So, the time has finally arrived. The great battle between Vampire and Werewolf, the battle between two evils, the war to end all wars.
A stormy night. Thunder clapping over head. Lightning, lighting up the sky; like someone had just flipped on a light switch. Though no rain falls here ― the trees encircling us make it almost impossible for that― the cold wind accompanying the rain certainly blows through.
The atmosphere flowing around us is eerie; quite ironic really considering who all is fighting tonight.
I feel as if something terrible is going to happen tonight, as if the Grim Reaper has finally decided to make his presence known. I smile as I think this. My wife has always told me that I always draw on the negatives- now I see where she is coming from.
Something pulls at my pants. Taken off guard, I jump slightly only to realise that it was my daughter. She's scared, and with good reason. The werewolves have finally arrived.
No one speaks.
The werewolves move forward toward the centre. Twice the size of a normal wolf and ― according to my daughter― three times as scary.
Adrenalin flows.
Small movements made.
Everyone just waiting on the knife to drop.
Out of the corner of my eye, a leave falls. The gate― being closed― falls apart. The fight begins.
***
Sunrise. The storm has well past, and while the nearby village sleeps ― unaware of the fight that was held in the meadow just north of the town― our battle continues.
Outcome thus far… Vampires winning.
Many werewolves have already been snatched away by the Grim Reaper. Many sons, brothers, cousins, nephews, grandsons, husbands have all succumbed to the one in the black robe and scythe.
Snarls and hisses all around.
A high pitched scream echo's through the field.
Panic.
My head whips around. I see my daughter on the other side of the field asleep, hidden from view. Then where did the cry come from?
Confusion.
I look around again. My eyes scanning every part of the meadow and forest.
Shock.
My frozen heart― which hasn't given a heart beat in nearly 100 years― feels colder. The scene before me has my full attention.
Anger.
A rust-coloured werewolf has my wife by the throat, dragging her across the field like she were some kind of toy.
Hatred.
I run forward toward the rust-coloured wolf. A sound, like metal being snapped in half, fills my ears.
Panic.
Confusion.
Shock.
Anger.
Hatred.
Worry.
I stop in my tracks. The rust-coloured wolf lifts its head. My wife's body falls to the ground.
Numb.
Inside the wolfs teeth- my wife's head.
I fall to my knees, staring right at the wolf who has just killed my wife.
Oh how I wish I could cry!
My eyes move to my wife's body on the ground- a decapitated corpse.
Nothing…
***
I'd never thought I'd have to go through the torment of loosing the one I love, the one I wanted to spend the rest of eternity with, the one that fought so hard to save the daughter that we both love.
A year on. I am still hunted by those memories of seeing her being taken away from me. I'm just glad that our daughter was asleep at the time.
Over the year I have come to learn that, although we might have won the war, there are no winners in war.