The Hunter's Bow
Author's note:
In this story (based largely around Alex and Mason) Alex, Justin and Max were the children of two wizards when on one fateful night their parents were killed by vicious werewolves.
20 years later they become part of WSF (Wizard Security Force) which seeks to destroy the monsters and other criminals of the wizard world. They are ruthless, deadly and very professional. But when their next case becomes very, very personal, they must separate their own feelings from the job at hand.
Apart from that the story is the same as the programme.
Enjoy! Warning – Violence, Light Cursing and minor descriptions of death. No gore however.
Prologue –
The large house stood aloof and alone on the grassy green hill. To the rear lay vast rolling vistas crawling with wildlife. The house itself was enormous and, when coupled with the size of the hall, dwarfed the surrounding landscape. The night had descended gently over the countryside and everyone was asleep. Soundless, serene, silent. Apart from the window breaking.
Jerry woke with a start. He surely couldn't have imagined it. There had definitely been a sharp noise. The wizard felt a disturbance in the force. Had a vase broken? Was one of the kids awake? Or was it something else? He looked over at Theresa. He was immediately roused when he realised she wasn't there. He leapt out of the bed and padded over toward the door, wand in hand. After he reached the stairs he saw his wife at the bottom. She was looking up at him and motioned him to join her. He crept down the staircase so as not to wake his two boys and girl. It became apparent, as he neared the ground floor of the house that the latter required no such caution.
His daughter, Alex, was sitting on the floor playing with her toy rocket ship. She was a pretty young thing, with mousy brown hair and a pale complexion. She looked pure. She looked as innocuous as a lily. But she also looked troubled.
The two parents warily walked toward their recumbent daughter who by now was aware of their presence. They had been through this situation before, and they both knew the protocol. They would give her calm reassurance before carrying her to bed. But not tonight. Distracted by their daughter's insomnia, they didn't notice the glass in the kitchen.
"Mommy, Daddy, I had the same dream again. The one with… them."
"Who?" Asked Jerry, carefully.
"The ones behind you."
"What?" asked Theresa, before the werewolves leapt.
Alex's eyes snapped open. She was in the middle of the living room, playing with a toy rocket. She'd had that nightmare about those things, and during her nightmare, had sleepwalked. She walked through the silent house. And then it wasn't silent. There was a low growling sound which made her curious. She opened the door to the kitchen, oblivious to shards of glass that tore rents in her feet. And then she screamed.
Mason Greyback had never wanted to come here. It felt odd to be attacking these blameless (as far as he was concerned) people and just killing them remorselessly. What had they done to him? His parents had finished their brutal work now. He didn't want to look at the bloody scene behind him. They'd brought him here to 'show the young pup the ropes' as they'd put it. Apparently his brothers is had all made their first kill on similar outings but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
He turned sharply as the door creaked open. A girl was standing there. Something so small and tiny would be easily subdued. This could be his chance! Too bad his parents had noticed her too. He leapt in front of her, growling in his laughably high-pitched bark, "Mine!"
His parents smirk and release their interests in the small morsel. She has already fallen to the floor and he pins the wizard child beneath two heavy paws. She's still screaming. The noise is deafening. He suddenly notices her face. It is startlingly angelic.
He barely hears his parents telling him to hurry it up. But how can he destroy something so rich and so purely good? It seemed sinful, just plain wrong. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this. He was a child of darkness itself and he relished danger and violence. At least that's what his parents told him. But he couldn't think like that. Unlike his father and two brothers, he was fully dimorphic and had a human side which (unlike his mother and sister) often overpowered the wolf.
And so he made four exaggerated swipes of his paws, missing with each one, the blood on his paws (from walking through the blood-soaked kitchen) flying off and painting the walls. The girl had stopped screaming and fortunately had drifted into unconsciousness. He threw his head back and let out a howl of triumph. He leant down and rubbed his snout in the pool of blood she had fallen in before he turned to his parents gore slicking his face.
His parents growled congratulations before leaping through the open window, into the night. He did the same before turning to look one last time at the paralysed, stricken girl.
All he could think about through the night and the subsequent ones was the last horrified expression he saw on her face.
