Bride of the Wolf

Chapter I: The Wolf

Bride of the Wolf
By Lori Ellis

 Chapter I: The Wolf

 "Run, run, run. Run, run, run..."

The beast's thoughts were primitive, feral. Born in pain, brought into existence in a manner it could not understand. Its thoughts were incoherent; it existed as pure emotion. And those emotions were rage, and blind hatred.

Through the forest, into the black night it raced. Speed and exertion were the only releases from the cruelty of its existence.

"Run, run, run..."

The beast could not stop, dared not stop. To run was to have purpose; to stop was to face its existence. Dodging trees, leaping fallen logs, the beast was driven by endless energy, and boundless hate.

"Run, run, run..."

Running was all it knew. But there was more. Instinctively, it knew there was more. To stop meant finding out what that was. The beast could not stop. And yet, eventually it would have to.

The beast collapsed, panting from exertion. Barely able to catch its breath, the rage built within it once again. The beast raised itself and howled, an inhuman, bestial cry directed at nothing, and everything. There was not another sound in the forest; no other animal dared bring attention to itself. The hate built up in the beast once again, and it ran.

The beast came to an open area, a long stretch of no trees, trampled grass. Animal smells, not-animal smells. It stopped short of the area, watching, listening. The forest was quiet; no bird called, no animal stirred. But sound from the no trees. Coming toward it.

The beast leapt into the no trees. No trees was flat, running was easy. It ran toward the sound, rage blinding it to any thoughts other than pure hatred for the animal, the noise coming toward it.

The approaching animal stood; large, tall. The beast should have been cautious, should have looked for smaller, easier prey. But there was no room for fear in the thoughts of the beast, only hate. Hate directed now at this animal; this creature that dared approach so boldly. The beast leapt on the animal, the man, knocking it to the ground.

The beast ripped at the animal, killing it almost instantly. Too fast. Not enough release for the rage. The beast growled, dragging the man into the woods, away from the no trees. It would kill again, because now it knew two things that quenched rage. Running, and killing.

The beast looked up. Another sound from the no trees. Another animal, another man. The beast sniffed. Another man, but different. Fresh blood dripped from the beast's horrible snout, and a fire lit in its eyes. Not a man. Woman. Mate.

The beast leapt into the path...