Disclaimer: Origins story here. This chapter will flash back to Michael's life as a Werewolf before the current events. If you have been a little curious as to how he became one (or if he was born one...tee hee) or any other aspect of his or the Order's back ground then here is your wish. Enjoy!
Chapter Nine-"Master of Monster"
And now the pendulum stops swinging. The story will take a break from its current events. We will flash back, 300 years in the past to see how some of the players in this game came to be.
January, 1732. Eastern France. The Lycanthrope curse spread to the furthest corners of Europe. A savage virus that could strike anywhere and afflict any soul. The beasts went by many names. Lycanthropes, Lycans, The Wolf-Men, Hell Hounds, the Children of the Moon, Dog-Men. Driven by hunger and madness, those afflicted would turn into terrifying beasts under the full moon. The Werewolves had come, and their time did not seem to end. They killed mercilessly, sometimes slaughtering whole villages for the sake of feasting on the flesh of the living. People were scared, they wanted protection from the beasts. In the midst of a wave of Werewolf killings the local armed militia began hiring mercenaries for the task of killing any and all Werewolves in the Eastern region. Men, daring and brave were offered the highest bid to kill a Werewolf. Such prospects was in reality, a foolish venture. Because of mass hysteria and ignorance, many people were falsely accused of being Werewolves. To make matters worst what were thought to be Werewolf attacks was sometimes the work of Vampires. In such dark times there seemed to be no hope. One man sought to change that.
Michael was born to a pure blooded Werewolf clan, whose lineage dates back to ancient Rome. As a pure blood he had much greater control over his beastly form then some of his brethren. Though not requiring the moon's light he often did transform sheerly for fun. Unlike his current 20th century persona. The Michael from 300 years ago was a much darker individual. Violent, carefree, cold and brutal he cared little for the plight of others. He killed at leisure, not hesitating to slaughter anyone who wrongly stepped to him. Whilst he didn't kill for the sake of killing it was not too uncommon for him to kill and feed at leisure. Assuming an occupation as a mercenary, death and combat were all he knew. Being a Werewolf he was an outcast. The humans hated and feared him. Even among his brethren it was hard to find solace. So Michael took to roaming the country side at his own choosing. Taking up jobs where he could, killing those that threatened him. A true monster among monsters.
There were some who willingly laid down their lives to slay the beasts. One man, Lawrence Christensen was such a character. A brutal and fierce noblemen, he sought to expand his territories by any means. He had a large number of troops at his command and was one of the most feared and powerful figures in all of Eastern France. Lawrence was a noble and in keeping with the current times, quite wealthy. His lands unfortunately were frequently attacked by Werewolves, the beasts killing numerous villagers of the neighboring towns. He armed his militia, preparing to hunt down and kill all wolves in his territory. Whilst he was driven by power and fortune, he did have a more gentle side. Lawrence held a particular strong love and devotion to his beloved daughter Anya. Anya was his only child and as such he showered her with material wealth and affection. Unlike other women her age she did not develop an obnoxious or pretentious personality. Despite her father's cold and brutal actions she was a kind, caring and cheerful young woman. She was also quite beautiful. Having inherited her mother's full statuesque figure, gorgeous jet black hair, hazel eyes, and light colored skin she garnered the attention of a number of male suitors. All willing to offer her every luxury and pleasure they could afford. She wasn't interested, she didn't desire any of that. In time Anya would meet the man she would come to call her true love.
On one evening after leaving a social gathering Anya was attacked by a group of thugs, later revealed to be vampires. Facing death her life was about to be cut short, until Michael showed. After brutally killing the attacking blood fiends he found himself enamored by this woman. Knowing better then to involve himself with a mortal, especially the daughter of a powerful noble he left her. It did not last, he found himself thinking of her non-stop. Because of his position as a mercenary he was soon hired by Anya's father to join his own personal force of armed hit men. With such a job, he could become closer to this woman that filled with such joy and inner peace. What was it about her? Her beautiful lush figure? The way she was so warm and gentle? Michael had long ago surrendered his humanity but Anya somehow made it resurface. As the two grew closer a greater realization soon came over him. He was in love.
They kept their union a secret. Lawrence would never stand for some lowly hired muscle bedding his daughter let alone a Werewolf. Michael loved Anya with every fiber of his person, and she returned the love. Such a union proved a great source of strength for Michael. Unfortunately it would also prove to be his downfall.
It had now been two years since Michael and Anya met. The pair were planning to spend the evening together, like they always did. Far away from her father's lands Michael waited patiently at their meeting spot. It was a small cabin within the forest close by a meadow. Michael, dressed in a white shirt and black pants and shoes stood outside. He looked up, he heard the sound of a horse neighing. Peering in the darkness of the evening he saw a robed individual ride up to the cabin. Dropping off the horse the person pulled their hood back. It was Anya, dressed in an elegant black gown. Grinning Michael bowed as she approached. "Good evening, lady Anya" he said. Anya smiled warmly, nodding. "Good evening to you too Sir" she replied. Wasting no time Michael walked up and wrapped his arms around her hips. Pulling her close he kissed her, she returned the kiss as the lovers embraced each other tenderly. As if to compliment the romantic union, the night sky was beautifully lit with stars.
Michael and Anya consummated their meeting, making sweet and passionate love over and over. After an extended love making session the pair lay on the floor of the cabin in front of the fire place. Naked with his arms wrapped around her Michael gently ran his fingers down her neck and back. "Michael, do you ever wish you could be human?" Anya asked curiously. Michael chuckled, "What makes you ask that?" he said. Anya shrugged, stroking his arm. "I'm just curious. I can't imagine what it must feel to have people view you as a monster. To be hated, feared, and persecuted. So, do you?" she asked again. Michael remained silent before sighing. "Before I met you Anya my life was nothing but darkness. I've killed so many people. Sometimes for petty reasons. There's no getting around it, I am a monster. I was born a monster and I always will be one. But the day I met you I saw hope. Hope I can be so much more then a killing beast. So no I don't wish I could be human. I don't need to, I have you my love." he said placing a gentle kiss on her lips. She returned one as she smiled. Sitting up Michael took her by the hands, "Run away with me" he said. Her eyes rose, "What?"
Michael put on a serious expression. "I'm tired of it all. The killing, the violence. Come away with me. Some place far. We can start anew, live a life in peace and solitude. Anya as long as I have you by my side my life is complete. Please, come with me." he pleaded. Anya too sat up, sighing she gazed into his amber eyes. "Michael, I love you so much but...how could we...where could we stay? Because you're a Werewolf no one would ever accept you. And if my father found out he woul-"
"I don't care, let him. Your father does nothing but fan the flames of hatred for my kind. Anya, I want you and nothing else. Please, come with me" he again pleaded. Anya remained silent before smiling, "I will. When the time is right. I love you Michael." she said. "I love you Anya" he replied kissing her strongly. He held the embrace before gently placing her down and rolling on top. Anya smiled, stroking his face and feeling his muscular frame. Michael kissed her again as they once again prepared for a round of passionate and strong love making.
Unbeknown to Michael, Lawrence was suspicious of Anya's actions. She was a shady figure in his eyes. Frequently leaving the grounds at night for long hours to return later. She avoided contact with him, refused to meet any suitors he tried introducing her to and showed no care or interest in the matters of the security of his lands. He hired several of his mercenaries to follow her travels, on one such occasion she was followed to yet another meeting with Michael. When alerted, Lawrence was not happy. "So he has sullied my family name by bedding my daughter? The arrogance of that fool." Lawrence spat in disgust. Seated in his personal chambers, the noblemen dressed in a red and silver shirt, black pants and shoes was furiously angry. One of his best mercenaries, Thomas folded his arms. A smug look of satisfaction and triumph on his face. Lawrence closed his eyes and sighed, opening them he clenched his fists before stroking his gray hair.
"My lord, if word gets out it won't look good. What will you have us do?' Thomas asked. Lawrence growled, "Keep an eye on my daughter. The next time she leaves the grounds in the evening follow her. If she sees this Michael person again, kill him." he ordered. Thomas nodded, "There is something else. One of the men accompanying heard rumors Michael may be something...in-human" he said drawing a curious look from Lawrence who rose his eyebrows. "Explain" he said. Thomas informed of rumors circulating that Michael was indeed a Werewolf. Although such a notion is in fact true, it only made matters worst. Lawrence now set out to destroy the monster he believed corrupted his daughter.
A few weeks passed. Michael continued working for both Anya's father as well as other noblemen whom hired his services. In his spare time he saw Anya frequently, the two continuing their secret love. Michael thought of her constantly and it pained him to continue keeping their union secret. It all culminated with him taking the next step. He was going to claim her as his mate.
When a Werewolf falls in love the union is not complete until their soul mate is claimed as their own. Once a Werewolf has claimed his/her mate they are bound for life, ironic considering real life wolves mate for life. By claiming their mate, the two are emotionally and physically connected. Michael can know all of Anya's moods and emotions, even being able to sense when she is in danger. Such abilities is to ensure the mate of the wolf is always protected and bound by love. The time had come, if only at a more optimal one.
In typical fashion the pair had snuck away into the forest. In a large clearing underneath the starry sky Michael began the process. Holding Anya's hands he gazed into her hazel eyes, his passion and emotions becoming more intense. "I, Michael take you Anya to be my mate. I will be your protector, provider, friend, companion and love. I promise I will love you with every ounce of strength I have in me. Anya Christensen, do you accept and return my undying love?" he said. Anya sighed, her hands trembling. Her eyes flooded with tears as she nodded, "Yes I do." she answered. Michael pulled her close, gently holding her he stared at her. 'Something troubles you, I can feel it. You're shaking. Anya what is it?" he asked a little worried. Anya sniffled, "A wonderful blessing has been bestowed upon us Michael." she said. Michael didn't reply, confused he was about to speak when he suddenly jerked his head to the right. Sniffing he growled as he took Anya and stood in front of her. "Anya, were you followed?" he asked as she looked on worriedly. "No of course not why?" she asked. Michael glared towards the forest, "We're not alone." he said as the sound of men shouting and swearing echoed through the clearing.
A large group of about 10 men came into view, armed with various weaponry from swords and pikes to axes and cross bows. "Found you, thought you had your daddy fooled didn't you wench?" Thomas insulted causing Michael to shake with anger. The mercenaries were under orders to kill Michael and bring Anya to her father. "Well boys you know the deal. Kill that clown and then we collect our pay!" he said as the men cheered and made lewd comments.
Narrowing his eyes Michael spoke to Anya, not taking his eyes off the group. "Do you love me? No matter what I do. No matter what you see or hear. Do you love me?" he asked. Anya nodded, "Yes." Sighing his body tensed, "I said before I am a monster. You're about to see why." he said. Anya had no time to reply. She blinked and he was gone, speeding to the group he ran behind the nearest one. Tensing, he kicked the man into a nearby boulder as his body smashed into it in a bloody paste. The mercenaries, once confident were no terrified. Michael turned around, his visage a look of malice and rage. Growling his eyes flashed as he ran forward. "Kill him!" Thomas shouted as the men circled him. One armed with an axe swung at his head, Michael ducked and rolled underneath. Getting back to his fight he leaned back as another attacked with a sword. Grabbing the man by the hand he bent his arm back before snapping his wrist. The man cried in pain as Michael then tossed him into the group. Turning to his right he watched as another took aim with a cross bow. Firing an arrow Michael caught it in his hand, snapping it he sped forward in a blur. His nails turning to sharp claws as he decapitated the man in one swing. Blood gushed out as his head bounced on the ground.
Thomas and the other mercenaries continued trying to attack, all in vain. Michael either killed or maimed one of the group. Tearing off a man's leg he tossed it at another as he then ripped through the man chest. Thomas shuddered, taking a step back. Only five men remained and all were equally scared. "What the hell are you? You're a monster!" he shouted as they dropped their weapons. Michael glared, looking up he saw more men arrive on horseback. Anya stood a few feet behind him. Shaking with anger Michael removed his shirt, tossing it off exposing his rippling muscular frame. Anya gasped, she knew what would happen. "Michael don't! You know what will happen!" she shouted but Michael continued. With a sharp growl he began transforming, his clothes ripping off as he grew to 8 feet tall. His eyes glowed with intensity, his face turning to a long snout. With a growl he completed his transforming now standing as a massive two legged wolf. Rearing back he howled. The men stared, they all trembled with fear.
"Impossible, there's no full moon out. It's impossible! What the hell is he?" one of them shouted. Michael stared at them, spreading his arms his muscles flexed as he roared, a powerful sound as it carried through the forest clearing causing all the men and Anya to cover their ears. Michael snorted twice before snarling, his teeth fully bared. Several of them men began retreating. Only Thomas and three others remained, frozen with fear. Snorting Michael turned to Anya, she stood in awe. This was the first time she had seen him transformed. His anger and fearsome expression softened. Michael whined once as Anya walked closer. "So this is your real form. Michael...you're...beautiful" she said more in awe and reverence then fear. Michael panted before whining, his expression turning to warmth and gentleness, even for a Werewolf. Anya reached out to touch him, but Michael suddenly howled in tremendous agony. She gasped and jumped back as he crumbled down. A silver cross bow stuck into his back. Four more were fired, jamming into his body. Michael snarled in pain as the transformation began to reverse. Looking up, Anya saw her father holding a cross bow. Lawrence was furious, his brow furrowing together. Anya began sobbing, trying to pull the arrows out of Michael's back whom was now back in human form.
Lawrence stormed over, disgusted. As Anya stood up he slapped her hard causing her to fall. "Father please just listen I beg you! He has never hurt me only loved and protected me! Please you must!-"
"BE SILENT YOU SWINE!" he bellowed causing her to jump. He gripped her tightly by the neck. "I wanted to believe the lies. I long suspected foul play but this? He is a beast! An animal and you let him de-flower you how could you he is a Werewolf?" Lawrence shouted. Anya chocked, "Father...I love him" she said simply. Lawrence stood up, swearing as Michael grit his teeth trying to stand. The silver arrows burning his flesh. "You have betrayed me! To be with a Werewolf! I loved you more then anything!" Lawrence shouted at Anya. He motioned Thomas over. "Get them out of here, both of them. They are going to stand trial." he spat disgusted. Thomas and three other mend ragged Michael to a nearby horse and tied him to it. Michael's vision began to blur. "Anya...my love.." he whispered. It was the beginning of the end.
Several hours later, in the court yard of their estate Michale was bound by silver chains. Hanging from a pole, his torso exposed. Lawrence along with his mercenaries and several prominent political and social figures were seeing him stand trial. He was to be tortured and later executed for his affair with Anya. The latter of whom stood on the other side, tears streaming down as she watched the persecution begin. A tall lanky man, a local nobleman spoke up, in the center.
"For the crime of being a Werewolf, and for violating the daughter of lord Christensen. The accused, Michael will face 25 lashes with a silver lash. After that he shall be staked then executed. Let the process commence" he said. Michael breathed in heavily. A different man clad in armor stood behind him. He held a silver lash, a long piece of chain with several jagged pieces of silver spikes and daggers tied to the end. Lawrence nodded, seated facing Michael. The man swung, hard as he scourged Michael's back. Grimacing in pain he braced himself as it continued. Each lash drew more and more blood, Michael's back and shoulders becoming horribly slashed and torn. The Werewolf cried out.
"15...16...17...18..19...20...21.." Thomas counted smugly. Lawrence watched on in triumph. Michael howled out from the pain. The final slash tore into his spine leaving bits of it exposed. With such damage it would take even him some time to regenerate. Anya couldn't take anymore, she ran to her father's seat. Tears streaming down she sobbed, 'Father enough please you've made your point! Please spare him! End this trial. For the sake of your grandchild!" she pleaded. Despite his injuries, Michael managed to look up. Her words stung him like a stake to the heart. Everyone in the court began murmuring amongst themselves. Some chuckled in sadistic pleasure, other gasped and contorted their face in disgust. Lawrence's eyes widened, Anya took his hand and placed it on her torso. He could feel her unborn child kick and move. "A miracle father. A union of the bloodlines. Our baby is a blessing, please spare Michael." she once again pleaded. Lawrence took his hand away, shaking with rage. "I may have been able to redeem your image but not after this. No, now the both of you will suffer. The accused along with his whore and their abomination germinating in her womb shall both face death!" Lawrence shouted as the men and women of the court applauded. Michael shook, "Lawrence...she is your daughter. Kill me but please spare her! I beg you!" Michael said. Several guards grabbed Anya, dragging her over to be hanged. Michael tried break free only to be whipped three more times.
It wasn't long before a noose was placed around her neck. Anya looked first at her father then at Michael who began cursing and snarling. She smiled, amidst sobs. "Michael...thank you for showing me true love. We will meet again, on the other side. Farewell my love." she said just as Lawrence gave the order for her to be hanged. With a strong snap a guard pulled the lever, her body dropping as she was hung. Michael began crying out, he lashed about in a fit of madness. "No! ANYA!" he shouted over and over. Lawrence turned his head, closing his eyes he sobbed twice before sighing. "Kill the dog. Then burn their bodies." he ordered as the crowd began talking amongst themselves.
Michael slumped down, sobbing at the knowledge he lost not only his mate but his child as well. His sobs turned to fierce snarls, his teeth sharpening as his eyes flashed. "Bastards...you will all pay...I will make you pay.." he threatened. The guard whipping him watched in horror as his back hissed, his horrible wounds closed up as they healed.
"What...impossible.." he said preparing to whip him again. Michael ripped out the chains bounding his arms. Turning around he leaped unto the guard and savagely bit into his neck. A woman in the crowd screamed as panic broke out. Michael stood up, his eyes flashing as he snapped and snarled. Spitting out blood his muscles flexed as he began shifting. "I'll kill you! ALL OF YOU!" he roared as his body turned to his wolf form. With a savage roar he ran through the court. Brutally killing any and everyone in his path. Men tried cutting him down only to be torn to pieces. Even women weren't spared from his wrath. Lawrence looked on in horror, he tried to run out as a swarm of guards charged Michael. The Werewolf roared as he knocked them aside. Biting the head off one he tore another in half as he jumped unto Lawrence. The noblemen shook in fear, trying to break free. Michael barked and snarled, his fangs glistening.
"You can't hear my thoughts but I loved Anya more then life itself. I would have protected her from the gates of Hell itself. You stole my love. Now you will die!" Michael thought to himself as he bit into Lawrence's neck. The man screamed, blood pouring to the floor. Michael ripped into his neck before slashing his body in two. Roaring he dashed off. For the remainder of the night Michael went on a brutal and bloody slaughter. He killed everyone in the court yard. No one was safe from his wrath. By early light the entire court was littered with bloody and mangled corpses.
Michael burned the entire estate to the ground. Carrying Anya's body far away he buried her in the forest. Placing a cross unto her grave he dropped to his knees, sobbing as tears poured from his face. "Anya...I am so sorry my love. If I had been less selfish and thought more about your safety I could have saved you. Please forgive me, I love you Anya" he said trembling. Anya may be gone but her memory and spirit continued to live in Michael. The Werewolf, having lost his mate and his child was now consumed by rage and hatred. He despised humans and wanted them to suffer. Michael now entered the darkest portion of his life. Driven by pain, loss and malice he sought to infect and turn as many people into Lycanthropes as he could. Since his beloved Anya was killed because she not only lay with one, but sired a child by one he judged all humans to be guilty of the same hatred. Michael's wrath eventually brought him all the way to Russia.
The year is 1810. Michael having committed himself to spreading the Lycanthrope plague to every corner of the world now set his sights on Russia. No one was spared from his madness as he killed and infected any and everyone in his path. Having formed himself a sizable pack of wolves under his command they terrorized the country side. Destroying villages, killing and brutalizing everyone they could. Their destruction seemed unstoppable. However unknown to Michael, a resistance was being formed. A small group of Russian Orthodox priests had formed an alliance to combat the Werewolf and other supernatural forces of evil. The Order of the Cross was the light in these dark times, serving as Heaven's own wrath and destruction against all forces that threatened mankind and Christendom. Michael and his pack heard of this group, but did not feel threatened. A group of ordinary humans against a pack of Werewolves? What a foolish notion.
Michael and his pack traveled to a village where the Order was preparing to defend. The wolves gathered atop a large hill. Michael stood at the front, flanked by seven others. Grinning he stared down at the dwelling below. "Fools, do they really think some merry band of priests can stand against us? Fine. Kill everyone in that dump. Feast on their flesh then burn the town to ash." he commanded as his pack howled in response. Word soon reached the village of the pack's coming attack. The Order's head, Vitali did not back down. Dressed in his priest's suit and carrying a large silver cross he narrowed his gray eyes. Behind him were several other members of the Order. "We do not back down from the forces of Hell. God will see us through this fight. Amen." he said as the others responded. Darkness soon fell, the Werewolves attacked. Michael, in his black wolf form looked on in utter disbelief as the men of the Order not only fought back but actually began to defeat them. A long arduous battle, it was not long before Michael was the sole survivor. Panting heavily and suffering severe wounds he looked around. The bodies of his pack mates collected in a giant heap. They had been destroyed with various silver weaponry ending with their heads being cut off. Transforming back to his human form, Michael lay on his back, clutching his sides. Vitali walked towards him, pulling out a silver stake and beginning to recite various Scriptures and prayers.
"All flesh is grass. All the flowers of the field is grass. Though the grass withereth, the flower fadeth, the word of our God abideth forevermore. In his name we are the instruments of divine wrath upon this earth. Demons flee before him. The Angels bow to him. And the name of the Lord holds power over all, all are subject to his glory. Praise be to the Lord our God. Amen" Vitali finished. He then jammed the stake deep into Michael's chest. The Werewolf cried out in pain as he coughed up blood. Tattered and torn, his amber eyes beginning to fade as blood trickled down his face. "Have...I been...bested...sir?" he mumbled. Vitali nodded, folding his arms. "Indeed you have Lycan. Your pack destroyed, your life fading. What awaits you is damnation. What will you do now, Werewolf?" he said. Michael chuckled before spitting up more blood. "Go ahead priest, do it. End my life. I have nothing more to live for in this world. When I die, surely your God shall judge me yes? Go ahead and send me to him then." Michael said grinning despite his wounds. Vitali narrowed his eyes, a cold expression causing even Michael to flinch. Kneeling down to one knee he shook his head.
"Terrible, atrocious, vile sins have been committed by your hands Werewolf. If you die now you will be judged and condemned to an eternity of suffering and torment in Hell." he said. Michael didn't respond, just stared. Standing back up Vitali sighed as two other priests walked up. "But, the God we serve does not delight in the death of the wicked. Even the most sinful of souls can receive his grace for the Lord our God is kind and merciful. You have two choices, Life or Death. Which will you choose Werewolf? Will you die and face judgment? Or will you live and be bound to our Order?" he said.
Michael laughed, his eyes flashed. "Life or death eh? Death doesn't too bad right now. And I probably do deserve to go to Hell. But, I'm no quitter. If you offer mercy I'm the type that takes it. So then Sir, what happens from here?" he asked. Vitali nodded, "From this moment on you are to serve my Order. And to the successive generations to come until we fade from the world or you die. Your are bound to my family forevermore, Werewolf." Michael grinned. Reaching his hand up he bit into it, drawing blood. Holding it out he sighed, "I make this blood pact. I shall serve the Order of the Cross and the generations whom lead it until my Lord release me, or death take me." he stated. And so began Michael's bound life to the Order of the Cross. Vitali and Michael journeyed away from the country side, taking residence in the town of Moscow. There the Order established its home base and became Russia's protection from supernatural evil. Michael subsequently served the leader of the Order, whom was always a descendant of the Sokolov bloodline. Being the Order's greatest weapon he was kept in line only by an heir to the bloodline. As time grew Michael was allowed to form another pack, this one to aid in his service to the Order.
His first pack mate was a man named Karl. A war criminal from West Africa, he was an enforcer for a local guerilla unit. Michael encountered him on a mission to the region in 1820. He would later find out this man was no mortal, but a fellow Werewolf. A pure blood just like Michael, he at first resisted his offer of service. After a fierce struggle ending with Karl submitting to Michael's power and might, he eventually joined the pack. Through the years Michael would encounter more individuals. All criminals or derelicts, having been cast aside from society. In 1842 he turned Robert, in 1850 he turned Raul. And then in 1910 he turned the Russian twins Sergei and Alex into fellow wolves. With Michael as the alpha the pack served the Order to their best. They combated a wide range of enemies. Werewolves, vampires, goblins, ogres, witches and at one point even encountered the Wendigo in the frozen lands of Siberia.
The story will now skip to the first time Michael and Vladimir met, when he was just 13 years old.
"Whoa dad that's a big one!" the young Vladimir exclaimed to his father, Vladimir Sr. At the Order's headquarters in Moscow in the nearby forest Vladimir was being introduced for the first time to Michael and the pack. Before then they were kept in secret, until his father deemed it appropriate. Standing, gazing at the massive sized Werewolves he couldn't help but be impressed. In the naïve and excited way all teenage boys would be. His father chuckled, gazing back at Michael whom stood at the head of the pack. His black fur bristling as he gave a low snort. The rest of the pack did the same. "Indeed he is my boy. He is the largest wolf our Order has ever seen. A pure blood, old and powerful. He is unlike any other creature" he explained. Vladimir's eyes scanned back and forth. First to Michael, then to his father and back again. He jumped up and down. "Is it true what they say dad? About Werewolves? Do they always change at the full moon? Are they really stronger then 20 men? Can they run faster then a horse? Do the-"
"Settle down son. But yes, most of the older tales about these creatures is true. Do you know why the Werewolf is so fearsome?" Vladimir Sr. asked his son. Frowning Vladimir folded his arms. "Aww come on pop you know I don't like this quiz stuff! Just tell me!" he insisted. His father narrowed his eyes, gently taking his shoulder and clutching it tenderly. "Because they are strong. It really is no simpler then that. They are strong, my son. Stronger then any human could ever hope to be. Far stronger then the most muscled and chiseled body builder. They can crush stones into gravel with their bare hands. They can shatter bone with a single blow. With one arm they can lift a boulder with a diameter twice their body height. And when it comes to humans well...let's just say we're small wimpy little bugs to them. They can easily tear a human apart like wet tissue paper. The Werewolf is a powerful beast, it is both a blessing and a curse." he explained. Unfortunately, most of that went past Vladimir as he again began fidgeting.
"Do you think I can pet him?" he asked. Vladimir Sr. raised his eyebrow, "This is not a pet son." he said sharply causing Vladimir to flinch. "I must remind you that these Werewolves serve our Order. They have so for centuries. This isn't some harmless Labrador or Rottweiler off the street. These are monsters. You must understand that as the heir to the bloodline you have the ability to control them." he said. Vladimir looked down at his feet, causing his father's tone to soften. "But..." he began. "I can't see any harm in asking." he said gesturing for him to approach Michael. The Werewolf let out a low rumble, his tongue rolling back and forth between his teeth. Vladimir walked up, gazing at the towering beast. "Well...is it alright?" he asked. Michael and the other wolves gave out an odd sound. It was a combination of a yelp and a bark. Laughter. Vladimir Sr. chuckled. "It seems they find your curiosity touching my son." he encouraged. Michael crouched to all fours, allowing Vladimir to stroke his face, going to his snout and then the back of his neck. His fur was surprisingly soft, and very warm. Vladimir laughed, "Oh man cool!" he exclaimed. That was the first time Michael and Vladimir met. Their relationship to each other having grown to master and servant. Michael's past was one of pain, loss and darkness. As a monster, he was outcast from society. The woman he loved and child he never knew tragically taken from him. At one point, death itself was inches away from claiming his life. Perhaps this was his way to redemption. Serving an organization devoted to destroying monsters in return for life? Michael sure thought so.
Now the pendulum stops swinging. We go back now to present events where the story continues...
Vladimir sat in his office. Despite being away from his home town and with the threat of war, he managed to reflect on some events of the past. Sighing he looked up as the door opened and in walked Mariska. Wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants and black heels she nodded. 'Something troubling you? I can always tell when you've been thinking." she said as Vladimir chuckled. "Nah just thinking back to when I first met Michael and the others. I was such a clueless brat. I even asked if I could pet him!" he said laughing. Mariska shook her head, "Honestly I don't know how Michael has put up with your antics all these years." she said. She walked closer to his desk, sitting on top she let her legs swing over before crossing them. "Michael seemed to change almost entirely since Kathy joined the pack. Do you think he's finally over Anya?" she asked. Vladimir stood up, walking to his window he looked outside before shaking his head. "No, he'll carry that pain until the day he dies. A Werewolf never gets over losing a mate. I suspect he may harbor some...'fluff' for Kathy. She reminds him so much of Anya. If anything brews between the two of them he would approach it in the same manner." Vladimir said turning to face her.
Mariska smiled warmly, "It would be good for him. Well look at you sounding all concerned about him. You must have a lot of a love for him." she said. Vladimir made an odd expression before shrugging. "Eh, he's a weapon of sorts and I use him. Works out pretty nicely" he teased. Mariska chuckled, her expression soon melted turning serious. "This war that is coming has me thinking. What if something happens? What if we lose you? Or Michael and the pack?" she said. Vladimir waved his hand. "Relax, if my ancestors could face down all manner of Hell for centuries then so can we. We've dealt with Victor before and we know how he operates. We'll crush him for good. I would place my life on it" he said confident. Mariska folded her arms, tossing her hair to the side. "Well sir I can't let you place your life on anything. You made a very important proposal to me" she said holding up her hand. A massive diamond ring rested on her ring finger. Vladimir chuckled walking over as he placed his arms around her hips. "True, you know we Sokolov men always honor our word. Especially to women. I promise, we will win this war. And then we will have time to focus on us. I promise." he said. She smiled, he leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, deepening the embrace he pulled away tenderly. Mariska gazed into his eyes before nodding. "Alright, I'll go and contact Hellsing now and arrange a meeting so we can discuss battle tactics." she said. Vladimir planted another kiss before letting her down, groping her bottom and causing her to blush slightly as she turned to leave the room. Sitting back in his chair he reached into his desk and pulled out a photo. It was an ancient portrait of his ancestor Vitali Sokolov. "I'm sure you would be happy old man. We have kept this Order running stronger then ever. To God be the glory" he said placing it back in.
End Chapter
There you have it. I admit I added a bit more romance then originally planned (being it's not really a strong point of mine...) so if you found any of the love scenes a little cheesy then eh, I'm no Shakespeare. Stay tuned, next chapter up as soon as I can manage. Hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading!