Your patience, dear reader, is about to be rewarded, for I am now able to tell you their story.

The morning passed uneventfully for the weary traveler, Maurice. The sun shone just as brightly as it always had done (except for around the castle on the mountain of course). The dew glistened on the grass skirting the well-worn dirt road. The hooves of the traveler's horse and the rotating wheels of his wagon created an almost musical rhythm. Yes, it was a very fine morning indeed.

Later on, as the setting sun turned the sky the color of fire, Maurice approached a crossroads. To the left was the same dirt road that the traveler had been following all morning. To the right was a less-used dirt path, leading to a forest with pines and oaks taller than any giant you would find in a storybook.

"I wonder…" he said to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If perhaps there might be a shortcut…" His eyes moved from side to side, eyeing each path before choosing to go to the right.

As the hours pass, the old man began to wonder if he had made a wise choice.

"Perhaps I should turn around and go left instead." He said to himself.

But then he thought better of it. "Nay, I've come this far already! I might as well go onward!"

But his apprehensions intensified as night crept over the land. The forest seemed to grow thicker with vegetation, the path becoming more and more vague, and the Maurice's lantern was quickly running out of oil.

Ordinarily, in such circumstances, the traveler would have used the light of the moon to guide his way, as any sensible traveler would when lost. But this ordinary sky had turned very unordinary indeed, for thick, charcoal clouds had veiled the moon.

"Ah, no matter. I'll find a clearing and rest for the night, then continue on my way."

In his search of a decent place to set up camp for the night, he heard a distant howling in the wind, and his apprehension increased tenfold.

"Oh dear…I don't believe that's a mating call…" he said, half to himself and half to his horse. Oh, I knew I should have gone left…but now I have no choice. I must go forward."

He went on a little further, focusing intently on the ever-fading path before him.

The snap of a twig broke his concentration, and sent his horse into a mad panic.

Maurice felt himself being flung backward as his beast-of-burden stood on its two hind legs, raising its front legs in front of its face as if to protect him. The horse whinnied in agony as he made a mad dash into the forest, leaving his owner and the wagon he had been pulling behind.

The traveler began to panic as he heard the howling growing louder and louder. He too, began a mad dash in no direction in particular.

His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing became ragged; sweat breaking out on his brow.

"Surely this can't be the end!" He thought to himself. His thoughts focused on only one thing: escape.

His concentration on his sprinting was broken when he crashed into something…cold…and metallic…

He found himself face to face with the tallest and most ornate iron gate he had ever seen. Not even the wealthiest merchants in the village had a gate this intricate.

The wolves were quickly approaching. Before he even had time to think about it, he opened the gates, ran through them, and shut them behind him.

He didn't even notice that the scarf Isabella had knit for him was missing.

Maurice now had no choice but to cross the stone bridge that lay before him. He didn't run, but rather walked briskly (as a man his age can only go so fast) across the bridge until he was halfway there, when he felt that he was at a safe distance away from the gnashing jaws of the wolves.

"Where am I?" he thought to himself. He looked up and found himself face to face with a tall, looming castle…and a smattering of charcoal clouds over his head.

As the man surveyed his surroundings, it began to rain. He ran quickly for the tall mahogany doors as the rain rapidly intensified.

He banged on the heavy doors.

"Please! I am but a weary traveler and need shelter for the night!"

He banged a few more times. The man was now soaked to the bone.

"Perhaps it's abandoned…who would live in such a frightening place?"

Oh, he had no idea.

He decided to escape the downpour by pulling with all his might on the iron rings that served as doorknobs. He then found himself in the faded glory of what he was sure was a once-magnificent gallery. Before him lay a huge marble staircase, which was covered in a dusty crimson rug. Several paintings adorned the walls, each one a portrait of someone who was clearly important. An enormous, dusty gold chandelier hung above his head, which badly needed cleaning and had clearly not been lit in years.

Maurice gently pushed the door closed behind him, careful not to make any noise. He then slowly walked further into the gallery, admiring its phantom beauty.

"Ah! A stranger!"

"Who said that? Who goes there?" he called, looking around to see where the voice had come from.

"That does not matter good sir. What does matter is that you leave this place immediately before the master finds out."

Another voice.

"There's more than one of you?"

A third voice uttered, "There are many of us."

"Who goes there? Where are you? Why do you not show me your faces?"

"I'm afraid that is not possible," said a fourth voice.

"And why is that?" Maurice asked.

A fifth voice called "That does not matter. What does matter is that you leave this place before the master finds you."

"Who is this master you speak of? Can't he hear you whisper?"

"Yes…and no…" said the first voice.

"Well, which is it? It can only be one or the other…"

"It is very difficult to explain…you must leave good sir, for your own sake, leave and never return!" said a sixth voice.

"No, I want an explanation!"

"The master cannot always hear us, but he can always sense our presence." said the third voice.

"What do y-"

"WHO DARES DISTURB MY DOMAIN!" shouted a new…almost inhuman, voice.

"We warned you good sir. We wish we could help you but I'm afraid that now we cannot" called the second voice.

Maurice's body began to quiver in fear as he backed against the wall. "Please good sir! I am but a weary traveler and am seeking shelter until the storm passes…"

"YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE!", the voice roared again.

"My most sincere apologies, sir! I had no knowledge that this castle was occupied! Please, I implore y-"

Maurice froze where he stood at the sight before him. While the thunder rolled in the windows between the two side stairways on the grand staircase, he saw the dark outline of a…he didn't know what to call it. As the creature approached him, his face turned a ghastly shade of white, his mouth unable to summon speech, his lungs barely able to gather oxygen.

Maurice was sure that he was staring face to face with Lucifer himself. In a flash of lightning he saw a creature unlike anything he was sure the world had ever seen. While this creature had a wolf-like body, he walked like a man. Black, matted hair covered every inch of his body, a thick, midnight-colored mane sprouted out of his head. Lupine paws were where feet should have been. His tattered shirt was unable to hide his broad chest, his cape unable to conceal his wide shoulders. His hands were calloused and dark, claws in the place of fingers. His broad shoulders supported a thick, hairy neck and a grotesque face. A hideous, wrinkled, black, wet snout was where a nose should have been. His teeth were pointed, with an under bite. Is ears were pointed, like a wolf's. The only truly human feature he had were his sapphire eyes, which were burning with anger.

"S-s-s-ir! Puh-puh-puh-please! I b-b-beg you! I m-m-meant no h-harm!" Maurice stammered, desperately clinging to his sanity.

"NO! YOU HAVE INVADED MY HOME AND MUST SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!" the creature growled, clearly having none of it.

Maurice felt himself being dragged down a hallway into a dark stairway, leading to a dungeon that reeked of decay and death. When he saw in the candlelight what his captor's face looked like up close, his world went black, and he knew no more.