Chapter Two– Black Wolf Without Pity
The bright yellow butterfly flitted just out of reach, and Carlie jumped, missing by a mere sliver. She stopped for a second, laughing, and jumped again, this time for a beautifully patterned blue butterfly. Her bug chase was hopeless, of course– it was all for the fun of it, now that the world had returned to normal.
Heath stood a ways behind her, near the castle gate, watching Carlie with a faint smile on his face. He was currently occupied with other thoughts though, as usual.
(Carlie . . . Charolette . . . . we shall kill you . . .)
Carlie froze at the chilling voice, but Heath seemed oblivious to it.
"Heath?" Carlie asked, turning to face him.
"Yes?" Heath said, absentmindedly staring beyond Carlie.
"Didja hear that?"
"Hear what . . . . Oh, Goddess . . . . Carlie, don't turn around. Get back to the castle."
Carlie turned around automatically, and screamed. A huge pitch-black wolf glowered down at her, then opened it's mouth in a hideous, blood-soaked grin.
"HEATH!!"
The demon-wolf lunged at her, howling madly.
"No!" Heath threw himself in front of Carlie. "Get back, daemon! I call upon the Goddess to disspell you!"
(Your Goddess is dead. She killed herself for you to live, but all in vain. Your blood will soak into the ground and mingle there . . .)
"I . . . I . . . Pure, Holy Light, source of all power, Goddess's gift, gather in my hands! Holy Ball!" Heath stumbled over the words, chanting as fast as he could. "Carlie, run!"
"I'm not gonna lose ya again!"
A stream of blinding light descended upon the wolf. It laughed, sounding like grating bones.
(That was the most pitiful display we ever have seen.) The wolf stalked closer, and blood dripped from it's mouth.
"Carlie, just get away from here!"
The wolf pounced, leaping into the air and landing directly in front of Heath, then lashing out with dirty claws and slashing Heath across the chest.
"Pure, Holy Light, source of all power, Goddess's gift, gather in my hands! Holy Ball!" Carlie chanted, drawing on her inner magic. Which was much more powerful than Heath's.
The wolf shrieked in pain as light showered onto it, and backed away from its torn and bloodied prey. (We shall kill you, Carlie! But now there are more important matters at hand. We shall come back, but our power shall be threefold! Your blood will feed the flowers!) The demon slowly melded with the shadows until it was completely gone.
Carlie started to cry. "Heath, Heath!"
"I'm . . . I'm fine, Carlie . . . ." Heath struggled to sit up, but failed, and lay on the ground, gasping in pain. Blood leaked from his wounds onto the grass below, and his silver hair was streaked with crimson.
"Heath, dun move, I'm gonna get help." Carlie decided, and ran into the gate. Heath smiled weakly.
"Please hurry . . ."
The bright yellow butterfly flitted just out of reach, and Carlie jumped, missing by a mere sliver. She stopped for a second, laughing, and jumped again, this time for a beautifully patterned blue butterfly. Her bug chase was hopeless, of course– it was all for the fun of it, now that the world had returned to normal.
Heath stood a ways behind her, near the castle gate, watching Carlie with a faint smile on his face. He was currently occupied with other thoughts though, as usual.
(Carlie . . . Charolette . . . . we shall kill you . . .)
Carlie froze at the chilling voice, but Heath seemed oblivious to it.
"Heath?" Carlie asked, turning to face him.
"Yes?" Heath said, absentmindedly staring beyond Carlie.
"Didja hear that?"
"Hear what . . . . Oh, Goddess . . . . Carlie, don't turn around. Get back to the castle."
Carlie turned around automatically, and screamed. A huge pitch-black wolf glowered down at her, then opened it's mouth in a hideous, blood-soaked grin.
"HEATH!!"
The demon-wolf lunged at her, howling madly.
"No!" Heath threw himself in front of Carlie. "Get back, daemon! I call upon the Goddess to disspell you!"
(Your Goddess is dead. She killed herself for you to live, but all in vain. Your blood will soak into the ground and mingle there . . .)
"I . . . I . . . Pure, Holy Light, source of all power, Goddess's gift, gather in my hands! Holy Ball!" Heath stumbled over the words, chanting as fast as he could. "Carlie, run!"
"I'm not gonna lose ya again!"
A stream of blinding light descended upon the wolf. It laughed, sounding like grating bones.
(That was the most pitiful display we ever have seen.) The wolf stalked closer, and blood dripped from it's mouth.
"Carlie, just get away from here!"
The wolf pounced, leaping into the air and landing directly in front of Heath, then lashing out with dirty claws and slashing Heath across the chest.
"Pure, Holy Light, source of all power, Goddess's gift, gather in my hands! Holy Ball!" Carlie chanted, drawing on her inner magic. Which was much more powerful than Heath's.
The wolf shrieked in pain as light showered onto it, and backed away from its torn and bloodied prey. (We shall kill you, Carlie! But now there are more important matters at hand. We shall come back, but our power shall be threefold! Your blood will feed the flowers!) The demon slowly melded with the shadows until it was completely gone.
Carlie started to cry. "Heath, Heath!"
"I'm . . . I'm fine, Carlie . . . ." Heath struggled to sit up, but failed, and lay on the ground, gasping in pain. Blood leaked from his wounds onto the grass below, and his silver hair was streaked with crimson.
"Heath, dun move, I'm gonna get help." Carlie decided, and ran into the gate. Heath smiled weakly.
"Please hurry . . ."
