Bloody Baroness

Chapter 2

My head begin to stir as old memories resurfaced, bombarding my brain with thoughts and vile emotions I though was left behind. My family helped me escaped they knew that my being there would bring the world to a fiery end with me being the one to light the match. There are a total of eight packs in existence all falling under a phase of the moon, each holding a different meaning to the Lupes community. The pack I once belonged to exist to serve under the Waxing Gibbous the moment before full power is reach, the moment in which chaos is on the edge, waiting for the final moments in which it's able to achieve its full potential.

The place I come from violence was never too far, where just around the corner a young child would be covered in blood with flesh between their teeth. A place where this violence brought upon power, and my being there would only give these group of individuals the authority they needed to spring chaos upon the world. I still remember the smell that lingered in the air, the way the heat seemed to rile everyone up, the looks we gave each other as the hunger overcame us. We ran our home like the animals we were, the animals we are, fighting and ripping each other apart, all in the name of fun. I had to leave for my presence only gave them power, but not only that it changed me, turned me into things I'd never thought I could be. I harmed people, I killed people, I've done things that my fellow species would never think to do, but it was the way I was raised, the way I was brought up, the way that I am. I was, and still am betrothed to a man known as the Baron, our union would bring power to our pack, restore it to the greatness it once was, but it would also bring about the destruction of man kind and all the creatures that linger in the shadows. The ritual would put our pack on the top, bring us out of the dark and into the light. We are believed to be lost in history, but that is far from the truth, we lurk in the woods, we hunt your children, we feast on your kin, we are the wolves you were brought up to fear, and for good reason. The ritual I speak of is the sole reason my pack only seems to exists in dusty history books. It's an old legend that foretold a Baron and Baronesses union that would devour the world whole. The eldest children of the eighth generation of the noble families would be wed off to bring about strength to the pack. Folk tales say only two wolves remain, but we know the reality of this situation. The refusal to acknowledge the Waxing Gibbous existence will bring about their downfall and if they continue this behavior than I shall continue to be on the run.