Chapter 1. First blood.

Chapter 1. First blood.


Shrouded mists breached the still air of night, the lurching embankment of the fog creeped its way over the darkened woodlands that enchanted the great valleys over head. Lush fresh pine stood under the great oaks of ancient times, the smells of clean air, brought on, solely by that of incredulous forests rang over the senses of any that stood within its entombment of bark. The gentle cracks and scuttles of creatures that had delved into the night echoed over the bleakness of dead air, bringing their haunted scene over the land, clouded in mists.

Gentle pads of soft leather shoes winded their way over the ground, the loose dark cloth that endorsed the body of the man who almost glided through the forest rippled in his movements. Silver white of his belt casting its own glistening light, reflecting the silver outlays of gracious lights from above. Taught grip over a long staff lay within his right hand, black enameled form decorated with the silver twists of ancient symbols. Six feet in length, when upright, the great wooden pole almost reaching his own full stature. The peak at one end completely embedded with silver, coming to a sharp spike the glistened into the night air off a great full moon. Silver hair cascading down to reach his shoulders, flowing gently behind his form as he moved gracefully through the lower valley's forest. Dark blue hues scanning over the land as audits searched the surroundings for any sound. Features emotionless as he moved, intent directly covering the grounds ahead in want, in wait for the challenge he had been chasing. Hunting over this vast land behind his own self.


The night of the full moon had ached the mans existence once more, the great clouds overhead shrouding its wanting stare. Fear spreading over his mind as he fondled his way through the dense brush that lay around him. Bare in skin, mere scraps of clothing remained over his body, torn and shredded from the nights en-devour. Collapsing once more on the cold harshness of the ground, he groaned a pain of sorrow and wither for his own life, for this night to end. Struggling to pull himself free from the ground, his bleeding fingers clawing at the sodden earth below. Breathes barely finding his lungs, the struggle to gasp in the air around him becoming a greater challenge with each attempt.

The sudden pain that erupted through his body brought an unnatural contortion over his slim form. Thin limbs dangled in ghastly positions, as he writhed over the ground below, striking his body into tree and bush, forcing his form to shift in random spasms of uncontrolled pain. The cause of his of his sudden outburst of pain became clear within the gaze of anyone or any creature who may have been within the area. The glistening light of that enchanted full moon ruptured through the canopy, streaking over the silver mists to illuminate the entire area. The night of the werewolf had once again opened up and the transfiguration stripping the man of his own flesh continued.


The great screams of pain had alerted his attention, clarity finding its way into the calm figure as he pressed his heels to the ground, leaping gracefully over the brush below. Staff in hand shifting, its momentum bringing the fluidity of it behind his arm to lay, flat pressed over his back, spear like point of silver cast downwards as he darted in great waves of movement through the forest, moving swiftly to the call of agonizing screams. The snapping of branches that snagged his loose cloth brought slight irritation to his own form, sudden flares of near invisible wood caught his features and bare, muscular frame causing trickles of bright red blood to pour gentle droplets from each en-snarement. Lips parting, teeth gritting outwardly as he pressed on in the driven search for his target, the beast to be hunted, to be killed was his passion, his need for existence.


Long black hairs tore their way through his skin, thick and course, droplets of blood fell from their outburst, coming over his limbs at first. The agonizing pain that ruptured his form brought great shreaks of pain, echoes finding their own echo within the great forest, birds scattering away from the horrible sounds, escaping their plight after being awakened by such an unruly disturbance. The deer that had stalked their way into the woodlands bolted into the night air, fearful for their own safety.

Convulsions ripping hands and feet in awkward angles, nails that had grown in length tore chunks out of the bark and dirt around him. The hair that straggled its way through his skin finding its lie over the figure. Right hand suddenly finding its way to claw at his own chest, skin prying from his body, coming free under the longer, sharper nails that lifted their way onto his hands, each pull, tug of that skin brought sudden re-growth, each layer finding more hair, yet with each tare also found an un-earthly scream to follow it. The ground below him was broken in a stain of crimson as his blood poured openly from the wounds. Left hand had risen, to follow the right in its gruesome attack over his own flesh, eyes widening, their colour finding the loss of the once brown to reach a shaded yellow, pupils spilling upwards into narrow slits rather than their simple circle before.

The canines that rested in his mouth grew in length, finding his jaw coming wider as his screams grew ever louder. Patches of his own flesh littering the ground below, as scales shedded from a lizards back, his nature loosing all humanity, the feeling of his human hide seeming to burn at his own embodiment, the suffering prolonging his want to get rid of his own hide. Jaw line coming down to his shoulder, the contention of his clawing hands not enough, the newly grown fangs that endorned his mouth now ripped at his skin as well. The screams that continued with each mouthful of flesh had altered, seemingly random roars of fury accompanied them. Savage bloodlust scraped over his mouth as jaws snapped in the air before biting down once more at the slowly diminishing flesh.


The sounds he followed were changing, the painful screams coming free as the great bellows of the beast had started to erupt into existence, if he was to find and kill the man before he became the monster of a creature, he'd have to move quickly. The snagging vine like creeping plants however were slowing his progress. The groaning want for blood filling his own heart, eyes widened as he screamed out in a furious embattlement that followed the cries of pain, which now filled the land for miles. The feeling of his hunted presence was so near, so close, the smell of fresh blood coming to his senses. Calming want dissipated brought the mad fury of want for death, the great staff pulling around his toned body to lash out at the vines, scattering them away from his form. Driving his feet into the ground as he burst through the final for front of dense growth. The small clearing that he found his stance within showing a foul wretch of a smell as he witnessed the form that lay before him. His prey found at last, the senses coming over his own body once more as he eyed his target. The smile diminishing slowly however within seconds he found a cooling sensation running through him as he gazed at the now moving figure before him.

Great shadows arched over his own body, the mass of a creature, seven feet in full height stood before him, the haired claw ripping a final layer of skin from his now shaped muzzle. Pointed audits perked towards him as optics locked to the figure, narrowing in their lids. Blood dripping from its massive black figure. The pool of blood and skin that covered the floor sickening to his own stomache, almost freezing on the spot to which he stood. The great snarl that ripped over the lips of the beast brought the start of the sound, its noise louder than any scream, any cry out he had heard. The incredulous roar filled the valley as the monstrosity burst into life, the second of passing before it was ontop of the man. Only his natural insticts bringing the spear like headed weapon forward. The two coming to lock into one another in a clash the broke through the trees that lay behind the man.

Sharpened claws lashing at the smaller figure, teeth grasping to the mans shoulder as its vicious jaw ripped into the bone. The protruding silver tip of the spear seemed to bring little pain at first to the beast who had embedded itself over the weapon, time had stopped for the man, he had seen his life before him, had witnessed the exact reason for his now clear death and had angered in the fact he had fallen to the very beast he hunted. The pain that was inflicted within that spear clear now to the beast as it groaned in realisation. Its body arching back once more, in the great contortions that it had experienced only moments ago, his own breathing coming to gasps as the pain had vanished from the wounds. Only flashes between darkness came through, pictures of the beast, blood, skin of hide returning as the shedding of fur and hair filled the ground in a horrible mixture of coarse hair and thick blood. The final moments passing with the sounds of the screams leaving him, his blacking out and movement into death to follow that of the beast he had just killed undoubted.

Of course, it is said that all it takes is that of a bite, or scratch to turn a man into a beast. For the blood of the werewolf lives on, from one host to another, as with that blood, not wound of mortality may end, for only that of silver can truly finish those with the curse...