Hunters of the Night

Chapter 1 - Fangs and Claws

She was running, ploughing through the forest leaving a stream of broken twigs and disturbed sand behind her. A twin beside her, a pack in front of her. Her blood was surging through her veins, her hair whipping back and forth behind her as she flung her hands and feet in front of her, elongating her strides. She could smell the bloodlust in the air, a raw, dangerous smell vibrating from the pack. It seeped into every pore, every crevice of her body and left her with a feeling of dread and disgust, but she had to pretend that she liked it. She had to.

The alpha turned, his bare chest threaded with lean muscle and his eyes teeming with such hunger that it made her whole body tense. The pack slowed and silenced and the only sound filling the night was the steady breathing of 23 betas and an alpha.

"Are you ready!" he barked with a scathing smile towards the predators that lured in front of him. She tilted her head, exposing her concealed fangs, letting the moonlight reflect off of them and emitted a low growl and a feisty snarl with the pack. She couldn't let them smell her caution, dear god she couldn't let them smell her disgust. Behind the alpha she glimpsed a village, all lights extinguished, all goodnights whispered to little children long done. All innocent dreams blossoming inside their innocent minds, whisking them some place far away. Only for everything they knew and held dear to be shredded apart by fangs and claws. She wanted to shout, to scream at them to do something, to say goodbyes and I love you's before they met their end but she was restrained by ghost chains, by her way of life. She hated this way of life.

The alpha tilted his head to the moon, took a deep breath and howled. It was roped with such power it was unfathomable. It penetrated into everyones sharp, pointed ears and evoked the hyped killer mode that they were going to thrust upon the village. The pack joined in, howling into the still, breathing night and hurtled for the village. "You have to do it Elara, you have to kill," my brother growled, his eyes flashing an amber colour. I mimicked his eyes, "I'm ever so sorry Cayden, but my instincts tell me I'm just not suitable for this," and I sped after the pack.

There were screams rippling through the dark. Agonising screams that left Elara's ears ringing and replaying their constant bawling. She ran past all the houses that had already had their doors flung off their hinges  and forced herself past the already blood splattered floors and walls. There was a small house, nestled in a bend that no one had laid a claw on. She mustered up her energy, strength and sheer determination as she barrelled on all fours to the house.

She had to get this done fast. She bounded soundlessly through the open window and landed in a pink bedroom. The movements of a little girl were evident, her pulse was slowly rising from the sleep that encumbered her being. If she saw Elara in this form, honed for death and destruction what would she make of her? A blood thirsty monster.

"Are you here to kill me?" a wary voice filtered through the darkness. She was awake. Still hazed, but awake. And not screaming. Elara breathed in deeply. "Do you trust me not too?" Elara said into the darkness. "No, but you're not like them," she whispered after a few seconds of silence. Elara sniffed the air and zoned in on the emotions the girl was feeling. She didn't have a hint of fear but more an expectant, urgent aroma. "You're right to not trust me and you're right that I'm not like them. They're coming for you. They're ruthless. I can give you a pain free death," Elara nudged a bottle into the little girl's chubby hands. She had broken into the local hospital supplies and swiped high dosages of painkillers that would cause instant death three days ago. The little girl's hands shook. "I drink this and then I fall into an eternal sleep?". Elara nodded. "Give to your parents as well," she passed two more small bottles. "Hurry!" the girl scampered off and returned a few minutes later.

Elara had known that the effects were almost instant. The girl's eyes were stripped of all light, and despair had made its home where happiness once was. "Before I do this," she tilted the bottle up, "I want to tell you three very important things: one; when I die you must leave scratch marks on my body, incase the others want to admire your first kill. Two; I can hear peoples sad thoughts and I don't know how. And three; you are not a monster. You are brave." She stepped forward and hugged Elara. Too soon a bottle clinked to the floor, empty and the girl suddenly became a dead weight. She had died in Elara's arms.

Elara delicately lay her down, choking down the tears that threatened to spill. This little girl didn't deserve this. Panic flamed through her as she sensed a figure in front of her. She looked up, but there stood Cayden, blood spewed on his shirt and a look of disappointment in his eyes. He had seen her bend the rules, back out of a first kill. Would he tell the Alpha? Would he want to sign her death certificate?

"You reek of fear and grief, go sort yourself out." Elara released a shuddering breath ."I'll make their deaths look a little more convincing," he croaked. Elara was to shaken up to notice the hint of admiration and sadness lingering in his eyes.

Elara ventured outside, towards a towering tree and started scaling the thick bark and branches. She needed to breath. She needed to rope in her emotions. She needed to obliterate them, or the others would heavily suspect something. In and out. She let the wind caress her face and smother out the smell of the death that engulfed the village. You are not a monster. You are brave.

Elara's keen hearing picked up footsteps long before she saw the pursuer. It was her mother, a highly respected adolescent wolf in the pack. Her short, wavy hair swished as she advanced towards the tree. Even at her age, her arms and legs were crammed with hard, rigorous muscle.

Dawn was just breaking and the sun was leaking its inevitable rays, highlighting the nights disastrous events.

"I'm pretty sure that wolves don't climb trees," she said, scrunching her nose towards the blinding sun where Elara sat. Elara brushed the comment aside, focusing on emitting the right scent around her mother. "Anyway, so, how did your killing go? How much blood did you spill?" she said with a devilish smile. Elara pulled the strings inside of her taunt and forced herself to fabricate a gruesome story of prey and predator, all the while her mom listened intently and her fanged smile grew wider and wider.

She yanked Elara out of the tree branches and gave her a bone-crushing embrace. This was not how Elara wold have liked to spend 'bonding time'. Her mom released her, a satisfied smile plastered to her face and started walking away.

"You're growing into a skilled woman, Elara.  A skilled beta," she shouted extravagantly over her shoulder. Elara watched her mother walking, hands slung by her sides as she descended the hill and her lie started spiralling round and round.