Massachusetts, 1857
I, Archibald Cedric Abner, duly appointed U.S. Marshal, stalked the forest armed with my Colt Dragoon. This winter of '57 was truly the work of the Devil as the bastard brought abysmal snow from the third layer of Dante's icy hell.
The six men, along with the savage Red Skin who acted as our guide, agreed with me in this God-forsaken wood. The only one who seemed unaffected by the horrendous cold was Miss Hood, who owned the lands we scouted. I found her quite the perplexing lady, insisting on coming along with us as we did men's work. I couldn't protest much as she paid in full, her family and breeding in good standing, supposedly the sole heiress of the Hood family estates and fortunes.
"Really, Madam Hood, this is no place for a lady. I and the posse can hunt this beast for you. Please retreat to the safety of your manor," I said, each breath creating a billowing cloud of mist. At least this morning, no more fresh snow carpeted the forest and the wind lay still as the graveyard we passed earlier.
"No, I will see to it that my money is well-spent. Those Pinkerton fools came and never emerged from the woods, more than likely exited out to the villages on the far side, spending the funds I paid on whiskey, cards, and harlots."
I gasped. "Such language, madam!"
"It is far too cold to stand on proper manners, don't you think, Marshal Abner?" she asked. I noticed the men continuing to offer glances in our direction, some of them wiping their mouths. I've seen hungry looks like those before when we hunted the heathen Indians in the Territories. The men needed to satisfy their baser nature and it didn't matter what color of skin that form took… I shook my head. As the Lord Jesus is my witness, no harm shall befall the young lady.
Annoyance flashed in my senses at the lack of control these fools displayed. "May I be so bold to ask you a personal question, Madam Hood?"
"You may call me Red."
I felt a warmness in my cheeks. "Oh, no, I couldn't."
She threw her black cowl back exposing crimson hair that flowed down her chest, her hands long and sharp. "What is your question then?"
"How is it you haven't married yet? Such a beautiful creation such as you..."
She chuckled. "Are you presenting yourself as a gentlemen caller, Mister Abner, or should I still address you as Marshal?"
Her question caught me off-guard. I was too forward. I've thrown myself into my vocation since it's been years, but… I purged the thought from my mind.
"My apologies. I shouldn't have asked." Why did I ask that? I've met ravishing ladies before and I've never taken such liberties.
Her hand reached out and touched my arm. "I don't mind. May I ask you a personal question then?"
"Of course, anything."
"Is there a Mrs. Abner?"
My face fell, the sole sound being the crunch of our boots as we trod across the snow and ice. "There was."
She gasped, her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I am terribly sorry. Forgive my intrusion."
I gestured for calm. "No offense taken. I am heartened that my Bertha and son have been with the Lord for the past six years."
"How did…"
"Trying to bring my boy into the world."
She nodded. "And all this time, you haven't…"
"No, I haven't resettled. Sometimes, God destines a man to a calling that isn't behind a pulpit or to propagate His chosen species."
"Chosen species, sir?" she asked, her head slightly tilted.
"It is only natural that God has chosen the White man as His beloved children to carry out His will, our great land manifested to bring light to the world. But such talk isn't suited for a lady. It's—"
"No, I am quite familiar with the superiority of a species and the pacification of wild untamed land. I agree with you that there is a universal truth to the proper hierarchy of organisms. It was my grandfather's business, given to my father, and then now mine."
She glanced up, breathing in the air deeply while closing her eyes. "Oh, how I love the forests. I will be so glad when this land is restored to its once pristine beauty."
"My dear, madam, it's man's purpose to pacify the land and to turn it into what God has deemed fit. Timber should be lumbered and the soil made to yield the harvests to feed the good folk. Forests such as these represent wilderness—land untamed. We are in a new age of growth, prosperity, and the strengthening of America's right to dominance on the world stage."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Such a grand view on life. I thought it would be man's purpose to plow the fields of soil and woman."
I nearly dropped my pistol as I couldn't contain my shock. "If you were any other young lady, I would have thrown you over my knee and given you my belt!"
"Now that indeed would be something you would enjoy, particularly in the privacy of a bedroom, don't you think?" She smiled, almost leering as her gaze lowered itself to my loins.
I grimaced, recovering my resolve. "Madam Hood—"
"Don't 'Madam Hood' me, sir. I am only speaking plainly. I cannot suffer fools as I skip the formalities."
"This is not the time nor place, madam."
She turned her head, her face contorted in disgust.
"And what of the creatures within my forests who call this land their home?" she asked, her tone light, and obviously reeling from defeat. She does need a good man to set some limits.
I humored her, allowing her to save face. "God had granted them for us to hunt and eat. I've taken up big game hunting myself at times. Truly a blessed sport."
"Indeed," she said, her word a bit curt. "My father was a great hunter."
"I'm sure he has told you many tales of his exploits."
"I've hunted too."
I laughed. A lady that hunts! That was the best jest I've heard all day. When I noticed she did not laugh with me, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I'm sure my cheeks turned rose. I offered a small nod. "Forgive my ill-manners."
She beamed an ivory smile instead. "How about you join me for an afternoon tea? It's been a while since I have entertained callers. From there, we could talk about...our hunts."
Good Lord, this woman possessed Elijah the Prophet's boldness! "I couldn't. I did not bring appropriate attire. I—"
She laughed, her mirth like honey. "Don't worry about it. I have suits at the manor if you're so insistent on protocol."
"I suppose—"
The primitive, Wild Deer, along with another man, Wyatt Tyler, ran across the snow toward us. In broken English unbefitting of the Indian, he said, "Wolf sign. We found the den!"
"Mr. Tyler, I made my instructions quite clear that the savage doesn't speak to me directly nor is to use our language."
Wyatt tipped his hat toward me. "Apologies. Wild Deer forgets his place, sir. However, he's right. We found the den and it's a big one. We also found this."
He held up a gnarled tin badge with dried brown stains.
"It's our beast," he said. He tipped his hat to Miss Hood and with a wink and smile, he said, "Ma'am."
"Scandalous! Don't do that again, Mr. Tyler!"
"But I was—"
"Enough. You and the heathen take two men. The savage leads! The rest of us will follow up on the rear. Get those torches lit. We smoke them out and gun down those that make a run for it. I want the largest wolf head ready for my mantle by nightfall!"
They departed, silently waving two more men to follow.
"My apologies for Mr. Tyler's manners. He's lived among the primitives far too long that he's forgotten his proper breeding. After we are done, I will see to it that he—"
She lifted a hand, silencing me. "That is quite alright. It far too common for men of Mr. Tyler's ilk to behave in such a manner. He hasn't lived in New England in quite some time, is that correct?"
"Yes, yet there is something about this wood that is changing the men somehow. I have noticed all of them acting rather improper. More...bestial."
She stroked a thin birch, caressing it as if it was a pet dog. "These woods are ancient and sacred. It is small wonder that the wolves have returned, turning their attention on those who dare try to tame the forest to their own desires. Men like Mr. Tyler are more attuned to their...ahh...nature when they are under the cover of these trees."
"All the more to be wary then." I turned to the woman. "Miss Hood, I beg of you. This is no place for a lady. I inquired about the previous hunters you hired. The Pinkertons sent word to me by telegraph that none of their men made it out of the wood. As far as I'm concerned, they met their Maker here and that badge is proof. I have seen other bodies the so-called Big Bad Wolf has left behind. He—"
"Only the parts the beast did not eat."
"Madam!"
"Mister Abner, the trade of flesh of the African people was my grandfather's business before my family moved north. I fear not the spoor wolves create." She eyed the other pistol at my belt and held out her hand. "Your weapon, sir. I did not come armed, and we approach the den."
"I don't think you—"
"I can fire it! Now, hand it to me."
I obeyed, pulling the heavy long-iron from the hard leather holster, offering it to her handle first. With a simple flick, she popped the cylinder, spun it, and jerked it back into place, the metal clinking.
"An excellent weapon. Thank you." She moved away from me, her long coat dragging across the snow, leaving me speechless.
I raced to stay ahead of her, protect her if need be. Something told me I should have brought more men.
Gunfire rang out, men shouting curses as they approached the mouth of a cave, but received more than they bargained for as not one beast emerged, but many!
Black wolves erupted out their den like locusts, roaring and frothing at the mouths. Wild Deer threw an ax at one, spinning in the air as it thumped hard and deep into one of the wolve's skulls. The large brute fell, sliding in the snow.
Unfortunately for the Indian, three more took its place, and they were upon him before he could draw his long knife. Long fangs severed his head from his neck, blood spraying wildly upon the snow, his body falling to many jaws as they pulled flesh and clothing apart.
Men fired, some of the beasts fell, others unfazed by wounds that could put any monster down. I spared a glance at the first wolf Wild Deer killed and watched to my horror, the ax plop away from the lupine's skull, the wound healing.
"Run, Miss Hood! These are no ordinary wolves!" I cried as I turned to face her.
My blood froze.
Her gaze held me, her eyes now yellow like these unfathomable monsters. She smiled, long canines bared at me as she held my weapon in clear view, bullets raining down onto the ground. She tossed the emptied weapon aside.
Gunfire ceased, the posse around me torn to pieces, but none of the blood-drenched wolves dared move in, as if they deferred to her. "You're the Big Bad Wolf," I said, my voice unable to contain my shock.
She offered a slight nod. "My grandfather was the original, killed by my father when the Trial of Ascension took place. Since I have fought and killed him for the position of Alpha a decade ago, I now lead the pack." She gestured to the wolves. "These wonderful creatures before you are my children, from my own womb."
"Why?" I asked.
"Ah! It's the answer to an age-old question, my good fellow. Survival of the superior species. Humans are only good for one thing—to provide their seed or loins to give birth to my kind—wolves. Now, to our business. Remove your pants for I am in season. Obey me, and I will make your death quick and painless. If you grant me true carnal satisfaction, I may let you live a little longer." She threw off her thick coat, revealing her nude body from within, wearing only boots.
"Come to me. Let your last sight on this earth be one of pleasure," she purred.
I screamed as I lifted my weapon and fired, a solid hit in her shoulder. She jerked back a step, but glared, unfazed. I fired again, this time striking the heart. The shot forced her to rear her head up, a spittle of blood exploding from her mouth. I didn't hesitate, I leveled off my remaining shots into her chest until my pistol uttered empty click sounds.
She smiled through blood-stained fangs.
"Silver was what you needed. Lead only enrages me. Forget the mating. I shall slake my hunger instead!"
Her body changed, boots ripping away, a violent ruby fur erupting from her once-beautiful porcelain skin, her eyes now blazing like the sun. Half woman, half wolf, she grew in size, muscle, and terror.
The wolves howled in unison as if they sang their haunting songs to their mother.
Miss Hood laughed as she stomped toward me, casting me in her looming shadow.
At least...I can be assured I will be with my beloved and son soon…