℃ḯґḉυṧ: Histories

((NOTE: This is basically a thread for the ℃ḯґḉυṧ rp about the past stories/flashbacks of the characters. This is here just to save confusion from occurring in the actual roleplay. If you are going to post, please title the post. For example, the title could be "the story of *insert character name from the story here*"
If its with more than one character, that is fine just as long as you say before posting.
The stories can be any length, and please make it as detailed as possible! it adds to the creativity and suspense!
Take your time, do not rush it as it could affect the writing itself. that is all! This is not a typical roleplay thread, so write it as you would a fanfic or a short story please!

another note is that the history in this story does not have to be correct! That is why it is a STORY.))

The Life and Times of Alexander Fink

(this has alexander, and a small it of his duaghter.)

The Day I awoke was strange and dark. I was created out of nothingness, along with my brothers and sisters. one of my brothers, who we called "the creator" was able to make anything and everything he imagined out of thin air. he is the one that created the world, the universe, and the galaxy. the twins, one a girl we call Life, and the other a boy named Death. Life breathed life into the things The creator made, and death took it away when it was needed. this is how the world, humans, and other creatures, came to be. but what of me? who was I? why was I the only one of us who asked these questions? My name was Knowledge, but what did that mean? what did anything really mean? I wanted someone to talk to, someone to help understand what it all meant, so, after the creator made beings that resembled our form, and Life brought them to life, I decided to grant them with my Knowledge. they started to learn and become intelligent, I have watched their intellect grow for many years, but still no one has helped me understand the meaning of it all. One day I learned the meaning to our existence. there was a woman, named angela. she was royalty. at this point in human history, they had forgotten who created them, and who gave them their knowledge, I was not given the respect of an omnipotent being, but that of a commoner, but I did not care. I had given humans intelligence, so it was only natural that their thoughts and imaginations where mine as well. I could know anything they did. it helped in my quest to win the girls heart, but Knowing the girl's mind, and knowing her heart where two different things. I worked for years trying to make her fall in love with me, but I was never met with the desired results. I almost gave up, when one day she came to me. "sir arther" she said to me, this was the name I had choosen that millennia. "why, on this day, have you not done something that amazes me? it seems to me that every day for the past two years you have come to me with an amazing gift, but today I find you here, alone and upset." she had said. I answered "It is not for your Eyes amasement I show you these things everyday, but for your hearts." she had not known that my gifts where attempts to win her over. she started to laugh. from that day we spent every hour together. we had a child, and for the first time since I was born, I lived. but she was human, and humans can not live forever. I pleaded with my brother death to let her live, but he told me it could not be done. she was to die. I took care of our daughter, by myself for years. she was the only thing that brought me joy. I searched deep in my mind, so full of knowledge, to find a way to bring my wife back. eventually I had an Idea. I used my knowledge to bring my wife back to life, but at a terrible price. she became the first of a species now known as vampires. She was not like other vampires though, she was full bloodthirsty, her mind had gone with her to the afterlife, so when I brought her back, it was only her body that lived, her soul and mind where gone. My daughter, sweet little Amber, was driven to the brink of insanity after seeing her dead mother transformed into such a horrific beast. I did the only humane thing and wiped her mind. I had lost my wife, and in my grief, I had forced myself to lose my daughter as well. that is the sad true story of Alexander Fink, the tale of the dumbest decision the smartest man in the world ever made.

title: little red ridinghood was but a wolf in sheeps clothing.

she'd been alive many years, this is true, and she had seen many die, this lonely she wolf who lived for all eternity, trapped inside her own body.

kierca, her mother had called her, when she had been alive, when everyone she knew and loved had been alive and she herself had not been a mere figure in the shadows. she now goes by a different name, an aliass if you will, 'redd' was her current name and it was a name she rather liked.

it was the colour of blood matted in her fur and the liquid currently trickling down her fangs.

she'd spent many years hunting deer and the occasional human before she cracked.... it was around her 74th year of living and she'd decided she'd had enough of luring men in with her red cape, the colour of passion and lust out into the forest with promises she never had any intentions to keep.

she snow demonized towns and villages, loosing any sense of real humanity she'd once had.

however it didn't pose a threat til the 78th year of life and eternal torture for this barely human figure.

"Liarah? Liarah! Where ARE you? This is hardly the time to be hiding, young lady." A posh but elegant voice called from inside of the Winter estate early one summer morning.
Liarah glanced up as she heard the familiar voice calling her name from the other room, hastily closing the book she was reading, she hid it behind one of the cushions that rested on the chair she was sitting on before getting up and walking out of the living room. Standing at the doorway she said in a quiet voice "I am here, mother.."
"Oh, good. There was something I wanted to give you.." Her mother said, walking over to Liarah and putting a necklace around her neck. Clipping it together she said "This necklace has been passed down from my grandmother..to my mother, to me..and now? to you." She said, smiling softly.
Liarah looked down at the necklace, her finger tracing along it delicately "but..mother, are you sure?" She asked, looking up at her mother.
"Its a present, for your birthday." Her mother smiled "Now Liarah, I know you are not..quite like other girls your age. And your father and I have come to accept you are not quite ready for marriage.." She said, putting her hands on Liarahs shoulders she looked at her and said "But know that we love you no matter what..."
"..mother?" Liarah said, a hint of worry in her voice as she looked up at her mother "is...i-is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, do not worry my child" She smiled softly and handed Liarah a purse with a few gold coins. "You may go to the market and buy whatever you like, take as much time as you need" She said
Liarah blinked and nodded "yes, mother.." she said, doing as her mother had told her.
She headed outside of the estate and got on a carriage which had soon taken her to the marketplace not far from the estate. Her family was a rather wealthy one, and well known too. She wasn't entirely sure as to why, but something told her to not go to the marketplace that day..perhaps it was instinct...or perhaps it was just her imagination.

As the day passed, what first seemed like a great day soon revealed itself to be quite the opposite. She was heading back to the carriage only to come to a stop as she noticed smoke filling the air around her. A scream could be heard and a yell of "FIRE!" from down the street erupted as the entire village was in full scale panic.
Liarah who was both curious and sick with worry at this time moved away from the carriage and tried to find where the fire was coming from. Her eyes widened as her gaze met with a house engulfed in flames.


She grabbed the skirt to her dress and ran as fast as she could, pushing past the pedestrians who were heading the same way. A male tried to stop her from entering the house, but to no avail she pushed past him with ease. She ran through the front doors to the burning remains of what once was her home and through the flames in desperate search for her mother and father. Choking on the black smoke that filled the room, she eventually found the room her parents were in. Only to find something that haunts her even to this day.

Her mother and father were hanged in the dining room, stakes pierced into their chests as blood dripped down their corpse like bodies and into the floorboards. Tears streamed down Liarahs face as she let out a scream. Her eyes blurred from the tears and she had soon forgotten about the fire that spread faster by the minute. Stricken with grief, she clinged to the bodies of her parents whilst she cried out for help. As Liarah cried, what sounded like a snap of a twig could be heard, coming from the upper floor. She looked up, frightened as she heard the snap. Her eyes widening as the entire upper floor to the estate greeted her and her parents like a close friend.

As for what happened to dear Liarah Winter, nobody knew. At least, thats what they thought back then on that warm summer evening.

Liarah opened her eyes weakly, coughing slightly as she sat up "w-where..?" She wondered aloud as she surveyed her surroundings. She appeared to be sitting in a graveyard..or more specifically on a tombstone with her name on it. She let out a shocked yelp as she jumped away from the tombstone "t-that tombstone..why does it have my name on it?!" She said starting to panic. Was this truly the afterlife? Was she a..ghost?

"Ah, so you are awake I take it" A male voice said, leaning against one of the tombstones. Liarah looked over to the black haired male, soon recognizing the familiar face that stared back at her.

"Wait...I know you...did you not work for my father?.." She said, tears started to sting her eyes as the memories came back of her parents. Biting back the tears she regained her posture, and tried to overcome her grief that threatened to wash over her. Soon forgetting about the tombstone, she was curious as to why this man was here..

"Ah, yes. I did..allow me to introduce myself, my lady~ My name is Theodore" He said, doing a mock bow as he said it with a smug grin on his face. As he grinned his fangs were clearly visible, causing Liarah to back away slightly out of both fear and curiosity.


"Ah, do not worry, young one, I will not..as the saying goes, 'eat you alive'" He said, laughing slightly in order to reassure Liarah as he noticed her backing away slightly from him "well..that would be cannibalism..and I do not favor the cannibals.." he said with a nervous laugh "I'm a vampire, not a killer you know~" He pointed out, trying to convince her.

"wait..but..i'm not one of you..." Liarah pointed out "so..why would it be cannibalism?"

"..well..you see, that may be a problem" Theodore smirked "You see, you were always a vampire in your blood, not physically, no....but from centuries ago, so to speak... Vampirism is in your blood, and I was the one to bring it back, you should thank me, you know. I did save your life~" He pointed out before handing her back the necklace "this was with you when I found you, and you were barely alive back then. Not to mention you looked like charcoal before I turned you...one of the perks of vampirism my friend, fast healing~!" He grinned, seemingly enjoying this situation.

"but..wait..i'm a vampire?! but..I don't WANT to be some sort of bloodsucking leech.. " Liarah protested as she continued to back away from the strange man. She checked to see if she had fangs which, of course, she actually did. This wasn't some sort of trick after all..Liarah tried her best not to freak out, and instead looked at the necklace that she held onto dearly.

"..easy on the leech..we still have some feelings you know" He muttered under his breath before looking at the young girl and saying "And it was not my decision so to speak, it was your fathers." Folding his arms as he spoke, he continued "He knew what the villagers were going to do, so he chose not to tell you nor your mother. My only regret is that I could not save them in time" He said with a small sigh "My apologies, lady Liarah, but you are one of us now, whether you like it or not..I can teach you, but when I am convinced that you have learned all that you can learn, I will be leaving you in the world by your own. That is all that your father had asked of me, and that is all that I shall offer."

The Girl with Two Names

light floods into my eyes as I open them, I awake in a burned down building, everything is is destroyed, everything is burnt, everything except me. but...who am I. I walk to where the door used to be. a few horses are galloping towards me, all with knights mounted on them. "young Lady, are you OK?" a knight says to me. "where you here? when the fire began?" he asked. I stared blankly at him. he took off his helmet, his short hair, golden in the sun, he stared at me and held out his hand. "come with me fair maiden, I will take you back to the kingdom, we will find you a room in the inn until a house can be built for you." he said. I smiled as I looked into his eyes, but just when I started to feel comfort in his eyes, I saw something, It was a vision of the man, the nice golden haired man, and he was doing horrible, unspeakable things, villiages burnt to the ground at his order, children slaughtered by his blade, and women...women where....no, I backed away from him slowly. "you...you are a monster." I ran, I ran as fast as I could, I somehow outran their horses. I ran until I couldn't run anymore, and I collapsed outside a farm.

Part 2
I awoke in a bed, a rag of cold water on my forehead. "whe...where am I?" I ask slowly.
"oh dear, you took a nasty fall, right outside our house." an elderly woman said. "so then, what's your name?" she asked.
"my name? I...I don't know." I say, trying to remember it, but it is impossible.
"how about this then, until you remember your name, you can be called Tifa. It's my duaghters name, she died last winter." the old woman said with a sad tone. "but that is life you know, people die, and the world keeps turning." she gets up and walks towards the door. "you rest until you are better, stay as long as you would like."
I stayed at the old ladies home for years, doing farm work, earning my keep, but I kept having flashes, when I would look into peoples eyes, I would see things, not things they have done, but things they would do. after 20 years, the old woman passed on, and I left the house. I became a traveling Fortune teller, famous for my perfect predictions.
{to be continued}

Ozzyre Clyff

Time was something he was starting to give up on. He has lost track of the years he has been alive, and lost track of how many people he has met over the years. Some of them were memorable. But, not enough to conjure a face within his thoughts. Just a voice. No name, either. Just. . . a voice. There was a part of him that wished that there could be someone who would become more than just a voice. It seemed highly unlikely. . .

Oz currently resides within a chilling town, where people were busy scurrying about, as if preparing for something. Most of the time, they were. But, Oz kept to himself, only offering a helping hand to those who truly needed it – which was usually some elder person or child.

He would get odd stares, though, due to the mask. That was the thing. Oz would change his appearance every hundred years or so, sometimes less. Just because there were people within this world he had to hide from. But, he wore the mask, because his smile. . . such a wonderful smile. . . NEVER changed. And if someone who has been chasing him for a hundred years saw that smile, they would recognize it within a heartbeat.

kieca twitched in anticipation from her room in the villages inn.
today was the big hunt, she'd eliminate all the hunters and then the rest of the humans in this village would soon follow.

she laughed to herself, grinning at the ceiling "what's that god? you don't exist? obviously not dah~? you let a daughter you cast out to the wolves to feed upon your small project that is the world. and for what huh? entertainment? do you get as big as a thrill as i when i corner the stupid mortals?" she sighs contently at this.

" i've taken down four of your villages, make your move creator or i shall run amok~!"

she then got off of the bed and grabbed a satchel she'd brought with her everywhere and left her room.

she just needed a small portian of human made food first....

there wouldn't be much time to try this villages speciality soon anyway.

Oz walks into a small shop, where various foods hung about. It ranged from meats to fruits. Either way, nothing smelt particularly good to Oz. If he didn’t know better, he would think that everything within the compact building was either rotten or getting to that point.

He plugs his nose for a moment, his sensitive sense of smell acting up. But, when someone stares at him, he quickly moves his hand away from his nose.

But, Oz’s ears twitch beneath the turban as he hears a group of men at the shop’s counter talking about. . . a werewolf?

Is that what they were preparing for?

she's had many years to learn how to hide her wolf features and has come up with many different versions.

this by far is her favourite.

kierca wears a pleated red and white dress that goes down to her knees, long boots covering up the rest. thanks to the pleats and the space they provide, she can keep her tail enclosed within the skirted area without feeling pain.

and then there's the hooded cloak.

she had heard many stories passed down through history and this was by far her favourite, little red riding hood. she imitated the character perfectly, her ears hiding underneath the cotton of the hood, pressed against her skull.

she even had a basket on her arm for her to use as an excuse to go mushroom or flower picking. really it was used to hold snacks for the road, arms and legs hidden by a thick layer of blanket.

"one steak special and a pint of vodka please dervis, i'd like very much if i could eat before i go out today" kierca says, laughing slightly as she walks over to a table.

she had gotten to know everyone in this town, just like the last four. it made them taste better.

she sat there and listened to the locals talk about the wolf, the werewolf, about her.

Oz was tired of eavesdropping, as his level of caring wasn’t at its highest. Well, it usually wasn’t to begin with. He exits the shop, having stolen two apples on his way out, but was completely unnoticed. Oz had never been caught~

When he knows he’s a distance away, Oz pulls one of the golden apples from his Egyptian-styled clothing, and takes a large bite out of it. He missed fruit. And he was parched due to the extreme temperatures of the desert he had previously been at.

Deserts are the worst.

He stands for a moment, watching people continue to move about the village. . . readying themselves.

And after taking another bite of his apple, he raises it slightly as if giving everyone a toast, and smirks, "Good luck to you all."

after having eaten from the inn she hurries out, drifting past people with a certain elegance only gained from having avoided being noticed for years, after all if anyone really cared to look closely, they'd see her eyes were inhuman and that her canines were longer than normal and lets not forget the fact that at the very ends of her cape there were small blotches of dried blood.

of course anyone who questioned her on this blood either met the fame fate as those whose blood it belonged to or were told the simple excuse that she was a hunter and had used her cape to carry the meat.

she enjoyed this game with the humans, sniffing in the air for traces of ash and fire and trying to find where the smell was the strongest.

she had to find the hunters first and then label them off for later, she'd hunt tonight but for now, she would mark her prey.

she had a certain method to this, she'd go into the forest before entering any village and grab the flowers that smelled the strongest to her senses. once she'd picked them and wormed her way into the village she'd give a flower to her prey on that day so she could track them in the night.

so far she'd had nothing to worry about as no strangers got in her way.

so here she is, drifting in and out through crowds to find her prey, no one noticing her and she in return chooses to not notice them lest she become entranced by their smell and shift there and then.

Oz’s eyes narrowed and he sniffed the air, and he watched someone walk by. His attention follows them, and he looks away. They had a smell unlike anyone else within the village. She wore a dress, shorter than the dresses that other women wore. But the most off-putting was the aura.

But, he wasn’t going to say anything. Oz wasn’t one to get involved with another person’s life. So, he backs away, and turns around, trying to push the image of the young woman away. But, she was glued within his mind, and he cursed himself for it.

Snapping his eyes shut, Oz comes to a stop. When he opens his eyes, the image of her is gone.

He couldn’t let his mind become so weak.

kierca smiles falsely at everyone she passes, handing out flowers to few, telling them that it was a village tradition from where she came from to give good luck charms to the hunters before they went out.

after this she makes her way towards the shadows of the buildings, drifting from one to another until she see's the villages exit. she runs as fast as she can to get into the forest, she needs to escape, she needs to kill, she needs to be free!
she's been alive 78 years now and she needs this thrill, it helps her stay alive, to feel and to stay sane... otherwise the voices in her head, the ones that scream and cry, the one's that howl will get her....

she knows every cry and every scream off by heart, knows the faces that match with each voice and when she's done feeding, when the bloodlust and the hunger are gone, she'll remember.

she'll sit there in the forest, in a cave for a few days and think, REALLY think about the lives she's taken and although she no longer believes in the merciful god she grew up with, she'll pray for each and every one of them and say how sorry she is. because she hates being the big bad wolf, she hates being who she isn't.... or not being who she was.

if she had a choice she'd go back to it all and she'd beg, for what she doesn't know, but she'd beg and she'd lock herself up in her room, tie herself to her bed in chains even if it would stop her from going outside.

her life was ruined because she thought it would be a good idea to leave her home, to wander the streets in the night and to hide in the shadows as she ran to the meadows. how was she to know? how was she to know back then what she does now?

how was she to escape the beast the cornered her, that literally scarred her for life? she could have never outrun the thing that turned her into this, a beast, a monster, an evil creature of the night.

kierca shakes her head, she did not need these thoughts, she was hungry, she desired her prey to be dead and she needed nothing but bloodlust and animalistic nature to guide her.

she needed no feelings, thoughts or actions, she just needed a desire or a drive.

she just needed her hunger.

(I loved that! It was amazing!

And I shall post later!)

(WOOOO! glad you liked it XD )

It was starting to get late, and the night air was becoming crisp. The freshness of the atmosphere was overwhelmed by what tasted like sudden fear. Concern. Panic.

And Oz stands within the center point of the village, turning in every which way direction to watch as the citizens begin to scurry indoors. Mothers drag crying children inside, and fathers wear mean scowls and hold weapons.

Some of them must be hunters.

He notices something out of the corner of his eye, and turns his head to watch as the young woman from earlier runs. She is leaving the village. . .

“Had a feeling. . .” Oz whispers to himself.

kierca signs in contentment as the moon comes out, the sky darkening around her and the animals of the woods falling asleep alongside her humanity.

she stripped herself of her clothes, putting them in her satchel to collect for later and putting that in the basket with her extra 'snacks' inside. she groaned in pleasure as her tail and ears were finally allowed to be free and drift about in the wind. her nails on both her hands and feet extended into claws and her canines into large fangs as her eyes shifted to black.

this was her favorite stage of her shift, the next one hurt like a bitch and it always would.

she got down on all fours, hair becoming fur all across her body and then it happened, the agonizing pain of bones break, of muscles being torn and of being split into two halves. she roared and screamed as the pain took her, lulling any humanity she had away, putting it to sleep while her inner beast raged at the pain it was receiving.

her face was now that of a wolves and her hands and feet were now paws.

she however could stand if she felt so inclined but for now she would be silent, a large wolf in the forest.

she howled once and forest animals fled from her presence, predators either running to her or away.
she'd worked out a tactic, she was able to commune with the animals, especially the predators and make them in a way, dance for her, sing for her, fight for her.
she grunted and growled at them and the first wave of predators headed out of the forest, wolves, bears and wildcats alike speeding towards the village, followed by a second and third wave before she herself deemed it acceptable to run towards the village.

today was her day and this was her hour.

all would cower before her and they would be slaughtered by her might.

Oz's ears twitched beneath his turban, and he looks to watch as a herd of various animals came charging towards the village. The men who remained outdoors with their weapons all readied themselves, as though they had anticipated this. And they had, due to the tales that had come from other attacked villages.

He felt suddenly helpless. It was odd. Oz usually didn't care. But, for some reason, he didn't want to watch these people meet their end.

He could hear the cries of wives and children from inside of the homes.

And it almost seemed to fuel Oz. Pumping him full of odd emotions. Ones that he had felt probably only for a second in his whole entire life.

With thoughts coming to a halt, Oz runs forward and bounds into the air.

He wasn't going to let anyone die today.

He had seen enough death with the thousand years he'd been alive.

And when Oz strikes the ground, landing with palms to the ground and one knee tucked to chest, a surge of electricity and vines exploded from the earth, knocking all of the charging animals away, and some unconscious.

He could feel stares against his back, from the men with weapons. But, he ignored their hidden questions, and rose to his full six-foot-four height.

"I'm not letting anyone die." Oz hisses to himself.

kierca howls loudly and the animals still awake proceed in their efforts as she dodges the vines, hopping over them with grace and ducking under them nimbly when they posed a threat. so what if there was a 'magic' wielder? this would make her feast all the better!

and so she approaches, in the darkness, fur blending in with the shadows as she makes her way to a lone hunter.

she grunts at this ' stupid mortal' she thinks and sneaks behind him, going in for the kill.

there is a small scream from him as he drops his torch, the fire choosing to spread somewhat because of this and she avoids it yes but she gets a small burn on her hind paw. no big deal, a burn will be fine on her ankle, it will remind her of this day, the day she ate magic.

and so she goes for his throat, ripping it opens with her teeth before picking him up slightly and cracking his back in one way or another.
she found that if they were limper, they were easier to carry. and so that's what she does, carry him, by her fangs.

it's less of a carry and more of a drag but she does it, animals flanking her and destroying what obstacles they could, she had promised them some of her feast too and they were just as eager as her it would seem.

she manages to drag it back to the forest but she knows she's made a mistake somewhere, left a print or a hair along the way to signify where she's gone and for the moment she doesn't care because she has food but soon she will...

she lets him go at the edge of the forest and manages to eat quite a bit without having gone insane with the need to kill again.

the hunters in the village roar in anger as they see the fire spreading and spreading, motioning to wives and children to leave houses and that they'd be safer elsewhere, away from the village.

they spot tracks and they yell angrily, their faces set in stone as they pick up their weapons and torches and they go after these tracks.

tonight they will kill the beast.

Oz helped the wives and children to escape their homes, making sure not a single one was injured. He shouted commands, and not a single person stopped to ask who he was or why he chose to do what he did.

Because at the time, Oz had no clue how he'd answer either question.

Busting open the last window to help two children and a panicked mother escape, Oz catches a familiar scent.

It was the young woman. But. . . different. His earlier thoughts had been correct.

He whips his head to the side, watching as the last hunter disappears into the forest.

kierca is halfway done with eating all of him when she hears them, the yelling and the shouting. she backs away ever so slowly, retreating into the shadows for the meantime to watch their movement until it becomes sickeningly clear that she HAD indeed left a trace of herself because now she can see the fire, she can see how the light from the torches casts over their faces and it looks like death to her.

she's lived for 78 years and she's gotten away with this game for four and maybe just maybe... she's... happy? glad? eager? to meet her death. for this to finally end.

and maybe she does something stupid like darts forward ever so slightly and howl at them, mockingly to get their attention, to make them run. and they do.

and now so is she.

Oz's heart was racing in his chest as he ran forward and out of the village, trying to catch her scent. But as he ran through smoke, every scent became one, and he cursed aloud as he coughed.

He hisses as he clutches onto the turban and yanks it off, letting it flutter away with the wind. His ears poke up, moving like radars as they pick up every sound within and around the forest.

Footsteps. Shouting. Some crying.

Taking in a deep breath, Oz calms himself, and closes his eyes to focus.

kierca yelps as bullets are shot at her hind legs, always missing but getting ever closer.

she runs as fast as she can, because she is the big bad wolf who not only masqueraded as little red riding hood, but ate her too. and this, well, this is her end because everyone knows how the story goes, the wolf is killed by the hunter in the end and tossed into the lake.

only she knows she won't get tossed into the lake, she'll have her pelt made into clothes, her head mounted on a wall somewhere and her meat and bones will be used for food.

she supposes it's only natural after all she's done but still....

it wasn't meant to end like this, she was meant to find a cure, to die her own way or to find herself a real pack, not just the animals of the forest.

and so as she sees a clearing in the forest up ahead she thinks one last time of her family and she prays in the god she no longer believes in, to be able to believe once more.

she stops and turns to face them in the empty clearing and stands on her hind legs, roaring for all to hear.

this is her last battle cry and it says 'i will die as i have lived, fighting for my life!'

Oz opens his eyes, exhales, and then sniffs the air once more. Finally, he can actually smell everything, not just smoke. He moves forward, ears twitching as he picks up various sounds.

There was much more shouting now, and each one sounded more upset than the next.

Instantly, Oz understood what it was.

And the ear-shattering outcry sums up his beliefs.

The hunters have found her.

she thanks the god she doesn't believe in that no man has found a way to create silver bullets and that her death won't drag out and she'll shift halfway because of it, to reveal who she once was, who she used to be. because she had touched silver once and had screamed well into the night, clutching her wrist till it stopped.

it took several years but the wound faded to a slight discolouration of the skin and it was unnoticeable to all but her.

and so here she is, charging at the men with guns and fire, hoping her newfound faith will save her even though she secretly hopes to die.

she charges, eyes closed when the guns pierce her skin in the side of her body, opening them in one last howl as she manages to get two more hunters dead before she collapses in front of them, panting at their feet, lying there.

waiting.

silently waiting, for the next bullet to kill her.

The sound was ominous, like the pitiful cries of distressed ghosts. It became higher pitched, a shrill screaming that instantly caught the hunter’s attention. They lowered their weapons, scanning the perimiter, trying to determine the cause of such a horrendous noise. Their eyes lock onto one of the hunters, whose back was twisted in an unnatural way, arms mangled and jaw unhinged to release the outcry. The hunter’s eyes were empty pits of white, staring into the souls of the other men.

Backing away out of fear, the hunters scurried to make distance from their grotesque friend. One goes to snap the man out of the trance, giving him a slight shake of the shoulder. As if the consciousness had been shaken out of him, the hunter collapses, his body having reformed to its original way.

But the hunters were still frightened. Was this forest haunted. Were they now some part of a sick poltergeist. Hearts race in aching chests, and weapons are once more raised.

“It’s probably the damn murderers doing!” One hunter screeches, pointing his torch at the fallen werewolf.

“Hurry up and kill it then!” Another hisses.

At the command, the hunter throws his torch at her. But, it suddenly vanishes in the air. Eyes widen, and several hunters blink, trying to figure out if they were truly watching these things unfold.

Suddenly, the ground buckles beneath a group of the hunters, sucking them halfway into the earth. They struggled to pull themselves up, but it was no use. They were stuck.

Others went to go help, but the air seemed to ripple around them and then explode.

And they were all frozen in place as a figure appeared.

The one who had been the cause of their distress.



And his voice seemed to tremble the planet as he said one simple word to the hunters: "Boo."

kierca saw all of this and looked up at the sky before everything went black.

she had prayed to her god and he had answered, she believed once more in him because he had saved her life.

he had sent an angel to protect her.

and she would live because of him.

Oz is sitting outside of his home. Or, well, his current home. It’s more or less a home that was abandoned. There was furniture and all. And it’s placed just less than a mile outside of a village. A village very far from the one he had been at a month ago.

Very far from the village that had been burned to a crisp.

He sits on a rocking chair, moving back and forth in front of the building.

While inside, wrapped in bandages in one of the beds, is the young woman. . .

He had decided to take her and tend to her wounds – after having scared all of the hunters away, of course.

Taking in a deep breath, Oz gets off the rocking chair and makes his way inside. He walks into the room the young woman still seemed to be unconscious in, and he sits beside her bed, and looks at her.

She was beautiful. . .