King

Prologue

HI! I'd like to give a warning and say this story is extremely hard to read! It's inconsistent and the grammar is poor and all over the place. I'd be happy if you still have a read! It's not my best work but so far it's the only thing that's originally mine and finished! Thank you so much and enjoy if you continue to read on!☺️

           

There was a suffocating feeling of dread and fear as the heavily armed and suited soldiers marched in perfect unison down the clear road. The sky above them was painted grey with sorrow filled clouds, just ready to burst. The men and women carried their weapons with false confidence and certainty of the battle that was ahead of them. But their nervousness for the soon coming events were not without justification, the enemy was not exactly normal.

Neighbors stood on their lawns with uneasy eyes as they passed us. The whole community of the small town of Morrison watched, a small blimp in the sea of perpetual terror that was our country on this day.

News carried out on the living room television, reporters broadcasting from the battlefront. There were clear pictures of wolves and men standing behind them, snarling and snapping their mouths at each other and some watching the reporter man with cautious eyes.

"Today we stand at the soon to be battlefront for the great war between the supernatural and humans." He said clearly, seemingly unfazed by the magic and metamorphosis from man to beast taking place behind him." We stand here today as our country is torn apart by the differences that have kept these many creatures under a strict policy of fear and hiding from none other than the human race." There was a momentary pause as a man stepped forward with a growl. "Today we battle for the dominance of who will rule this world. The supernatural or the human?" He finished with a forced mysterious tone to his voice.

"He says this shit like we had no choice in the matter." My father hollered from the threshold of the front door. His thick eyebrows were drawn in as he blew a puff of smoke into the stiff air outside. "That man in office could have stopped this whole damned thing from happening if he'd just have answered them- signed the motha fucking papers!" He shouted, going into a fit of coughs at the end as he lit another cigarette. My mother payed him no mind as she kept her eyes trained on the new news reporter on the screen.

I nodded my head and gripped my stuffed animal in my arms tightly, I agreed with my father. This could have all been avoided with a simple signature.

It all started in April of last year, when the existence of werewolves was exposed by some lunatic hunter named Sean Howard. I remembered that day clearly, because my mother wouldn't let me go to my friends' seventh birthday party that same afternoon.

There was so much chaos in those first few days, weeks, months. We went nowhere, well my mother and I anyway. All we did was watch the world we live in crumble to pieces from the safety of our flat screen. Riots, hate crimes and death racked the nation as every part of the supernatural community came from hiding. The wolves as their leaders. Humans wanted them murdered and the supernatural wanted dominance and security.

It came soon that the werewolf King began making threats of a mass attack if the humans did not agree to a peace treaty. Our president wanted nothing to do with such "nonsense" as he called it. Claiming that the threats of a mass genocide of the human race a bluff. The wolves were patient for a few months, slowly getting their people under control. Things weren't as bad. For a while.

On the 28th of May the werewolves found one of their young slaughtered and on the bank of Hilling River in the town over from where I lived. Cities went ghost and the wolves were outraged and mourning over the death of their pup. Understandably so, he was just about my age. Six or seven I think. They declared war a short few days later.

Suddenly, outside I heard loud shouts of terror and the snarls of wolves. I whipped my head towards the door and so did my mother. There were loud shrieks as wolves leapt on top of the soldiers, ripping throats and clawing suited flesh.

My father, still smoking his cigarette, stood in mortified shock as the scene played out in front of him. Gun fire rang out like Fourth of July poppers as a sea of wolves crashed into the street. My mother was screaming loudly beside me, yelling at my father. "David shut the god damned door! GET INSIDE!" She yelled at her husband desperately.

It didn't really register with my father that message until a raging red wolf with unnaturally glowing green eyes landed on our front porch. My father stumbled back into the safety of our home as the wolf was shot one single time in the head. My eyes were wide as the white door slammed shut and my mother cried hysterically, but pulled me into a tight hug. Pressing my head into her chest, nearly suffocating me, like pulling me into her chest that way would shield me from the imprinted image of death from my head.

My heart was racing as she rocked me back and forth, whispering "Its O.K baby." over and over in my ear. All while the soft thud of my father's boots pacing back and forth and curse words coming from his mouth only further caused an anxious feeling to settle in my gut. "It's over." She lied, assumingly more to herself than me.

Because in my heart of hearts I truly knew this war was far from the end of the blood that would be shed.