Cry of the Wolf-Slayer
Chapter 1
The moon shone bright through the trees. The wind raced along the heavy trenches of the wilderness, brushing the arching ferns and chilling almost every living creature to the bone.
However, there was one beast that the wind did not phase. It was a wolf, its eyes fixated on the unknown. It was crouched in a fearful stance near the stream, its tail hovering between its legs and its heart pulsing rapidly.
Anytime now, it thought, its breath billowing in the cold night. Surely I will not harm anyone this time….
A fierce shiver slithered down its spine in response. The wolf whimpered, knowing that will not be true—whether he was satisfied with it or not, someone will be injured this night, in this freezing and windy autumn night. Pain gripped the creature's heart as it remembered the faces of its deceased pack mates—the moments when the life left their frightened eyes….
Please, it pleaded to nothing, feeling weak in its useless prayer, I do not want to kill anyone tonight….Especially those of my own pack. Why must this curse be bestowed upon me, out of everyone? Why me…..?
One of its shoulder bones snapped. The wolf bared its teeth, trying to stifle its howls of panic as the rest of its body began retract. Stumbling into the shadows, it writhed. It forced itself to remain hidden as its paws began to grow bigger. Its claws shrunk and morphed into short nails, its paws extended and became hands. Its tail disappeared, and the wolf stood upright….
An earsplitting howl split the air, or rather, the cry of a human being….
The forest seemed to shake as the brute pelted madly through the trees. Its speed increased with each step, its gaze hardening as it moved closer to its destination. Racing into a deserted clearing, the now transformed wolf hurried to a spot near a pine tree. It weaved amongst the fallen nettles, delving deeper into the hole beneath the tree's trunk and showering the yellow grass with dead vegetation.
The creature finally stood up, holding a hunting rifle in its arms. After brushing dirt and grit off of the weapon, it ran its hands along the sides for a moment, enthralled with the detail. In that instance, the human felt as if it possessed total control. With such a contraption designed to kill in its hands, anything could happen….
Deciding to do a practice shot, the human played its observations of the weapon's use through its mind, also remembering the exercises that it did on other occasions. It aimed at the nearest tree, blasting a bullet into the trunk, the blow raging in its ears. Good thing that other rifles were stashed in the hole as well; it was beginning to wonder if the gun would run loose of bullets. Although the wolf within the human was howling in refusal, the human allowed bloodlust to conquer it, gathering its strength and departing from the clearing. Shooting one last glance behind it, the human turned, walking briskly into the forest beyond.
Before long, an agonized yelp echoed through the night.