle, in a state called Alabama. This is my next target and the site of my next raid.