[Short Story][Old] Werewolf Huntress

Discussion in 'Creative Writing, Graphics, Movies, etc.' started by Secksy, Jul 1, 2008.

  1. Secksy
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    Flags: Angst, Character Death, Tragedy, Romance

    The air was cold and humid, the way the air usually felt after it had finished raining. The smell of wet ground and plants invaded my nostrils and made me gag, I hate this type of weather. In fact, now that I think about it, I've never been to fond of nature to begin with. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for protecting forests and wildlife, but that doesn't mean I actually have to enjoy being out in it like I am now. But, more than anything, I'd rather it be hot and scorching than chilly and wet.

    My clothes were clinging to my body annoyingly, making me feel virtually naked. Every now and then I would grab the front of my shirt and tug it free of my chest but it wouldn't help much. I took in a big breath of air and stifled a sneeze, this type of weather also brought out the worst in my allergies. I had finally began to have enough with this blasted shirt as I tug it off body and throw it to the ground.

    I was in a forest near the village of Tersain. Most villagers avoided these woods because they are rumored to be haunted. It is said that a knight was murdered out here and that his spirit has never truly ever been able to find rest. While rare, a select few who venture out into these woods are never heard from again. hence the name “Deadwood Forest.” But I knew better than too believe rumors. No, I know what truly lurks in the underbrush of these woods.

    One (or is it two?) words: Werewolves. That's right, you heard me correctly, Werewolves. I've never told anyone because it was quite obvious no one would ever believe me. I know they are out here, hiding behind every tree, under any bush, watching, waiting to make their mark to either one, eat us. Or two, infect us so that we become one of them.

    You are maybe wondering how I am so sure of their existence. Well, that is quite simple; someone I once loved, perhaps someone I still love, is one of them now. As much as it pains me to admit it, I am here on this dark frill night to kill him, to release him of this retched curse even if it kills me.

    Oh, where are my manners, I have not properly introduced myself; My name is Winnow. Odd name, isn't it? I stand about 5' 4' and weigh about 125 pounds. I have a slightly athletic build (I should hope I do after being a laborer all these years back in town) with brown eyes and hair. My breasts are average, just in case you're wondering what gender I am.

    I throw my shirt over a near by branch and continue own, keeping my gun firmly in hand and lowered slightly at the ground. It is, of course, loaded with 6 silver bullets. It is a standard revolver, no special qualities or anything, only here to make sure I get the job done. I have a box of spare bullets in my left pocket just in case 6 shots proves to not be enough. Strapped to my left thigh I keep a short silver dagger in case I am forced to go into hand to hand defense.

    I keep thinking about how I really don't want to be here, about how I wish I didn't have to do what I am here to do... but I know it must be done, I know I have to kill him. But another part of me wonders if that is really true. What if I don't have to kill him? What if there is another way to save Sedrick?

    Sedrick... I stop walking a moment and let that name echo in my mind. Sedrick, how I miss spending time with him. When ever I think of what me and him had together always makes a smile creep across my face, but then a frown forces it self out when I remember what he has become. I have to stop loving him, otherwise I might not be able to do what needs to be done.

    I freeze as I hear a branch snap behind me. My muscles tense and I feel the adrenaline start to ooze through out my blood and body. My breathing becomes easier and my chest begins to beat harder, that's another feeling I hate. I make sure not to execute any sudden movements, less I provoke what ever is there (if anything.) I slowly lift the gun and grasp it with both hands.

    My chest was beginning to hurt, damn it, I was letting the fear win. I start to breathe deeply, trying to get my vitals back into safe perimeters. I begin to pray silently, not for my own safety, but I pray that it isn't Seddrick. While I hope it is him so I can get this over with, I pray it is not because I do not know if I can bring myself to do it...

    I begin to turn slowly, carefully moving my feet under me, trying ever so hard not to move to quickly or loose my footing. I now have turned around entirely and the moment I do my hearts stops; there he was. He stood eight feet tall and was hunching he back forward. He basically looked like a man with a wolfs head covered in fur. He was wearing the gold chain I had given him some months back, it hang lazily in front of him. He had a scar on his nose from the last time I had tried to kill him but had hesitated at the final blow, if it hadn't been for me running through that river he would have followed my scent home and killed me that night for sure. His muscles were rippling through his body, flexing at the slightest movement.

    He was growling at me, his claws in the air looking as if he would pounce of me any second. I had the gun aimed straight at him, pull the trigger!I think to myself. I begin to shake and I feel a tear fall down my cheeks, landing on the ground silently. Pull it! Pull it! Pull it! I keep repeating too myself. The finger that is wrapped around the trigger begins to shake violently. You have too before he attacks you first!

    Which brings another thought to my mind, why hadn't he yet? He could have killed me already but he hadn't. I concentrate more on him, he hadn't changed his stance much, drool was running down his neck from snarling and his claws were stilled razed and he was still hunched forward.

    “Seddrick...” I let his name escape my lips in a muted whisper.

    “Do it,” I hear him say so suddenly and I jump and look at him. He voice had been very deep and rough, like one of those “macho men” you still at the tavern and he has a throat ache or something.

    “Do it,” he repeats, and I begin to cry without dropping the gun or changing positions, “Kill me, I don't want to hurt you, so kill me,” How could he say it all so casually?!

    “I-I can't...!” He gasp at him. It's taking all of my wits to not just drop the gun and run and wrap my arms around him, I just want to feel him close to me again.

    “God damn it, if you don't kill me I'll kill you!” he roars at me. His eyes are glaring, his teeth ready to rip through my flesh. I have too, but I can't! I still love him, I admit it. I don't want him to die much less knowing I would be the one who did it!

    “I can-” he cuts me off abruptly.

    “DO IT!” he lunges at me, coming straight at me with mind boggling speed. I side step out of the way and loose my footing and fall to the ground and he flied over me. I flip over too see him walking slowly towards me. I grip the gun and raze it.

    “I'm sorry,” I sob silently, hoping that one day he can forgive me, “I'm sorry!” before I had even finished saying it, the gun had fired. He freezes and his eyes widen and moves one of his massive claws to clutch his chest. He falls to his knees and begins to pant hard, then falls over to his side. He was still alive, and still panting.

    I drop the gun slowly climb to my feet. I gaze at his fallen figure, which is now lying on it's back. Slowly and cautiously, I tip toe over to him. He turns his head to look at me when I sit on my knees next to him. He raises one of his claws and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and tries to smile. At least I think it was a smile. I move to rest his head on my lap, and take his hand in both of mine, and hold it close to me. The blood starts to stain his fur and leak onto the ground. It was everywhere.

    I sob hard, really really hard and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close to me.

    “Hey now,” his voice is still like a werewolves, “don't cry...” he soothes, and uses the same claw, the claw that isn't clutching his bleeding chest, to stroke my hair.

    “I'm sorry!” I try not to say it too loudly, and fail horribly.

    He nuzzles into my neck and breathes in deeply and as he does, I notice, there is a gurgling sound in his chest but he seems to ignore it. He begins to lick my neck like your pet dog would do, affectionately kissing me. His hand falls away from my head and he falls back down to the ground. He is still panting though, so I know he's still alive. I look into his eyes, and he looks into mine. I note that they look much more human than they died a few moments ago. I lean over and kiss him on the forehead. I've missed those eyes so much...

    “Thank you...” he gasps and his body goes limp a few moments after that. I continue to sob and stroke his head softly and just sit there. I remember falling asleep, but I don't remember when, all I knew was when I woke up I was hugging his body tightly to mine. I give him another kiss on the forehead and force myself to stand. I leave the gun there, no one knew I had it so it wouldn't matter if anyone found it. But before going, I take the gold chain I had given him that was still around his neck and put it on myself.

    I will never allow myself to forget the horrible things that I had to do on that night.

    Never.
     

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