Bark at the Moon Chapter Four: Scarred Mind
Everything was dark, but Alucard could see. In the werewolf's eyes, he could see a thin membrane encasing him. A thin tube came from his navel to the outside, where amniotic fluid ran to supply him with life. There were other embryos there, too. Alucard realized he was in a womb. An ethereal calm permeated this most sacred place. There was shifting among the other fetuses, bunched close together. The werewolf feebly kicked out with undeveloped paws, fighting for room. Another fetus felt the blow, a bruise forming on it's delicate head. It would have whimpered if it could have, but the only reaction was a pathetic wiggle; the blow had damaged the cub's brain. The mushed synapses could not communicate the proper feeling to the unfortunate cub, resulting in more struggling. Alucard saw through the werewolf's blind eyes another vicious kick. This one stopped the disabled one's moving abruptly, and there was stillness. With some measure of sadness, Alucard realized that the werewolf who's memories he was piecing through had murdered another of it's litter, in the supposed safety of their mother. Even as an unborn fetus, his instincts had come forth.
Seras saw movement. She too, realized she was in a womb, but not for much longer. She felt a coolness, he was feeling air for the first time. But he was stuck. He had been too eager to leave. His struggles caused cries of pain of pain somewhere above him. Seras knew he was hurting his mother, but his senses were clogged with amniotic fluid, deafening him to his mother's torment.She heard animal cries around her, and knew the moon must be full. The rest of the litter was pushing from below, adding to his mother's pain. He kicked viciously with his paws, digging into the cubs below him. Something vital was pierced by one paw, the other hit and the pushing was stopped. Flailing, he clawed out of the womb, and into open hands. The first thing she felt was the cold of the night, the second was the lungs that were still filled with liquid. The hands holding the firstborn must have realized this, and Seras felt his back being patted. He coughed fiercely, expelling what he could. He was lifted into the air. His little head shook, and his eyes opened. The first thing the firstborn saw was the full moon. It filled his eyes, the catalyst of his lycanthropy, passed on from litter to litter. The second thing she saw was another werewolf, fully transformed. His yellow eyes were filled with joy, and from the way it affectionately nuzzled the firstborn, Seras guessed it was his father. They turned to see the rest of his litter emerge. The next one to come was dead, it's delicate skull caved in. The next had a cut across it's left flank, but it was closing up slowly. The five came out intact. Another one came out dead, it's undeveloped skull bruised and tiny throat coat. The last one was the runt of the litter, too weak to push itself out. The mother passed out from the pain momentarily, the stress of giving birth too great to bear. Coming around again, she helped nurse the newborns.
Alucard looked around. It was noon, and cubs around him were excited about their first hunting lesson. An old, wizened man approached the group. The cubs put up a playful racket at the sight of him. The man raised a hand to settle the cubs. They sat, tails wagging furiously. Alucard noticed he was the largest of the litters present. Alucard also recognized the runt of his litter, who stuck close to him.
"Now, young cubs, it is time for you to learn one of the most important lessons of our kind,"the elder said,"the hunt."
Again, the giddy cubs yelped with excitement. The firstborn in particular seemed eager for blood. The runt just shivered. The old man held his hand up for silence again.
"May the firstborns step forward, please,"the elder said. Four cubs stepped forward, including Alucard's. The elder surveyed each of them in turn, stating their names.
"Loki,"the elder said, turning to a lean and wiry wolf, built for running.
"Artemis," a pensive cub, adept at stalking.
"Argus," a large cub, built for the kill.
"And Remus," the elder finished.
So it has a name, Alucard thought. Remus was undoubtedly the biggest cub at the gathering.
"Now firstborns, hear me well; you are to take your brothers and sisters and hunt down a deer. Your parents shall guide you for your first time. Learn from them, young ones, learn to provide your pack with meat."
The litters separated, to find their first meal to catch. Remus lost sight and interest of the other litters, eager for his Wolfmother to teach him the ways of the hunt. And so Alucard learned how the werewolf hunted , how deer smelled, how to find them, and how to kill them. Remus kept the runt of the litter on the column of his neck, where she could track. Her name, Alucard learned was Guinevere. She caught scent of a deer. Alucard could feel the firstborn's excitement, and he began to rush ahead of his litter, at a speed most cubs didn't posess. He barely heard Guinevere's instructions, but he followed them until he caught the dear's scent, too. He sped up, and soon the deer came into his sight. It was a fawn that got separated from it's parents. He plunged upon it without the slightest bit of hesitation. He bit into the throat, and his claws slashed the belly. His mother found him gnawing at a freshly killed deer, along with the rest of his litter. His mother sent up a call. Werewolves appeared, including his father. They watched the rest of the cubs move toward the deer. But since it was Remus's kill, his father insisted he get the first cut. Remus bit a chunk from the shoulder for him and his sister, for the rest of the cubs were unlikely to share with the runt. The other werewolves were impressed, Remus had taken down a deer by himself, and so quickly. Alucard recognized the signs of a born killer.
Seras smelled something new, and Remus was curious. It was late afternoon, and he followed the new scent. The rest of his pack hadn't caught the scent yet. He had slipped away from his parents, who were more comfortable with letting him roam the woods now. He was surprised they hadn't caught the scent yet, it was plain enough to him. He saw the source of the smell. It was someone hiding in a bush. He was bent over something foreign to Remus. He recognized the look of the person, walked on two feet, the pack sometimes did when they needed to communicate something that a wolf's tongue could not. Or when the moon was full. He padded up to the man-figure silently, thinking it was another werewolf. But Seras could recognize the object held in the human's hands. A rifle. Seras could feel that this memory was more distinct, more tangible then the others. Remus was even larger now, and to the hunter, a nice big target walking toward him was an oppurtunity he couldn't pass up. So the man pulled back the bolt on his rifle and fired. The round sunk into the young werewolf's mane, just above the collarbone. The noise was loud and startling, but the bullet hurt more then the noise did. His still developing body was mildly injured, but the damage was done. The shot brought a werewolf running. It was Guinevere, in winter clothes that concealed much of her features. The rest of the pack had moved deeper into the forest once they caught the human's scent, but Guinevere had seen Remus run off in the direction the scent was coming from. She was still very young, but she had enough wisdom to know that if the pack had deserted, maybe he should, too.
The hunter prepared to fire another shot, but Guinevere was in his way. She bent down to Remus, speaking soft words to him. Seras was touched, the cub really cared for her terrible big brother. Guinevere saw the blood staining his brown fur, she could smell it too. She saw the bullet embedded in his neck, it hadn't gone in all the way, the end was sticking out. It had splintered upon entering him, so she pulled the biggest chunks out she could. This seemed to relieve Remus, who was suddenly mad. He bolted up, and advanced on the hunter, snarling. He changed into his human form, the pain burning him into awareness. He walked up to the confused hunter and pulled the scarf around his mouth down to his neck. He appeared to be no older than eight, but he was tall. He wrenched the gun from the hunter's limp hands.
Remus had a heart full of murder for this man who had fired upon him. He could smell something on the man, something he smelled in the deer as they were dragged to the ground by the predator. He was too young to recognize the scent of fear. But both deer and the man smelled of it, and though the hunter had more in common with Remus than the deer, the werewolf made some unseen connection between the two, and decided that they were both prey. So, using the firearm as a club, he did what he always did to his prey.
Alucard saw the werewolf sat around a fire. The elder wolf he recognized from the first hunt memory was on his knees. He had old leathery skin, ancient robes and shoulder length silvery white hair. A ten year old Remus sat around the fire, paying rapt attention to the elder.
"It is time, young cubs,"the elder said in spectral tones,"for you to learn the tale of the fall of our race."
Alucard licked his lips. Now this would interest him.
"As you all know, we were once a proud race once, we did what we pleased. We could do anything we could get away with, no fear of retribution. Humans would not go into the forests alone. But it was not to last."
The elder's voice grew solemn.
"We, in our arrogance, believed that man would never find a way to destroy us. But it so happens, that they did. A foolish young werewolf decided to ransack a church. At that church rest a sword forged of silver, blessed by the Pope himself. The priest there was praying, and the werewolf foolishly barked at him. Turning around to see the werewolf leaping toward him, the priest seized the sword, and pointed it straight at the werewolf's heart. In his arrogance, the werewolf did not even suspect a threat. The holy blade pierced his heart, and the young one howled his death rattle. The cry brought villagers to the church, who saw the werewolf, impaled on that accursed sword."
The cubs shuddered and the elder continued.
"The youth's companions had witnessed his demise, and sought to warn others of their kind. But their warnings went unheeded. Knowledge of the werewolf's defeat spread, and man grew bold. Too late we realized man had organized themselves. They burned the forests to draw us out, and then knights massacred us with silver blades and burned our bodies."
The elder's tone dropped even lower.
"And where humans dared not go, darker creatures did. Monsters of the night, vampires. They fed on the blood of others, and could not stand the sunlight. The only way to kill them was a wooden stake through the heart, or to pierce their heart with silver. For reasons unknown to us, they sided with the humans, if indirectly. They too, sought to see us wiped from their sight. We retreated deep into the forests, and high upon mountain tops. Secret places, to which none could follow. We left only a few of our brethren behind, to watch for humans and deter them. Many of the rearguard was slain, others disappeared, leading trackers and vampires stumped as to their hiding places. In time, we faded into myth and legend, eventually becoming nothing but myth and legend. But we live still, quietly, in the forests and woods of old. Many the humans have chopped down for fuel and timber, and our hiding places dwindle. And many of us slain in the old hunts were not killed properly, the tools of disposal not the high quality of silver and blessing only destroying the body, and some of their consciouses still walk the land as unrestful spirits."
The elder's tone normalled, the great tragedy finished.
"And that, young ones, is why we must stay secluded from the world of man, away from their destructive tendencies."
Alucard smiled. Ah yes, those had been fun times for him…
Seras smelled fresh blood beneath her. Remus had made another kill, together with his sister Guinevere, who's senses had become exceedingly sharper as she grew. She was still obviously the runt of the litter, though. Remus however, was as big and strong as Guinevere was small and frail. And his senses hadn't improved much either. But sheer physical prowess made him among his pack's best hunters. Something that made the other cubs jealous.
The two siblings passed through a clearing where the others were tussling. Remus's human form clutched a deer body, the intestines removed by Guinevere's stunted claws. She had made her first kill, and she thought their parents should know. She had ejected herself from her perch on the nape of Remus's neck to the deer, her claws tearing a gash in the belly.
The cubs stopped their fighting when when the duo moved into the clearing. The sound of vegetation crackling underfoot halted, casting the clearing into silence. Remus swiveled his head to face his fellows. Argus stared straight back at him. Half his litter moved to his side,the other young ones moved back. Argus clearly had an advantage in numbers. Very few moved to support Remus, they had grown to fear him as much as Argus had grown to hate him. He'd surpassed them physically, and Argus, who's family prided themselves on being fighters, was angered to take second place to Remus. He also resented Guinevere, who was the weakest among them, yet she was always protected by her bigger brother. She had developed senses that were as sharp as Remus was strong. Coincidentally, Remus' senses were weak for a werewolf.
Guinevere knew more about Remus than the rest of the pack did. She was smart, and she could piece together his psyche. Perhaps it was a sixth sense, or that she spent so much time near his head tracking for him. And Seras could tell, from both the way Guinevere tugged on Remus' coat, and from the tone of the memory, it would end badly.
Pushing his sister back a foot. He put down the fresh killed deer, he would have to wait to eat lunch. With a larynx wrenching grunt, he transformed into a wolf. Guinevere silently moved off, to find an adult werewolf.
"You've protected that runt for far too long, Remus," Argus said. He motioned to his friends to go stop Guinevere. He turned back to face Remus, who growled at seeing the others move to pin her. Argus underwent the transformation to wolf, and faced Remus. He had grey fur, and was smaller than Remus, and slower. And weaker.
They charged toward each other, and connected in a flurry of kicking and biting. Argus went down to the ground first, being smaller than the other after all. Frantically Argus kicked and swiped at Remus' midsection. It went deep, and Remus released him. Argus got his bearings quickly, and reared back and lunged. Remus reared up and knocked him down. Pressing his advantage, he fell on Argus. He bit down hard on the neck, and felt the spine crack audibly.
Argus whimpered, and kicked with his paws. It landed some minor scratches, but Remus didn't let up. Fortunately for the weaker one, some of the teenage werewolves had heard the cries of pain and growling, and came running. They saw Remus eating Argus' neck.
They transformed into wolfmen and forcefully removed a snarling Remus from Argus. One changed into a wolf and ran to find an adult. One saw the dead deer and the young ones holding down Guinevere. Realizing they were caught, they hastily straightened up. The elder was the first to arrive, and saw Remus being restrained by two older werewolves. And despite, that, they were having a hard time holding him, he bucked fiercely. The elder saw the blood dripping from his jaws, and Argus and the ground, recovering from a damaged spine. Remus saw only Argus, and that he was still breathing. Neither wolf was a month over eleven years old.
The elder shook his head sadly, such violent rivalry at so young an age.
Remus didn't care about the consequences, only that he'd hurt that son of a bitch again and again and again…
The moon was up, that was the first thing Seras saw. Remus was staring expectantly at it, waiting for the last cloud to move. It did, and the glorious full moon loomed above. Change overwhelmed him, the thiirteen year-old grew fur every where, his face grew long and even more canine. His ears pointed and widened, teeth sharpened and lengthened. In a minute, Remus stood, fully transformed, physically and psychologically. All his best and worse flaws came. His psychotic urges to kill and eat, his cruelty, his sadism, it all came out. None of the pack would have made a suitable mate for him, so he stayed alone. Guinevere had found comfort with Loki, so he was hunting solo.
He dashed out into the woods, his senses were at least as good as the others when the moon was full, so he could do things independently. The first thing he found, unfortunatley happened to be Argus. The results were predictable.
Argus smelled Remus before he could reach him however, and was with a group of close friends. As soon as they caught his scent and heard him crashing through the undergrowth, they spread out in front Argus. They didn't expect him to jump clear over them to get to Argus. Argus slashed with claws at Remus and rolled to the side. The other werewolves turned and rammed Remus. He grabbed one unfortunate wrewolf and used him to bludgeon the others away, breaking his weapon's arm in the process. Throwing the howling werewolf at his fellows before charging back at them. He went down under five werewolves, swamping him with weight alone.
All of a sudden, Remus' body began jerking around in unnatural patterns, even for a transformation. His sight slid in and out of focus, and every time it did, he saw different images. Ones that he could never have seen. Werewolves with silver piercing their hearts, their flesh burning, agony enflaming the very fiber of their beings. His brethren's bodies burning. A dark winged figure caught in the moonlight. Thoughts spiralled in and out of his consciousness, whispers, howls, snarls, screams, all grasping for control. They were completely alien to him. One powerful, savage psyche grabbed ahold of him. Urging him to kill.
To Be Continued...
Okay, that's Chapter 4, with a decidedly darker tone. This one will be updated pretty soon, sorry for the long wait. And if you don't like it, please, don't brake my spirit...
Also, I may be changing Remus' (the werewolf) character slightly, let me know if you notice anything significant.