The Last Lycan Lord

By Orocus

Forward

Curious how the mind of a killer works. Some do it for fun others revenge and others for a profesion. If you ever meet a killer you may see it in their eye-(though I hope you don't get close enough of course)-the hunger, hunger the anger, or perhaps the pride of a job well done. Even if they are going to be killed themselves. Though most brake down knowing its their turn, so in a huring they get right with God hoping for forgiveness for their sins and to go to heaven with a warm welcome. In my opinion, no chance in hell, or should I say better chance in hell. Though there are things that kill for mysterious reasons and when I say things I mean creature thought to be make believe but do live among us and we don't realize this. But we will, one day humans will see what an inferior race they really are and that they will eventually die out.

Prologue

Borzan was looking at the house from a hill in Mooresville, Indiana. As he looked at the house he knew his victim was home, the lights were on, little did poor Kendall Erveng know he was about to die a horrible death. Borzan hated the thought of killing a child but after seeing what Kendall was like to other kids he had a change of heart. In his clan if you were so disrespectful to others you would be flogged raw. But lycans were much stronger than humans so they wouldn't die.

This is why he was so spiteful towards the human race and the list he possest targeted humans so he was alright with it. But still, the slaying of cubs was not on his fun list.

He heard dog's bark at is presences as he ran fast but quietly through yards undetected. When he past the dogs they backed away and whimpered. He smirked at this, he was quite frightening by appearance. Six foot eight long tangled silver hair and glowing green eyes, he was wearing skin tight black leather pants and a long black leather trench coat with a worn look. Though his fierce look, under all that hair he was quite handsome that is what froze his female victims.

But just his appearance froze all of his victims, which gave him full advantage though didn't need it, that is when he would strike with one swift movement of his battle axe. He didn't approve of guns humans used they were for the weak in his opinion. In this particular kill it would be swift and clean -well enough anyway-he didn't want to frighten the child anymore than he could help. Part of him hoped the boy wouldn't be their, because if he wasn't then perhaps the gods have spared him.

As he creeped around the house he found the boys bedroom window and looked through and there he was asleep in his bed. He opened the window very slowly and climbed in he looked down at the boy he still had that silly grin on his face he had when him and his friends beat up that younger boy. Borzan stood there scowling at him thinking of how his family would greave for him. How those kids he picked on and harmed would celebrate at his death. Borzan smirked at this.

He raised his four foot long axe over his head. Making sure his aim was true. Then he heard foot steps out side his bedroom door. Quickly but quietly Borzan jumped out the two story window landed like a cat and ran to the other side of the house. As he listened with keen ears he heard Kendall's parents enter the room too check on him.

"The gods have spared you Master Kendall live well," said Borzan.

And he left into the shadows.

Chapter 1

Robert Yarber was exceptionally handsome, not movie star handsome, but handsome none the less. He was about six foot seven inches around two-fifty, with hazel alarmingly bright green eyes that when looked into made the person quite fidgety. He had silvery blond hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Though, despite his alarming features Robert was a very gentle and kind. He was previously married until his wife was murdered one day by some stranger in a parking garage under her office building at some insurance company down in south Indianapolis. The police told him that she was beheaded with a weapon they couldn't identify. Not a day goes by that Robert doesn't think of Alice. He has been trying to find her killer for fifteen years, and everyday he wonders what if he stopped her from going?

"I'll only be gone for two hours tops, Robby," said Alice, as she was getting dressed in her business lady suit, "then when I come home we can spend some alone time time together," she stretched those two words very sexy like.

"But its our anniversary today, can't you do it some other time," said Robert, "plus it sunday you can't work on a sunday, there's nobody to let you in."

"Nice try babe, but you know as well as I that I have my own key," she said slyly. At this she picked up her red leather hand bag, put it on her shoulder, walk over to the bed and kissed Robert good-bye saying, "I'll see you in two hours tops I promise," then she walked out of the room closed the bedroom door behind her leaving Robert sitting on the edge of their bed. He heard the front door shut, the car engine start and she was gone, neither of them knowing this would be the last time they would ever see each other.

Chapter 2

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

" What, what is it?" said Robert stupidly.

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

Robert realizing it was his work cell he squinted at the too bright light on the screen of the phone it said his partner Abigail's number.

" Hello?" he said, no answer, " Dammit," he must've hung up by accident. He dialing the number.

" Did you do that on purpose?" came Abigail's voice sounding very irritated.

" No," lied Robert "must've been you, what is it, has he killed again?"

Robert and Abigail have been working on a series of murders they have decided to name " Pelletier Killings" after the first man to be executed by the giattene, and there has been seven murders so far all of which have been committed in Indiana. One in Brownsburge, one in Lafayette, two in Gary, and three in Lebanon. All of whom they are positive to be by the same killer, all of which are in the same grotesque, by decapitation of the head with an unidentified sharp object. That is what made Robert so keen to catch this son of a bitch. For Robert believes that this maybe the man who killed his wife and took away half of his heart.

"No, but he has been sited," Abigail sounded almost as excited as he felt.

" Where was he sited?" asked Robert not able to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Camby, right out side of Mooresville, apparently he was running through yards and some dogs got sent of him and they started barking but right when he past they scampered away whining with their tails between their legs."

"Well did any owners of the dogs get site of him?" he persisted.

"No, but all of the owners were telling the craziest stories," she said sounding uneasy

"What," he said with some impatients but more eagerness, "what did they say?"

" They-they said he was running with inhuman speed," she said with slight hesitation, "that he was running so fast that all he was nothing but a blur when he past and that a huge gust of wind would sweep after him knocking over trees."

" Thats impossible," he was feeling quite uneasy himself, though he did not know why, yet for some odd reason something in his head awoke like a beast wanting out of a cage. Could he know this man? Why can't he figure this out? Reguardless of the reasoning he knew that he can't focus on his own mental instability. His attention snapped back to reality when Abby yeld his name in irritation.

" What?!" he said louder than anticipated.

" Weren't you listening?" said Abby angrily, "I said that a women had seen him on top of a hill seconds before he took off out of her kitchen window when getting a glass of water and she gave a description to our scetch artists and you should see this picture, he is one scary lookin' motherfucker, I'll fax you what our artists drewup."

" Sounds good," Robert replied, " how soon?"

" In a sec," she said. " hold on..."

From inside his office he heard his fax machine going. Heart still pounding like a base drum, he walked over into the hall and to his left was his office, as he approached the fax machine cell phone still clamped to his ear he picked up the paper and looked. Abby's right, he thought to himself, he is one scary lookin' motherfucker. A wild looking man with long straggly whitish-blond hair, with disturbingly bright almond shaped green eyes, a whiskery beard and mustache, and a very strong jaw. But, besides that he was relatively good looking.

" Meet me at one this afternoon in Camby on East Rockhille Court at house number 6113." she said.

" Got it," he replied and hung up still staring at the glaring photo of their killer. Why would he make himself so easily seen?

" Do you want me to find you?"

Chapter 3

Abigail hung up with a sigh, not a tired sigh, but a dreamy sigh. Get a hold of yourself Abby! she thought to herself. What are doing? You shouldn't be day dreaming about your partner like that! It was true Abby did have a slight crush on Robert. She considered him quite good looking and his eyes were positively enchanting.
She had been his partner for seven years and was close to Alice and that was another reason to not even bother trying anything. Though she didn't pay much attention to her looks she was exceptionally attractive her own self. With her long dark red hair, her sapphire eyes and her beautiful smile. Not only that she was slim with long legs and seemed to always where a ladies business suit, which suited her quite well. It was no wonder men kept staring at her ass ever time she walked by.
She was heading to the seen of where their perp was spotted ten seven years in the FBI teaches you to not always follow your gut instinct because all the seems to point where you want it to even if its wrong, and her gut was telling her this is where they were going to finally figure out this guys pattern, but she ignored it because if she did follow her gut a little to far it could cost the case and she would only see what she wanted to see. This is basic psycology, the mind plays even the dirtiest tricks on a person.
As she pulled into the suburb area avery direction you looked there was a house against a house. When she drove onto East Rockhille Crt. she could see a cute little park on her right with a big pond next to it, though she thought it looked pretty peaceful she knew everyone was thinking the same thing; " Who was it?".
There it was house number 6113. As she parked in front of the house on the curb she looked a it. It was a nice house green front lawn, long down hill drive way, with the garage attached to the house, on the left side of the garage was the front door and porch, it had some sort of a fence that half way between the concrete ground and the roof of the porch. Behind the fence and porch was a big window on the left of the door and on the right is a small window about a foot and a half wide and tall. About the roof of the porch on the left is another window roughly the same size but extending out. It also has a stair window above the small one that is much taller. All and all, a beautiful home.
There were four police cruisers siting in the drive way. As she got out of the car and walked her way up the drive way she noticed just how dark it really was out side, after all it was five thirty in the morning.

Chapter 4