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𝐬𝐢𝐱.

CHAPTER VI
his heritage & his curse.

The once peaceful and silent woods resembled a murder scene. The white snow now tainted a gruesome red, the cold breeze felt like smouldering fire, as two vicious males fought with a killing intention. Both covered in a mix of each others and their own blood. They continues to brawl and tussle, blood and snow scattering in the fight circle until one stood above the other.

Damen standing above his former alpha. His eyes now, a solid gold. His canines dripping with crimson, as the alpha spat out blood. Damen's mind deranged and unhinged. Filled with murderous, absolutely monstrous thoughts & ideas. He wasn't thinking like a man. His mind was in a carnivorous state, only thinking of blood and survival. Like an animal.

His instincts yelling and crying out for him to kill the man where he stands. To rip through his neck and see his blood spray and splatter. Take his place as the alpha, and lead his very own pack. His piercing golden-eyes shrunken like a cat, his sight filled with red, red, RED. What's happening to him?!

The curse of the lycanthrope. The call of pure & untouched animosity. A form of possession over the hybrid between man and wolf. The humane part of the mind fused with the abilities of a wolf. Receiving heightened senses and instincts. Strength and speed in exchange for a possibly terrible faith.

That, is the werewolf curse. None of the 'turning every full moon' or 'having ears and tails even in human form'. Not a painful shift every full moon, although a painful experience, yes. Bones snap and pop into place, teeth grow and elongate, fur and claws begin to grow as the blood rushes through their bodies.

Lycanthropes, in simpler terms, werewolves have been in stories and legends for hundreds and hundreds of years. Stories to frighten children into behaving and an odd attraction to others. The stories remaining consistent. A hybrid between man & wolf. People able to turn into creatures of the wild, with the brute strength and speed unlike any other!

Feared for being able to bite off a mans head with a snap of the jaw. A wolf as intelligent as a human with abnormal abilities. And though it's true, of hounds with the intellect levelled to a humans there's a reason they call it a 'curse'.

Let the sheer power of a lycanthrope take over your mind and senses and you may just lose what makes a Lycan, so special. Intelligence, rationality. Become too consumed in animosity and an animal you shall become. The humane part of the mind devoured by bloodlust and hunger. Thoughts overwhelmed with instinct.

What was happening to him? Instinct. Mind filled with thoughts of shredding his prey apart, to lick the flesh and blood of its bones. The last part of his humanity slipping. Flashing between animal and human. Rip through his neck! No don't kill him! Bite off his arms! God, there's so much blood... Tear through his stomach! Is he alive?! Break his legs!—

As blood continued to spread into the cold snow, Damen pants and huffs. Eyes shaking in conflict from the overwhelming pain in his head. While Ares laid beneath his hand. He had multiple broken bones and probably internally bleeding. Popping his shoulder back in place as he growled in pain. His thought himself filled with threats and curses.

This little shit managed to do all this, yet still doesn't have the balls to end it al— Before he could finish the thought, his own pained scream interrupted him. The mutt had slashed his claws against his chest! An unhealthy and unsightly amount of blood spilling from the lethal wound. He could barely move now without blood spilling from his body. Blood filling his mouth as he spits it onto the ground beside him.

Damen, now crouched down in front of him with his own wounds that had stopped bleeding at this point. A sick grin on his face. "What? Cat got your tongue?" He says mockingly, a sick grin on his face as blood coated his clothes and claws. Ares simply spat in his face as a silent 'fuck off'. With a pained groan he curses Damen.

"Go to hell, you filthy mutt!" he roared out in anguish. The 'mutt' cackled, getting closer and closer to losing all of his humanity. A crazed cackle filled the cold air as Damen clutches his stomach in amusement, looking Ares dead in the eyes.

"You first..." He clenched his throat in one hand and began to slowly dig his claws in like a constrictive boa. And before he could sink his claws deep enough into his carotid artery, and feel the satisfying and addicting flow of his blood running down his arm,

A BLOOD CURDLING SCREAM ECHOED THROUGH THE WOODS...

815 word count.
edited: 27 MAY 2021