Chapter Seventeen:
Full Moon
The Olde Woods:
Karl forced himself to snap out of his statue of paralysis, and he instinctively pulled out his last remaining weapon – his knife.
But the charging she-wolf hesitated only briefly at the sight of Karl holding the knife before him as he pressed his back against a tree. Then she pushed herself on, bearing down on the human – driven on by her bestial hunger, under the light of the full moon.
The second, larger wolf did not slow down at all – and now it was drawing level with his kindred companion…
Then it swiftly turned and rammed its body into that of the she-wolf. The lupines tumbled into a shallow hollow – and a succession of yelps, snarls, and furious fighting followed. Dumbstruck by his change of fortune, Karl then reminded himself to breathe steadily. The sweat ran down his face, as he remained on edge and ready to fight for his life – even when his unexpected rescuer sank his jaws into the nape of the she-wolf's neck and got her to submit as he held her down with his forepaws. Then, releasing her, the dog-wolf licked his fangs clean and looked up meaningfully at Karl. Briefly closing his eyes in concentration, the form of the dog-wolf then charged. Along with the connecting muscles and ligaments, bones 'crunched' as they twisted, and lengthened in some places - whilst shortening in others. The lupine face and skull turned human-like - and, moments later, a brown-furred wolf man lay before the watchful Karl. Guttural, barking sounds came out of the half-formed muzzle. With some repeated effort, the wolf man was able to speak in the human tongue.
"Apol…ogies, Mr Har-rison. Lucy caught…your scent…before I did."
Karl lowered his knife just slightly. "Thank you, Harlow Morgan," he replied carefully.
"You…worked out…my secret…"
"I have hunted werewolves before. I know of their advanced recuperative abilities. The condition in your bloodstream works hard to maintain the bodies of its hosts. Almost…"
"As if it…is a…living thing, itself… It is," Harlow confirmed.
Karl's eyes shifted to the silent, but alert she-werewolf. "Will Lucy regain her humanity at sunrise?"
"She will… The first…change for…our kind…is the…most painful… It leaves…us wild, ravenous… But after…repeated moon cycles…I have…built up some control…as you…can see…and hear. It is…not easy." Harlow's face and ears drooped. "I am sorry…for inflicting…my curse…upon Lucy."
"The blood transfusion. As you told Lord Hanbrook and myself, it was the only way that you could save Lucy's life from the Gargoyle's stone touch. You gave her one curse to free her from another," Karl breathed. "But I…I forgive you. You appear to be…a responsible…parent…for a werewolf."
"Thank you… I lost…my own family… So I…seek redemption," Harlow huffed. "Maybe I can…find it…through Miss Lucy."
"Tell me. Quickly."
"My wife…and I…were attacked…by a werewolf…in France…five years ago. She was…torn apart. I survived…but was cursed. My daughter, Harriett..., looked after me. Locked me…in basements…during full moons. I forced myself…to develop self-control. Then we…hunted down…the monster…who slaughtered…my wife. I made…him pay. Later, Harriett…and I sailed…to this country. She drugged me… full moon night…during the voyage. I sought a cure…, whilst Harriett studied…the arcane, for help. Then, one…full moon…she drew up…a magical barrier…to pen me…in our cave…in the mountains. Barrier failed… I broke out…" Harlow's form shook with self-loathing. "I chased my daughter… In the dark outside…she fell…off a cliff edge…and died. My fault… I howled for her…, in my despair. But I overcame…my desire…to kill myself. Now I still…search for a cure…"
"Your experiments? In your workshop…," Karl speculated.
"Yes… As well as…working on…my inventions. But even…taking wolfsbane…has not worked. The condition…is too rooted…within me."
Karl gave a grim nod. "You helped to cause part of the nightmare that Shadowbrook is now suffering from," he pointed out. "You infected Major Bruckner."
A pained expression came over the face of the wolf man, and he huffed. "I know… Not my intention. Was trying…to save…that woman…from Bruckner…and his thugs! I tried to kill…him at his farm…before he could turn – but the dog…stopped me. Later learned…dog infected…, now dead." Harlow hung his half-lupine head. "Now want to ensure…Miss Lucy…harms no one. Hate myself…for the mess…I've caused."
"I see…" Karl turned his attention back to the silent she-werewolf who Harlow was still pinning down. "Lucy… Do you recognize me now?" he breathed.
Lucy raised her head and growled at him, exposing her fangs.
"Feed her…," Harlow rasped.
"Feed her…?" Realizing that Harlow was making a suggestion to him, Karl began to smile. "Yes – of course!" he exclaimed. Dropping his knife and knapsack, the ex-soldier pulled some dry portions of meat and carefully placed them before Lucy, who sniffed at them.
Harlow slowly eased his weight off from his protégé – his body tense, ready to throw himself at Lucy if she bolted and attacked Karl, Lucy glanced at her werewolf sire, whined, and - upon receiving a gesture of approval – trotted forward towards Karl, only to stop halfway. She breathed in his scent, as well as that of the food. Then she ploughed her muzzle into the dry meat, using her forepaws to aid her as she tore and wolfed down the meat. Soon Lucy had finished and she stood still on all fours before Karl in the dim light, licking her sharp fangs – no longer a victim of the Gargoyle, but now a supernatural predator of the night herself, taking her place alongside her maker.
"Safe now…for you," Harlow growled. "Your existing bond…helping Lucy to remember. Go…to her."
Taking a deep breath, Karl lowered the knife that he had picked up again, and slowly walked over to the she-wolf, keeping eye contact. Kneeling down, he took a leap of faith and stroked the back of her head, finding Lucy's cranial fur to be pleasant, like a dog's. Her dark lips pulled back into a canine smile, and she lolled out her tongue – then Lucy shifted suddenly and rubbed her dark, cold nose against Karl's beard. He gasped, but then put away his knife and laughed. Moments later, he was embracing her, feeling tears flowing from his eyes.
"I had feared that I had lost you, Lucy…," he managed to say. "I'm so glad that you are alive! I'm glad that you are still…you!"
Lucy responded by licking away his tears. Inside her mind, her half-buried humanity was trying to merge with her newborn lupine persona. She was inhaling Karl's scent, committing it to memory – encouraging her wolf to accept the two-legs as a friend of their small pack, instead of as prey. This man had helped to save her life. He was not to be harmed…
Watching the pair bond, Harlow gave a relieved sigh. Now, given the changing situation, they had to decide what their next move would be. Bruckner and his Feral Kin would not be far away…
The movement of air alerted him to the gliding assailant before any of them saw – or heard – its approach. Harlow snarled a warning – but Karl and Lucy had barely turned before the legs of the Grotesque clamped themselves around Karl's torso and held him tightly in place, as he was torn away from the howling Lucy. Within moments, the monster hunter found himself being carried up into the air above the clearing where he had been with Lucy and Harlow.
"No! Lucy!" Karl cried out, unable to reach the knife tucked into his belt – thanks to the minion's leg being in the way. Then he gritted his teeth, feeling the crushing grip of his captor squeezing him.
Lucy and Harlow wailed out their shock and dismay, but in response the Grotesque gave a 'screech' of triumph that rang out louder than their cries. Then, beating its wings, the fiend banked in the night air in the light of the half-hidden moon and turned to head northwards…
Karl looked out upon the countryside before him, lit here and there by lanterns that occasionally dotted the blackness. As the Grotesque drew closer to its destination, a building loomed out of the gloom, and Karl's heart sank as he realized where they were heading…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Town Hall:
Despite the recovery of Doctor Manning from his werewolf infliction, he and his understudy – Cochrane – had their hands full, and the Doctor's Surgery was packed out. However, there was a stroke of luck. Another doctor – who had stopped in Shadowbrook just before the siege had fallen – was now using the Town Hall to help treat the injured from the church, including the Scarlet Shadow, to Katarina's relief. And Sophie found her nursing skills being called upon also. Unknown to most people, this was preventing her from getting back to the attic of the Town Hall, in order to relieve her apprentice – whose magical energy was still maintaining the barrier of flames around the town.
However to her relief, she spied Inspector Jonathan Cooke being helped by Ben into the Town Hall's main room. As soon as she was able to, she hurried over to him and checked him over, examining his head and eyes in particular.
"Just exhaustion in your case, Inspector. You need to lie down, and take some food and water when you feel up to it," she announced.
"I'll check on him as I go round about my other duties, Miss," Ben declared. "I'll go out now and see what I can do."
Sophie nodded gratefully at him. "Check that the flames around the town are still burning, Mr Summersby!"
"Sure thing, Miss." Ben nodded and headed off.
Dabbing Cooke's forehead with a damp flannel, Sophie bent closer to him.
"Inspector… I need you to listen to me…"
Cooke focused his faltering concentration on her and smiled, taking in her attractive face and blonde locks. "You have my attention, Nurse O'Hare…"
She blushed.
"There's no time for that! Not right now, anyway… Listen - when I was in the church tower, after Mr Danforth sent the bell down… I looked out to see if there was any more trouble on the horizon… And I saw something that disturbed me."
Cooke frowned. "Another monster?"
Sophie bit her lip. "Not exactly…"
And then she told him of what she had witnessed.
Cooke's mind sharpened, as his law-enforcement mode of thought kicked into gear again. "I see…," he eventually replied, his eyes narrowed as he contemplated on the problem presented to him. Then his attention was diverted by the arrival of the stranded doctor.
"Well, well, if it isn't my old friend Jonathan Cooke." The apron-wearing, bespectacled man gave a smile that lit up his previously grim-looking face. He put down his medical case, turned his boyish features towards Sophie and smiled again. "I see that you are already being tended to. I'd better move onto more pressing patients."
Cooke nodded back, grinning. "Hopefully we can speak later, Cornelius."
"Doctor Edwards," Sophie dipped her head respectfully before joining the medic from Tidewater, in order to assess the other patients now awaiting their joint attention…
"Hold still! This will only take a moment," Cooke soon heard his old friend saying – not for the first time…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Church:
Outside, in the partly-cloudy night skies above Shadowbrook, the Grotesques were no longer present. Victor had retrieved his ax, and now he and Anne Marie remembered to check on the number of grotesques around the church roof – only to see that they had all disappeared. Each one of them having been animated by the dark magic of the Gargoyle itself. Then, joined by the recovered Inspector Cooke and Sergeant Allardyce, the men engaged in conversation with the playwright and schoolteacher, having followed their joint gazes upwards.
"They all came to life during the siege," Cooke declared wearily, wondering what other bizarre sights he would yet see before the crisis – or crises – finally ended. If he would survive, that was, he mused ruefully. "Why, I do not know…"
"We do!" Anne Marie and Victor spoke simultaneously. Then, with a smile, Victor gestured for Anne Marie to tell their story to the law enforcement officers from Boston. And so she did – with Victor filling in the gaps.
By the time they had told of what they had experienced so far that night, Cooke's serious expression had turned paler. "Reverend Harding…has been harboring this…Gargoyle? And you believe that either Lord or Lady Hanbrook…was responsible for the death of Harding's father?"
"Oui! And ze reverend should still be in Monsieur Morgan's trap, at his workshop!"
"You said that you wanted to head straight over to the Blacksmith's too, sir," Allardyce reminded him.
"I know, sergeant! But right now, the Reverend Harding is more important," Cooke snapped back. "I suggest that we all go there, right now."
But as they re-entered Harlow Morgan's workshop via the key that Anne Marie still had on her person, they were stopped in their tracks by the sight of the empty pit trap. A bible and a folded frock coat had been left behind on the floor of the trap, at the side…
" 'arding has used his possessions to stand on…!" Anne Marie exclaimed.
"…and thus managed to pull himself over the lip of the pit," Cooke concluded, crouched down to examine the marks on the floor where it met the activated trap, as he pulled out a magnifying glass from a pocket of his jacket. "He scratched the floor repeatedly. It must have been a struggle for him – but he cracked it in the end!"
Drawing out his pistol, Allardyce ran over to the back door and gingerly pushed it. It spun open. "He got out this way, sir," he called out. "No sign of him out here."
"Damn!" Cooke hissed. He looked pointedly at the rest of his party. "Let's track down a certain other person, then."
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Blacksmiths:
Just a few minutes later, Inspector Cooke, Sergeant Allardyce, Anne Marie, and Victor arrived at the Blacksmith's cottage, in order to find Isabella and Heidi. They came across the aftermath of the fighting that had taken place there. The Blacksmith was now washing his bloodstained pokers – whilst the two Feral Kin he had clobbered with them were lying dead just outside. Meanwhile, his wife – the redheaded Carla Dalton – was aiming a musket towards Isabella von Took, who remained trapped on the roof, prevented from climbing down due to the gun barrel pointed at her.
Upon seeing the arrivals, Isabella's expression first brightened then turned indignant. "Inspector Cooke! Ki-kindly help me. The Blacksmith and his w-wife are holding me ag-against my will!"
Anne Marie gasped, and was about to say something – but Cooke held up his hand to silence her intervention.
"I am Inspector Cooke, from Boston. Why are you pointing a gun at Madam von Took, instead of helping her down from her roof?" he asked Carla.
"My husband and I had barricaded ourselves in the cottage when we heard those wolf creatures running this way, Inspector," Carla answered. "But we were unable to shut our bedroom window to. We heard the commotion through it. This woman climbed onto the roof, but her servant was seized by one of these fiends when she grabbed her mistress's dress…"
"The girl pleaded with her mistress to pull her up. Instead, von Took shot her servant dead – in order to save her own skin!" Hector Dalton growled as he walked out to join them.
"Isabella! You did not...!" Anne Marie blurted out.
"No! I did…did not. This couple are mi-mistaken," Isabella stuttered. "The Feral Kin seized po-poor Heidi and tore her apart!"
Anne Marie turned away from the carnage, and Victor wrapped an arm around her, as if to shield her from the latest horror they had stumbled upon. Heidi's body had indeed been ripped into, and was now scattered around the space next to the cottage. But, as Anne Marie shot a hesitant look over her shoulder, she saw Sergeant Allardyce examining the decapitated head of the handmaiden.
"Single gunshot to the forehead, sir," he declared, looking up at Isabella and the pistol that she was still holding onto with her sweat-drenched right hand. Then it fell from her slippery grasp and bounced off the roof, to fall onto the street – fortunately in a spot that was clear of the gore and blood. Using his handkerchief to pick up the barrel, Cooke carefully opened the pistol up with his gloved hand and examined it. Then he snapped it shut with a note of finality.
"Empty! No wonder Mrs Dalton hasn't backed off from you, Madam von Took," Cooke told her, lifting his face as he did so.
"We heard her say there was only one bullet left. That's why she didn't shoot those…Feral Kin, as you seem to call them. Firing it at her servant instead gave those creatures something to fight over, instead of killing her," Carla reasoned.
"No...! Inspector, you would take the word of these commoners against mine!? You know that I am a noble woman… Heidi pleaded with me to kill her, before she could be torn apar-"
"Except that it's not just their word against yours, Madam von Took!" Cooke continued to address her formally, as his patience ran out. "I have already heard from another witness to the scene – and she too heard your servant plead for you to save her help, not end it! Right now, I do not have time to deal with you. I have a bigger fish to catch. Miss Piaget and Mr Danforth – perhaps you should stay here and assist the Daltons in rebuilding those fallen barrels and anything else as a ladder to get this infernal woman down! But she is to stay within the town, until I return for her!" And with that, he gestured for Sergeant Allardyce to follow him onwards as they tried to gauge their next move.
In the next street, Cooke released his pent-up breath as he shook his head in anger. "Too much is happening, sergeant…"
"Agreed, sir. Where do you think that Reverend Harding have got to now? He paused. "The vicarage?"
Cooke nodded. "Possibly. Let's check it out…," he trailed off, seeing Lord Hanbrook, Magistrate Kroft, Katarina, and the recovered Scarlet Shadow all running towards them. "Wh-what is it?" he asked, seeing the look of worry on their faces.
"The barrier of flames is now exhausted!" his lordship bristled, his eyes finally shining with terror after keeping up his calm, level-headed demeanor for so long. "And the howling has started again – coming from the eastern edge of the town. Bruckner is there! I know it!"
"I suggest that since the Gargoyle and its minions seem to be gone for now, we muster our forces and face this Major Bruckner and the Feral Kin. We need to end this!" the Scarlet Shadow opinioned. He held his dual pistols aloft, a grim expression evident in his eyes, above the red mask.
"I'm up for that. My place is besides you Darcius," Katarina added.
"Of course it is, my sweet. And, likewise, my place is with you." The Scarlet Shadow seemed to chuckle.
The group of six headed eastwards through the streets. Cooke did not know what the time was – except that midnight had come and gone, probably when he had been recuperating from his fight with the Living Statues. The realization that there had still been a part of Thomas Harrow's mind in the statue he had killed haunted the Inspector. He, and the others with him, might yet survive the long night. Or they could end up dead – slaughtered in any one of several ways. Or end up being turned into Feral Kin, or Living Statues…
He shuddered with revulsion at the thought he could become a near-mindless pawn of a malevolent being – forced to kill other people.
Ahead of them, there was shouting and screams. Two panting figures ran around the corner of the next junction – but halted upon seeing the party before them. It took a moment for Cooke to recognize one of them as Captain Townsend, who had evidently lost his tricorn hat in the past few minutes.
"Captain, report! What is happening?" Kroft's chin quivered as he stepped forward and took charge.
"The fires – they've… stopped burning, sir! In the last few minutes…, the werewolf and his minions…have broken into the town!" The Captain wheezed. "Several of the citizen's militia, with Mr Taylor in charge…, are down – but we've got the brutes contained for now to the area outside the Magistrate's Court…"
"How dare they…? That's my patch!" Kroft grimaced, and pulled out from a pocket of his coat what looked to be a hammer with a silver-gilded head. "Let's hit them hard!"
The rest of the group agreed, and between them they made a rudimentary plan.
Katarina began to feel restless. The dimly-remembered visions she had seen when she had been in the chamber of skulls at the Abandoned Keep, were – despite her attempts to prevent them – still largely turning into reality…
With the aid of Darcius and that playwright, I was able to save Doctor Manning from death…, she considered. And Darcius is still with me… I was afraid he would die, after that fight in the church…
The outlaw took off her tricorn hat and wiped her brow. She was feeling warm after her exertions. But that scratch she received when the Gargoyle had seized the lycanthropic Manning and knocked her aside…, it was itching again now. More so than earlier…
No…! Oh, nooooo…
The Scarlet Shadow looked keenly at her. "Are you all right, Katarina?" he asked softly, as he drew closer to her.
Katarina's head began to swim. "I need…to rest, Darcius. You… I want you to stay with me…"
"Why? What is it?"
"Darcius… I did not tell you earlier – because I did not want you to worry. I had visions back at the keep, as you know…" Katarina's throat bobbed. "But one vision I kept to myself…was the sight of you dying…"
He raised his eyebrows. "Dying…? Where? When? How?"
"Don't ask me, Darcius!" Katarina looked him in the eyes, as she held his cheek with her free hand. "That's why I made love to you last night. Because I feared that it would be the last time that we…"
The Scarlet Shadow grabbed her hand and held it tight. "Do you trust me, Katarina?"
"What? Of course I do, Darcius! We have been together for several years now…"
"Then trust me, and follow my instructions, my sweet. That way, neither of us will come to grief. We will be together for many more years to come." His eyes shone at her.
Then Lord Hanbrook called for their attention – and Katarina's mind was turned away from the nagging itch that she could just still feel…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Magistrate's Office:
After several minutes of shooting and too-close-for-comfort fighting, the Feral Kin suddenly retreated at the sound of Major Bruckner's howl, as he disappeared into the Magistrate's Office. The lupine minions then sprinted into the building themselves, leaving behind a couple of their dead kindred, and some wounded citizen's militia. A few soldiers attended to them – fearful that the wounded would turn into more of the Feral Kin. Whilst the rest of the militia were ordered by Kroft to surround the court building.
Katarina was mollified by the fact that she couldn't see any young or adolescents amongst the wolf-creatures. Jack was somewhere else, then. Hopefully still alive…
"Perhaps… Perhaps I should hold command of the men here – in case Bruckner or his creatures escape," Kroft suggested.
Lord Hancroft and Katarina gave the magistrate dubious looks. But his lordship nodded.
"Stay here, then – Tiberius. The rest of you – follow me!" he commanded the two outlaws, Cooke, and Allardyce.
Katarina felt a snarl form on her lips as she glared at the building, remembering the time, years ago when she had been captured once – as a young pickpocket - and brought to the same court. She had been forced to attend a workhouse for her sentence – which she later managed to escape, before joining Darcius's gang of outlaws. "I hate this place," she spat.
"That goes for me, too," the Scarlet Shadow agreed, tightening his grip on his rapier. "But enter we must!"
The group of five entered the building, checking the side corridors first – which were clear. And so, they opened the door leading into the courtroom and walked in. Katarina's senses were tingling. The few-remaining Feral Kin were standing in various places around the courtroom, growling lowly – but making no move to attack them.
"Something's not right…!" Katarina hissed. "Even the lamps are on – as if for our benefit."
"I concur, Miss Clark," Cooke whispered back. "They are trapped within this building – but are not acting like cornered animals…"
The Inspector was interrupted by a loud snigger. "My reinforcements and I welcome you…!" the voice half-growled.
The large werewolf that was Major Bruckner sat in the magistrate's chair at the far end of the courtroom. He gave them a mocking, lupine grin. One clawed hand was fondly stroking the thin cat on top of the desk before him, whilst Solomon himself turned round and directed his unnerving gaze towards the humans who had just entered.
Lord Hanbrook stepped forward and directed his pistol towards Bruckner. "You and your hated sister will plague this town no more, Major!"
Bruckner waved his hand at the cat. "Solomon…!"
The cat tensed his body, and then leapt towards the arrivals, landing on the floor before them. He bared his fangs and hissed.
Hanbrook frowned – then redirected his gaze back to the seated Major Bruckner. He pulled the trigger – then yelled in shock and pain as the gun misfired in his hand. Cooke quickly grabbed hold of the injured man.
"Witchcraft…!" Cooke spat.
"Of course, Inspector. Solomon has a magical aura of misfortune, which he is able to direct upon those who we desire," Bruckner snarled with relish. His yellow eyes flicked to the large skylight set in the roof of the courtroom. "And now it is time for you realize the truth…"
Cooke followed the Major's gaze, seeing that the full moon was emerging from a cloud. "The truth…?" he dared to ask.
There was another snigger from Bruckner. "Did you really think that we were the ones who were trapped?"
Katarina's eyes were fixed on the moon. It suddenly looked beautiful to her, and it was calling to her in some way – filling her with energy, offering her freedom from all of her struggles and worries. Freedom from everything – including adhering to society and humanity itself…
It was also making her feel feverish. Her itch was reasserting itself – more strongly than ever before. Her bones ached, and she felt as though she was burning up…
With a cry of horror, Katarina dropped her pistol and crossbow – startling the men with her – and unbuttoned her shirt with shaking fingers that were beginning to ache. Katarina then exposed the skin below her brassiere…, and screamed.
From the epicenter of her scratch mark, myriad hairs were emerging from her skin and expanding to cover her belly in a matter of seconds with a layer of…fur. Yes, fur. Even as she stared at her contorting fingers, Katarina felt her bones crunch – not just in her hands, but all throughout her changing skeleton. Her clothes now seemed too tight on her twisting frame – and her now-longer tongue tasted blood in her mouth from her bleeding gums.
Lord Hanbrook and Sergeant Allardyce drew in their breaths sharply, as they saw what was happening.
"Miss Clark – that scratch you received when we were tracking down Manning!" Cooke exclaimed. "It appears that it wasn't the claws of the Gargoyle that struck you. It was..."
"…the infected Doctor Manning! And his spit entered the wound, too. No!" Katarina whispered, frozen to the spot by her metamorphosis. Then, with a loud cry, she fell upon her knees – struck down by another wave of agony from the transformation. Then - hearing the ripping of cloth that was not on her – the female outlaw turned to face the Scarlet Shadow.
"Darcius…? NO! NO!" she screamed.
The outlaw leader threw his rapier to one side, away from the other men – who were now raising their remaining pistols towards him. The Scarlet Shadow tore away his red face mask, to reveal the dark stubble that was growing into facial fur. Underneath his tearing clothes, his body was twisting, changing in a similar way to Katarina. But he did not seem to be in pain. Instead, Darcius Redfern smiled triumphantly – exposing his lengthening canine teeth. A green glow began to appear around his body – encouraging the transformation. He laughed. Mockingly.
"That glow! It's her! The Shadow Witch!" Lord Hanbrook shrieked.
"Correct, George Hanbrook. I was able to turn one of my Feral Kin into a fully-fledged werewolf – and she scratched and knocked out this outlaw. That act allowed me, in turn, to possess him," the Shadow Witch declared in the voice of her host. The eyes, now turning yellow, switched their attention to Katarina. "But the infection of this body had already started before then, Miss Clark! Thanks to you – making love to your man, after you had been infected with the curse of the werewolf. Now you belong to me, also! Come, give in to your growing beast – and we will make the people who oppressed you and Darcius Redfern pay. All three of us share a hatred for this place! And yet that makes it so perfect to be where the pathetic lawmakers of this town will pay for what they have done to us!" The 'Scarlet Shadow Witch' grinned, exposed teeth that were visibly changing into fangs before Katarina's eyes.
"Miss Clark – do not lose your humanity! Remember who you are! This witch is a murderer and a puppet master," Cooke's voice reached Katarina's ears, even as they started to change and become pointed. Her tricorn hat fell from her head.
"Kill the three men!" Major Bruckner snarled at the Feral Kin. And so the attack began – forcing Cooke, Allardyce, and Lord Hanbrook away from Katarina and the possessed Scarlet Shadow, as the lupine creatures howled and bounded over the wooden benches towards them. Cooke tried to look for Solomon – but already the cat was running away from the melee, slipping in-between the panels, to rejoin Bruckner. He aimed and fired – but the gun refused to fire.
Blasted jinx cat! At least my pistol didn't misfire, I suppose…
"Take cover!" he yelled.
Changing tactics, Cooke used his pistol as a makeshift club instead – and succeeded in knocking out the Feral Kin that was about to claw his face. Then he bounded across the room to where the rapier had been thrown, and dived to the floor, avoiding another attack.
"If I could just reach…," he grunted as he strained his outstretched arm in order to grab the blade. "Uhhh…! Got it!"
Shooting upright, Inspector Cooke turned and rammed the rogue's rapier into the chest of the Feral Kin that had sprung back up to attack him. The wolf man shuddered, whimpered, and then turned limp. As Cooke yanked the blade back out, the Feral Kin collapsed and breathed its last.
Panting heavily, the disheveled Inspector hurried over to join his nearby sergeant and Lord Hanbrook, to help defend them from the remaining Feral Kin…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Close by, Katarina gripped the side of the jurors' bench in order to pull herself up from the floor - only to discover that her fingernails had turned into claws. Claws that were digging into the woodwork. Her body was trembling violently now, and it was taking a huge effort of will to control herself, as she gasped and whimpered from the agony of the transformation sweeping through her entire being. Katarina's half-lupine ears twitched at the noise from the nearby fighting. She heard the madly-thumping heartbeats of the Feral Kin and the human combatants. Smelt with her darkening, leathery nose the delicious scent of…fear? Yes, fear. Being emitted from the three men who were fighting for their very lives. She began to drool as she wondered what their furless flesh and vital organs would taste like – and how warm and satisfying their blood would be…
Katarina wailed in despair. Then her attention was diverted by the tearing of her gray pants. She had already removed her uncomfortable, constraining shoes, allowing her clawed feet to shift into a wolf-like form. Meanwhile, her bosom was shrinking – but her furred chest was turning broader and muscular, like a wolf's. Strength was building up in all of her changing muscles, and indeed in every part of her – making her leaner, more powerful. Soon she would become a fine huntress, a voice in her head told her.
A musky scent drew right up to her, making the emerging whiskers around her mouth quiver. Turning her head to the right, she saw the Scarlet Shadow hurriedly taking off and casting aside his coat, even as his other clothes tore apart – mirroring her like two ghastly caterpillars breaking free of their cocoons. A hairy tail now snaked out from the rear of the emergent wolf man. His head and face now fully lupine, the Scarlet Shadow grinned with his grown fangs and bent forward, reaching out with the claws of his paw-like hand to hold Katarina's chin so that she was forced to look at him.
Dear god… Darcius looks so strong, so desirable, the wild thoughts filled Katarina's numbed mind. He smells sooo good, too…
"The pain will soon disappear…if you just give in, my sweet," Darcius – or rather the spirit possessing him, declared with a growl of relish. "Pledge yourself to me…, and I will make you the most senior in our pack…, after Lucian and his Feral Kin bitch, of course. And you will be re-united with Jack, once more. Shadowbrook will…be ours!"
The pain at the base of her spine was too much. Katarina yanked off her belt and pulled down the torn remains of her pants with her claws, freeing her growing furry tail and allowing it to twitch from side to side. Then she cried out as the pressure in her skull built up to an unbearable level. Her nose and mouth began to pull forward to form her new muzzle, thankfully lessening the pain in the process.
Amongst the agony and the overpowering sensations and noise around her that were making it hard to think clearly, Katarina remembered that her outlaw gang – the nearest thing she ever had to a functional family - was now gone. Her comrades having been turned into statues or Feral Kin – or into dead meat…
"Give in…," she repeated the words of the 'Scarlet Shadow Witch'. "Kill the not-kindred… The humans… Make the elders pay for hanging the Mistress. Yes… NO!" she huffed, her voice turning animal-like as she spoke. "I am Katarina…Clark – and I want…Darcius back. Give him to me, you witch!"
The wolf man that had been the Scarlet Shadow laughed. "Your Darcius Redfern now serves me! Join us, Katarina… And he – I – will provide all the love that you could want!" The spirit of Elaine Bartlett declared through the dark lips of her unwilling host.
The thought made Katarina shudder. From what she had learned of Bartlett – from various sources – the woman had been spiteful in life, responsible for so many deaths. Including her own husband, who had been known to be a kind-hearted man. Had Bartlett ever truly loved anyone, apart from her brute of a brother? As well as that wretched cat?
The female outlaw felt her mind slipping, along with her will to hold back the transformation. Soon she would become a vicious wolf woman – and another pawn in Bartlett's quest for power and vengeance…
A wild idea flashed into her head. Katarina dived upon the possessed Scarlet Shadow, startling the controlling spirit of Elaine Bartlett – and she began to kiss Darcius's furry cheeks and wet nose. Soon Katarina's muzzle grew fully into place, making kissing with her lips impossible to continue. Instead, she began rubbing her black nose and her own now-furred cheeks against Darcius's face, mixing their scents. The spirit of Elaine Bartlett thrashed against her, snarling in protest at what Katarina was trying to achieve…
"Ddarciuss," Katarina growled. "Come bback to meee…!"
"Nooo! Release me…!" Before Katarina's gaze, the wolf man's eyes flashed an angry yellow. Then, as his struggling lessened, the same eyes turned a human brown again. Into Darcius's brown hues. "K-Katarina…," he croaked, before growling his next words. "I can't hhold Bartlett back…for llong! She ttook advantage of my…bbroken will… My gguilt over killing an innocent mman tonight… Kill me!"
"Ddarciuss…! Nno – I cannot…!"
"You musst! I love you… Use yyour love ffor me…to ffocus your will…to release mmee," the Scarlet Shadow pleaded to her. "Q-quickly…!" he snarled.
The eyes before her were already developing flecks of yellow. Katarina whined – and then summoned up what human spirit that she had left. Abruptly, she dived to one side and picked up one of her discarded shoes. To her relief, her stunted fingers were just able to grip the…
The wolf man bolted up and seized the other one of Katarina's now-russet furred arms. "Drop your weapon, my sweet!" Elaine Bartlett growled through the mouth of the possessed Darcius Redfern. "There is no point in knocking me out! Join me!"
"Nnever…!" Katarina snarled. And with that, she pulled out the short blade inside underneath the sole, turned, and she rammed it into the throat of the wolf man with her remaining strength of will.
Elaine Bartlett stared back at her with shock and horror through the animal eyes of her host. The paw released Katarina and tried to stem the flow of blood. But the female outlaw snarled out her hatred, and punched the wolf man to the floor – before yanking out the blade once more. Then, howling in her grief and fury, she stabbed him in the heart.
The wolf man spluttered blood, wheezing his last breath. But as Darcius Redfern died on the floor of the Magistrate's Court, the green glow of the Shadow Witch's hateful spirit departed the body and floated across the chamber to merge once more with Solomon the cat, who was now sat on top of the judge's chair. His hiss of fury was drowned out by the anguished howling of the newborn werewolf who was mourning the loss of her friend and lover…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Inspector Cooke was bleeding from a cut to his chest from the latest Feral Kin before him. He had dived into its path, to protect the injured Lord Hanbrook who had retreated into the makeshift safety of the defendant's dock.
All of the pistols they, and Sergeant Allardyce, had been carrying were now all empty.
As Cooke staggered and dropped the Scarlet Shadow's rapier, the Inspector leaned against the wooden panels behind him, whilst the male Feral Kin greedily licked his dark lips, savoring the human's fear and weakness in the moments before the kill.
Then came the howl of despair.
Everyone quickly darted their gaze towards the deafening noise, which cut through the souls of the remaining fighters. From his angle, Cooke saw Katarina rise from where she had just fatally stabbed the newborn werewolf that had been the Scarlet Shadow. The blood-dripping blade fell from her half-paws, and the female outlaw drew in deep gulps of air to steady her trembling form as her transformation completed itself. With a final grasp and tear, Katarina pulled and shook off the last of her human clothing, to reveal the fully-fledged, russet-furred wolf woman that she now was. Meanwhile, the shaken Inspector Cooke spied the green glow that had drifted from the fallen Scarlet Shadow, and followed it with his eyes as it vanished into the hissing, spitting, thin cat perched on the judge's seat.
In the next instant, the newest werewolf in the court room turned to face Inspector Cooke and Lord Hanbrook. She snarled, and bolted straight towards them, infectious spittle flying from her gaping jaws. No doubt to join in the ghastly banquet to come, Cooke thought morbidly.
This is the end, then…
Cooke felt a stab of grief for still not being reconciled with his family, after his choice of career – which was at odds with the crop farming that his parents wanted him to take up, following in their path. He felt shame too, for ultimately failing in his duty to protect the townsfolk of Shadowbrook…
Cooke's closed eyes shot open again as he heard the male Feral Kin's scream. Blood from the stooped wolf man splashed onto Cooke's face, as he saw Katarina Clark dive upon the Feral Kin and sink her new fangs into his throat, whilst she sliced at his chest with her claws.
"Lexington!" The howl came from the pale-furred werewolf that was Major Bruckner. His jaws were dripping blood and gore as he raised his furry face from the remains of Sergeant Allardyce's neck…
Bile rose in Cooke's throat at seeing the loss of his trusted aide. He had known Allardyce for only a year, but the bullish man had proved himself to be capable and decent. And now he was gone.
With the Feral Kin that was Lexington dying from blood loss at her balled feet, Katarina growled – and sprinted towards Bruckner. The lycanthropic Major's wide-eyed expression of shock at being attacked by one of his own kind turned to wild fury.
For several moments, Cooke was too stunned to react. Then, as he saw the two wolf people clash and crash their way through the wooden fittings around them, wrecking the court, Cooke's mind snapped back to attention – and he helped to treat his lordship's wound.
Scant seconds later, the double doors to the court room – which Cooke had shut to behind his party as they had entered – burst open again. Magistrate Kroft strode in, his jacket flapping as he moved purposefully. Several of the citizen's militia, hastily-formed earlier in the day by Cooke, Katarina, and the Scarlet Shadow, accompanied the magistrate. They all suddenly halted, seeing the spectacle before them.
Major Bruckner and Katarina were furiously slashing and biting at each other, next to one of the windows. There was a momentarily lull in the fighting as the two werewolves crashed into the judge's bench and Katarina rolled away to avoid having her throat being ripped out – and in that calm of the storm Bruckner, as well as Cooke, looked around and realized that all of the Feral Kin in the chamber were now dead. Bellowing his rage, Bruckner turned and gave Solomon a meaningful look, before diving for cover. In response, there was a brief glow of magik emitted by the scrawny cat. An instant later, the window exploded – showering the howling Katarina with glass shards.
Then the image of Solomon blurred and vanished.
"My court room! You…you…animals!" Kroft squealed. He turned to the men with him, their improvised weapons at the ready. "Kill these werewolves, this ins-!"
"No!" Cooke yelled out. "The red-furred one saved us! Kill only Bruckner!"
"A werewolf…hero!?" As Kroft stared back at the Inspector in disbelief, the pale-furred Major Bruckner snarled, and took a running leap for the shattered glass in the window frame – and landed on the street outside. The guards still posted outside screamed their terror. There was the noise of someone meeting their ghastly end.
Then Katarina pulled herself upright with the aid of the wrecked wooden bench besides her, and yanked out the glass embedded in her furred flesh. Before the wide-eyed gazes of Cooke, Lord Hanbrook, Magistrate Kroft, and the citizen's militia, Katarina's wounds stopped bleeding. Giving Cooke a look that seemed to convey sorrow, and anguish, the wolf woman turned sharply towards the broken window, snarled, and then took a running leap for the window herself – clearly set on chasing Bruckner. Her lean form sailed through the gap.
Cooke rushed to the window, his shoes crunching on the broken glass on the floor underneath him. He was in time to see Bruckner rise up from the twitching body of a man whose neck artery he had just slashed open…
The lycanthropic Major curled his blood-drenched dark lips at both Katarina and Cooke – then he bolted away on his balled feet out of town, heading east past the now-demolished barrier and the site of the extinguished cordon of flames. Katarina sprung up from her curled position on the street where she had landed and rolled, and snarled at the men who were taking a step towards her with their torches tilted in her direction. As they backed off, Katarina promptly ran through the cleared gap in their ranks – taking up the chase as she raced after the now-departed Major Bruckner.
"They are heading for the covered bridge. We should hunt Bruckner down – and end this!" Kroft seethed.
"No, Tiberius," Lord Hanbrook wheezed as he stood next to Cooke, pressing one hand against his wound. "Let the werewolves fight…between themselves! First of all, we should…attend to the wounded – and the dead. I am…too exhausted to go on. And I must ensure that Lucy…and my wife are safe, also."
"Yes, I concur, your lordship…," Cooke declared flatly, panting for breath and feeling suddenly drained now that the immediate danger had passed. He turned and walked over to where Sergeant Allardyce lay sprawled over the courtroom floor. With a shaking hand, he reached out as he bent down and closed the man's wide, unseeing eyes.
"I too…am unable to go on, right now," he muttered darkly to the grim-looking Magistrate Kroft and Lord Hanbrook.