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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Dark · #1459723
Do the means to revenge justify the end? Can a werewolf be good at heart?
”That can’t be true, though!”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but you can’t change fate.” The old woman sounded gleeful.

“Thomas! No! He couldn’t! He wouldn’t!”

“You asked me to read the stars, and read them I did. You can’t change fate.”

“Come, Rachel. Let’s leave this lady in peace.”

“But Jenny!”

“We can stop him, Rachel. I won’t let it happen to him. I won’t let him do it to himself.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”




Three years later


The musky scent of the underground passage enthralled Thomas, tendrils of overpowering aroma drifting through his mind, clogging his senses. He didn’t care. Let the fragrance do what it wanted to him; soon, he would be beyond all human weaknesses. Soon, he would have the strength to do what was necessary.

The torches flickered weakly as he passed them, their iron brackets rusted with age. It had been long since a human had been this deep into the Catacombs, but Thomas was breaking new ground with his thoughts alone. A wicked smile crept across his features, and a small shiver passed through his body in anticipation.

They would pay. They would all pay.

The tunnel was growing wider, the naked dirt walls and floor replaced with roughly hewn stone blocks. So near. So close. Nothing could stop him now, nothing could hold him back from his imminent reincarnation. Footsteps sounded behind him. With a start, Thomas picked up his pace, tattered clothing hanging loosely from his quickly moving body.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Jenny picked her way carefully down the forbidding corridor of bare earth, trying desperately not to fall behind her boyfriend. He was moving too fast, his ravaged mind unable to think of anything but his goal. She had to stop him. She had to.

She caught sight of a shadow darting around a corner just before her, and she forced her legs to move faster, almost tripping at the sudden change from dirt to stone. Perhaps she was nearing something more civilized now. Doubtful. That horrid, overpowering scent dominating her senses smelled like nothing she had ever heard of before. Did Thomas know what he was getting himself into?

Her heartbeat sounded loud in the silence of the caves, and she desperately thought of something besides her surrounding, hoping that everything would turn out alright. Her mind darted to what had begun this turn of events.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

“Stop! Please!” Jenny’s pleas were useless. The three men paid no mind to her cries as they grinned wickedly at the little girl huddled in the corner, shivering from cold, shaking from fear. One drew a curved knife, stroking it gently with his finger. The girl screamed.

Jenny struggled unsuccessfully with her bonds, uselessly trying to escape from the robes that bound her to a railing inside the Harpin Manor. Thomas himself writhed beside her, snarling at the men, his face contorted with loathing. That these men would come into his manor and do this to his sister… Jenny could see why such anger coursed through him.

The man with the knife, obviously the leader of the three, came closer to Rachel Harpin as she drew her knees in closer, trying to block out the sight of the large man. Only eight, Thomas’s sister was beyond screaming now. The fear that had possession of her body was a terror Jenny could only imagine.

The two cronies snickered as their leader raised the knife above his head. Finally, Rachel managed a scream, shrill and hollow, a haunting sound, the sound of a person on the brink of sanity. Thunder cracked outside, and a flash of lightning glinted off the slashing blade. Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to look upon the gruesome scene. She could not block out the shrill scream, however. It pierced deep within her, encircling her soul, coaxing the horror she was hiding to come forth. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her scream joined Rachel’s, and she hardly noticed when the latter’s was cut short.

After what seemed like hours, Jenny’s breath ran out, and she was forced to open her eyes. The men were gone, and the ropes around her were cut. Slowly, fearfully, she dragged her eyes to the corner where Rachel had been. Thomas was kneeling on the stone, arms wrapped around a lifeless figure, a dark liquid seeping out from between his knees.

Jenny felt tears pour down her cheeks as she dashed to Thomas’s side, seeking words to console him, but finding none. Thunder rolled across the sky once more, and Jenny closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories of what had just happened. Useless. They washed over her, and she collapsed, sobbing.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Thomas Harpin strode down through the still widening hall, his mind focused on one thing, and one thing only. The chamber at the end of this tunnel, and what was hidden there. He smiled, unaware of what he was doing. He had heard legends of this place, but he had never paid much heed until he needed to. Until he had began seeking a means for revenge on the men who took his sister. Then the legends had started to sound very appealing.

A place of evil, one man had said. A place of wonder, said another. No matter. Whichever it was, it was irrelevant. It had what he needed. And what he would have. Revenge!

Something glinted at the far end of the corridor. Thomas’s eyes widened, his heartbeat racing. He was close. Oh, so close!

As he drew nearer, the glint transformed into a wide gate of iron, carved with twisted figures, engravings that wrenched the rich man’s eye. The door seemed well polished, and showed none of the rust so apparent on the brackets in the walls around it.

Thomas paused only a moment to wonder at the fantastic creatures etched into the metal, gazed only seconds upon the evil that had fashioned the gate, before grasping the large handle and swinging it open. He smiled, and stepped through.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Jenny’s mind raced. Thomas was pulling too far ahead. She was in danger of losing him in the many turns and twists of the Catacombs beneath London. Shaking her hear, she forsook all dignity and dashed after him, frantically trying to keep pace.

Her boyfriend’s footsteps were dying; his legs were longer by far. With a cry of desperation, she darted about a corner, and froze. There, at the end of the hallway, was a great gate of iron, at least five feet wide and no less than fifteen feet tall.
The door was moving, she realized. Closing. “Thomas!” she shouted, but he was gone. Sighing heavily, she slowed down her pace and cautiously neared the gate. She tried not to look at the dark beasts and evil writing so plainly symbolized in the iron, but they called to her.

Reluctantly, she looked down, at one in particular. A wolf, but not a wolf. A wolf with human eyes, and standing upon two legs. Come to me, it whispered. Jenny shook her head. “I cannot,” she told the door. You do not have a choice. Jenny’s breath grew ragged. She could not tear her eyes away. The wolf’s eyes began to glow. It is fate. You cannot escape fate. The eyes were a bright red. Jenny stepped backwards, and her heel caught a fold in the stone. She stumbled and fell to the ground. When she looked up, the spell was broken.

Realization of what had just happened shot through Jenny, and she felt tempted to run right there, but she forced herself not to. She was here for Thomas, and she would not leave without him. With a deep breath, she reached for the iron handle on the door, swinging it open. She took a deep breath, and stepped through.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Thomas was in a vast chamber. A high arching ceiling soared above him, and two lines of pillars ran off to the far end of the hall on either side of him. Shadows surrounded pillars. At least, they looked like shadows at first.

Thomas looked closer, and jumped when one moved. They were hooded creatures, men perhaps, standing near motionless, forming a line on both sides of the gate that trailed away down the hall. Thomas tried not to stare, but he could only wonder what they were doing here.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short when every single man, as if on queue, turned and pointed to the far end of the hall. Nodding and swallowing, Thomas strode forward, his eyes alighting on the far wall.

A window sat, high on the wall, somehow portraying a view of the night sky, deep underground though they were. But that was not what caught Thomas’s attention.  Below the window was an altar, a slab of stone, and upon it lay a dead wolf. Thomas felt his mind go numb at the sight of its bleeding body, and he wanted nothing more than to touch it. A slight smile leaped up upon his features, and he lifted a hand, walking toward the altar.

Behind him, the door opened again.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Jenny slammed the gate shut behind her, gaze fixed on Thomas. “Thomas, my love, no!”

A desperate cry shot from her lips, and Thomas whirled about, his eyes wild. “Don’t try to stop me, Jenny!”

She ran towards him. “No Thomas!”

“Stop!” He cried out, halting her in her tracks. “Take another step, and I will do it. I know what I’m doing!”

“No! No you don’t, Thomas!” Jenny took a single step toward him, and his face hardened. She didn’t give him the chance to speak, however. “You are not yourself, my love!”

“I have to do it, Jenny. Don’t you see that?” Thomas’s face began to lose its edge. “They took her from me!”

“I know they did, but that is not a reason to destroy yourself!” Jenny heard a growl from behind her, but it did not register. She was completely focused on Thomas.

“I’m not, my love. I’m perfecting myself.” Thomas a strange glint in his eyes, now.

“No! You don’t have to do this! There are other ways!”

Rage contorted Thomas’s face. “They took her from me! Stole her!” The anger disappeared, replaced so suddenly by anguish that Jenny was not sure if she had imagined the rage. “She was my dearest. They have to pay.” A single tear slid down Thomas’s cheek, and he had a far-off look. “Why can’t you, of all people, understand that?”

Her heart went out to him, and she leaped forward, wrapping him in a strong embrace. She whipped away his tear, murmuring in his ear. “Let us go, my love. Let us go.”

Abruptly, Thomas pulled back, sorrow gone from his face. “It’s too late for that, my love. They are waiting. I can’t turn back now.”

“Who? Who is wai-…” the snarl behind Jenny suddenly clicked, and she whirled about. Over one hundred men were arranged in a semi-circle behind the two, hooded and robed. But though their faces were hidden in shadow, Jenny sensed that their eyes were locked on Thomas, and the small window above the altar.”No. No!” She knew her mistake for following Thomas, saw her imminent death in those dark cowls. Whirling about, she reached for Thomas, but it was too late.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Thomas stretched forth his hand, and placed it on the fur of the wolf, stroking. He felt a shiver of excitement run through his body, a sense of satisfaction. Smiling, he placed both hands on the warm fur, and lowered his head to the pool of blood below the body.

His tongue slowly reached out, painstakingly stretching, until the very tip made contact with the metallic liquid. A shock coursed through Thomas, and his body was flung back. His head hit the ground with a sickening crunch, but he was oblivious.
He felt warm. Very warm. But slowly, a wave of coolness drifted through him, cleansing him. As soon as it passed out of his toes, the pain hit.

It was a pain unlike any he had ever imagined. Agony exploded from every nerve in his body, flowers of red blooming in his mind. He felt like his body was being torn apart, fiber by fiber, ripped and shredded. His back arched high above the stones, and his body thrashed about, arms flailing. It seemed to last an eternity, that torture, but when it faded, he felt a wondrous feeling.

He felt renewed, unmade and remade. He felt powerful. He felt his senses become stronger, more keen, more acute.

He felt, like a wolf.

                        *                        *                        *                        *

Jenny forced herself not too move as Thomas clambered to his feet. She dimly remembered herself being held back by one of the men as Thomas thrashed about on the ground, but he had let her go as soon as Thomas grew still again.

She warily looked into his eyes as he faced her, and she gasped. They were yellow, shining though there was no light, and full of hatred. For her. Or was it for humanity in general. She stepped back as he drew closer to her.

“Are you afraid, my love?” His voice was soft and smooth, almost a purr.

“Get away from me Thomas. What have you done?” Jenny watched him, horrified. “Is this what Rachel would have wanted?”

“I can avenge her now, my sweet.” His voice was seductively cool.

She shook her head. “No. No! You fool!” He reached for her, and a hundred things happened at once.

She slapped his hand away, and anger blazed in his eyes.

A ray of moonlight shone through the window above the altar.

The body of the wolf erupted in flames, and a howl ripped through the air.

Thomas was flung back by a wave of energy. He screamed the scream of a dead man, and he dropped to all fours.

There was movement in the men behind Jenny, and they began moan, crying out softly.

Jenny’s eyes widened, and she dashed for the door, pursued by Thomas’s cries. Shoving aside hooded men, she broke free of the crowd and slammed into the gate, only to find it locked. Suddenly, all was silent behind her. Fearfully, she turned her head.

At least a hundred wolves crouched together in a mob, and behind them all sat one, alone. Thomas. Jenny screamed in horror.

Then, as one, the wolves moved toward her, Thomas leaping through them to gain the lead. She looked at him, horrified, and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were human, full of pain, and sorrow, and evil. Just like the wolf on the gate. Jenny stepped backward, her back striking iron.

Thomas gathered himself, then sprung forward, jaws closing around her neck. Just before they sunk in, though, a single thought raced through her mind.

I’m sorry, Rachel. I failed you. The stars never lie. You can’t change destiny. I’m sorry.
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