Chapter 2. The morning after.

Chapter 2. The morning after.



Golden sun, hope of light, filled the sky in rays of magnificence. The spring morning rising clean as birds sang through the valley in hope of the new days break. The mist of previous night had parted as the suns brilliance struck through, coming to rise all that was around in its arms of pleasuring warmth. Peace was all around the land but, within a single parting of the great forest that ran below. The center-fold of the valley, the heart of its magnitude. Where death of the previous night wrenched the air of its purity.


The single arm fired into the air as a great gasp for life filled the mans lungs. Scraping his form into a more upright position, heavy panting falling over his body as optics adjusted to the prevailing light of the new day. The sudden reek of death filled his nostrils bringing a shocked writhe of his form back from the place he had slept. Sliding over the harsh coverings of the ground, he soon caught the sight of the blood and flesh that had spilled over the ground ahead of himself. Ravens of darkness stabbing at the fleshy remains as rats scampered into view, carrying their own trophies of the ravage the night before. A few braver of the animals had already moved to the body of his hunted the previous night. Memories flooded back into mind as he saw the man before him, the chase, the battle, the death, his own seeming death.

Fear suddenly catching a hold of his mind, scowering his body, optics searching, scanning as he moved himself over, checking every inch of his form for marks, lesions, anything resembling what he had felt the night before. The cry that dragged its way from his lips was not of pain, nor worry but that of fear and fury. Anger spread within him, not a mark, not a trace of their encounter was left on his body, yet he remembered it, it was staring him right in the face as he sat there.

Birds and rats, insects and creatures leapt back from his great cry, yet moved back almost as quickly after it had passed, their eyes shifting to what the picked upon as well as his own form, he himself quivering in fury as he glared at all the life around the mess of death. The figure lifting his form from the ground, stumbling forward slightly once more, a scatter of animals around him spreading into the growth as he caught his footing again. The staff that had held within the fallen man, rising into the sky from its bloody grave was pulled from the corpse, sliding into his hand with a groan of sickening dislike. A daze running over his body, shifting weight to move away from the bloody scene he had awoken within, the man slumbered onwards, back in the direction he had previously come on his rampant charge through the night.


"Where the hell is he?"

The quiet, yet clearly urgent voice of the woman sprang into the air once more, as if her repetition of the same question had not happened a hundred times already.

"You know where he is Jade, I'm sure he'll be back soon, he's probably lounging around the forest, laughing in hysterics over his final kill."

A deeper voice followed the question, gruff in throat, clearly of an older man who had spent many a drunken night before this time.

"I do not know that for sure, he could be anywhere! In a ditch, lying dead for all I truly know!"

The sudden flair of the young woman as she turned to the man, whom sat slouched in a great chair, boots of hard leather strapped up to a table between them. Her slender hands coming to rest on curved hips, bright green eyes flashing in hostility to the man before her as dark hair cascading its way down her thin features to reach behind her small lined shoulder blades.

"Hah, relax dear child, you know what Cain is like, this was the one, the last one of the breed, of the curse. The last werewolf and he finally found it and has now, no doubt, killed it."

The grin that was held over the older mans features brought no apparent fear, large muscular, shoulders moved as he laughed once more, great hands resting over his slightly larger belly, one holding a great mug of old carved wood. The tough clothing he worn brought a harshness over his form, aged and tough, just as he himself appeared to be. Reddish hair, shortly cropped adorned his scalp as dark hazel eyes matched the piercing gaze of the young woman.

"Yes! The last one and because of the last one, instead of taking a gun, like any normal hunter. He decides he wants to kill it in the old traditional way! A God damn spear?! What was he thinking, what were you thinking for letting him?! You don't know what's happened to him and yet you lie back in your slobbish chair, laughing and drinking as if it's your damn birthday and he's just gone out to buy you a present! He's trying to kill a werewolf with a damn spear...A pointed stick for the love of..."

The woman's words trailed off once more as she calmed from her rant, turning back to the window which she had paced by all night. Chest heaving gently as she caught her breathe once more, arms slipping behind her, digits clasping to hold them in place as she watched the land away from her, waiting, hoping for the site of her brother.

"Jade, my daughter, so beautiful and so caring for your family. You and your brother have made an old man very proud these last few years, don't let your fear get the better of you now, he will return and tonight we can celebrate that the town is at last free from the curse of those creatures."

The old man took a great swig of his drink, bringing the mug down to the table with a mighty bang before rolling back into his sleep once more to doze comfortably. The girl turning to his words had returned her gaze once more out the window in desperate hope as fingers twirled idly over each other behind her back.


Breathing returning to the figure as he drove his way free from the brush that devoured all within that great forest. His vision blurred slightly with the passing of his movements, stumbling over rock and stone, finally breaching the boundaries that seemed to have taken his entire life to move through. The opening however had not brought pleasure to him, senses crazed from the air itself, audits picking up every micro-sound around him, smells of life and death, flowers and rivers from miles around him rushed his being. Legs barely able to hold his form as the figure toppled back slightly, stunned from the intensity of sensory perception he had never experienced before, overwhelming to his own thoughts, his mind not able to comprehend all that he was feeling. Staggering in his spot, great breathes heaved into his lungs as he tried to remain conscious, limbs below his form shaking with the struggle before the sound came to him. An enchanted echo filled his ears, blocking out all that was around him, features rising to gaze at the call of his sister as she had simply bolted from the doorway. Moving to him in a great canter.

"Cain! You're finally home, I've been worried out my mind!"

The girl was practically singing the words in joy as her flawless form shifted over the low grasslands between the outstretched building and the edge of woodlands where he stood. Driving the spear behind his own form, to push his body into a forward stance, only to stop himself from falling as the girl lunged at him. Her long delicate ams wrapping their way around his shoulders and neck as she planted a great kiss upon his cheek.

"You did it, I thought you were dead but here you are, you did it! You've saved us, cured us of the curse, you're a hero for our town Cain!"

The girls words were of little thanks to his own thoughts at hand, still overwhelmed by everything that was around him, the sound that came from her, the smell that risen over to him. The taste of her form that seemed to carry in the air melted over his tongue and lips, animal instincts were taking over his own clarity. The girl finally sliding gently free of his shoulders, taking his hand as she clearly took a flitting gaze at the silver point, seeing the obvious stains of blood only brought more joy to her skip as she dragged the man over the grasslands to their small house. Singing in her own manner, happiness being the only thing laying over her mind.

"We're free at last from the wolven curse, my brother, the one true hero has killed the last from the very first..."

Her words would have brought him laughter, joy had he not known the truth of the matter. Had he not known that he himself had not killed the last, for the last now was not of the body that lay in the great forest but, that of himself... To tell his family of what had happened was unspeakable, to live on, was out of the question, uncertainty, confusion, ran over his soul as he gazed blankly up at the sky, not searching for light of day but fearing the darkness of night, for when the night came, as it always did. When the full moon would rise, he to would find himself falling into the darkest despair of that curse and find himself taken by the bloody wolven curse...