As Lyon sat beside the closed door of Margo's room, he pondered deeply about what they had just agreed on doing. Taking Margo to the hunt. He sighs, worried. Why had they agreed? The hunt was usually the official step into "adulthood"- stating you were independent and able to fare for yourself. Margo was barely getting a grasp on her new powers and life. It had been nearly a month or so from her change- it was not enough time. Even worse... the world, their world, was in absolute panic.
With the news of a or two Demonic Generals walking on the surface, things had gone tense. Even worse... they seemed to constantly leave their destructive mark. Mutilated bodies, new minor demons spawning, Exiles running amok inside the city- carefree. Hunts... he didn't know of anyone sending their children on this rite... not now. Why was Altaire pushing Margo so hard? And... fast. As if... he wanted her to do something. He must have an agenda... he would have to find out. But first... he had to wait for the girls.
The bedroom door opened, followed by giggles and laughter from the girls. Lyon looked up to them, they looked... ready. Makeup off, hair tied up by Margo and Millie now wore a simple white dress with a single, clip strap (easy to take off and put on). They looked drop-dead gorgeous, natural beauties. Margo with her marbly perfect skin and Millie with her honey tone. Millie walks up to him and closes his mouth.
Lyon quickly shakes his head and begins to swallow a couple times while Margo giggled, covering her mouth.
"Can't blame me. You look amazing."
Millie, barefooted, tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Margo smiles, forcefully and soon became impatient.
"So cute... shall we leave?"
"Ok, ok. Just..."
"Never mind, lets go."
The group struts to one of the back doors of the mansion, the one leading to the massive back garden. Beyond the green plain with trimmed bushes, a green house and orchard... the forest awaited. Uninviting, dark, eerie and starving. As they got close, Millie and Lyon tensed and began to slowly morph. Being still in a vast openness, they simply limited to bear their claws, ears and fangs.. an incomplete transformation. Margo didn't know yet if something was off or if this was their way of getting ready. But she began to calm herself down, taking deep breaths, taking Lyon's arm as she closed her eyes to focus only on herself and tap into her inner self. They were now at the forest edge.
His voice was grave, husky and snarling, it took Margo by surprise as she popped her glowing emerald eyes at him. Millie giggles, a grave yet feminine giggle-growl. Margo chuckles as her glowing eyes looked between them.
"Didn't know you guys could talk when morphed."
"You learn to... but it's not easy."
Margo chuckles as she rubs Millie behind her now wolf ears and her jawline, the girl simply pants in glee. Lyon laughed hysterically at the scene a bone shivering, grave laugh which actually makes Margo uneasy and proceed to cover his mouth and shut it close.
"Dude, you freak me out."
After a couple chuckles more, they all look into the darkness which spread before them.
"Scream if you need anything. LITERALLY ANYTHING."
Margo answers weakly as she takes a hard gulp and a deep breath. She kneels and focuses on the trial before her. Her claws quickly snap out and her fangs slowly come bare. It still hurt, but she managed. Her eyes were pitch black, emerald green, glowing iris shinning on them... eerie and alive. She could see, she could see inside, the animals that had walked past at some point, and where they had gone. This was going to be easy.
She hisses and bolts inside, lifting dirt and leaves behind her as she bursts inside at blinding speed. Lyon and Millie had no time to stop her and it made them worry sick. They morph into their lycanthropic form, casting their clothes aside, and stomp inside behind Margo's scent. Millie was smart and made her use a perfume, so they could find and follow her. Just in case... but they were very afraid. Something was moving tonight. The hunt... was on.
Margo walked through the forest with ease, her footsteps mute, the only sound she made was when she stepped on some twigs or rotten leaves. By this time, the weather must be chilly cold, if only she could feel such a thing. It was lame, she had always been a winter person, dressing in furs and elegant clothes to keep warm. It made her feel sexy and feminine. But, now, here she was, walking through a forest in the middle of the night with only a leather jacket, tank top and tight leather pants.
Margo was too enthralled with the exterior world and her abilities to care about anything else... even the hunt. She could see... everything, hear everything, sense everything. She could hear the owls echoing in the dark, fluttering, flying or just standing silently like the one two trees over to her northwest. She could see the trail of animals, like the deer prancing in the night, or the bear leading her two cubs who had foraged around the area perhaps 30 minutes ago. She could sense the body heat and tense muscles of the stag to her left, in a small clearing that let light in through the thicket of the trees. A young male, possibly one of its first times venturing out. His blood clean and fresh, pumping rapidly throughout, keeping his muscles ready and alert. It was fascinating... to her eyes, everything was alive, everything was connected... her power was amazing. She was ecstatic... and manic. She had forgotten about control.
As Margo begins to giggle, cold and echoing in the dark, the stag bolts from his place. The breaking of branches and his speed catch Margo's attention, a grutal and primal sensation courses her body. She darts after it.
Margo finds herself thrilled by it all, the deer she was chasing was... slow. Every time she caught up to it in minutes it changed direction, making her slide a while before changing direction after it. She was thankful her power allowed her to keep track of him. However, she soon remembered her training, leaping up to the trees, their rugged texture giving her more grip. She was now chasing it form above, hoping from tree to tree. It was fun. Cat and mouse. And, like so, there was a moment when the chase had to end.
Out of her mind, her fangs and body urging her to do so, Margo speeds over the deer to gracefully land before its path. The deer, panics and tries to run away, a futile try. Margo lunges at it, her claw digging into its side, capturing it, pinning it against the ground as the creature thrashes and screams to be let free. She can hear them, screams of the loser begging the victorious for mercy... but she is deft to such pleas. Margo watches herself bend over the creature, going straight for its neck. She feels the texture of meat, of fur on her tongue, her 4 incisors sinking into hearty, live flesh. She feels, as if taking a deep breath, sucking, a splash of coppery, fresh, warm blood fill her palate and damp her throat. It felt... so good.
What are you doing?!
An echo in her mind. Was it hers? She feels something yank her back, off the deer's neck... her prize. She looks at the night sky, her body floating in the air and, as so, she twist her body so she'd fall feet first on the ground... like a cat. She felt stronger, she felt alive, livelier and she could see even more than before. Her eyes saw everything so lucidly, so vividly, and her power grew along with it. Before her stood a large wolf, yet not quite, but she did not care. It was someone contesting her prey.
Her mind blared, but she couldn’t hear it. Something inside her warned her to stop, to take control… but everything else urged her to go on. She lunged at the creature, smiling, joyful of the experience. To her surprise, the wolf stood on its hind legs, grabbing her head and slamming it on the ground.
Despite the hit, Margo felt nothing, her mind was still sound and she twisted, head still held, throwing a kick at the creatures face. A nasty howl followed and she was free. She jumped back, somersaulting and watching the creature hold its face.
She runs at it, seeking blood, aiming for the heart. It dodges to a side, swiping her down to the ground again. Her power allowed her to react and swipe at the creature's side. Blood tainted her claws. She gets up, licking the blood off- a nasty, dirt and thick taste. With disgust, she lunges at it again now it was just game. This time though, she is tackled by the side. As her eyes swerve to the new foe she notices a hairy figure, quickly diminishing in size, holding her right before her breasts. A girl, honey tinted skin and luscious, long brunette hair.
As they stumble to the ground Margo takes the momentum to get up, she was nimbler now. She was glad trainings were having such quick results. However, watching the girl at her feet, she becomes aware of what she’s done. The wolf crept up to her, slowly changing into someone she knew.
Margo closes her eyes, trying to avoid seeing the naked bodies of her friends. Her claws go to her head, covering her eyes, trying to gain control. She breaths, she tries to think of them, but she was too far gone. Her body ached, it was fighting her… she wanted to go on… needed to go on… she needed blood. Margo screams, a horrible and sharp screech as she digs her claws on the ground. She fights the urges, trying to swim out of her suffocating bloodlust.
The echoes return and she moans in pain as she closes her eyes again. She feels warm, a weight on her back.
“Don’t worry, all will be fine.”
A familiar and manly voice. Margo focuses on it, on him. Lyon, her childhood friend, the one who’d never abandon her, never leave her. He who would always stay by her side. She feels her claws retreating, just a little bit. Another pair of hands cup her face and she opens her eyes. Millie smiled at her, caressing her head. Millie, her best and only girl friend. The one whom she shared her girly and feminine side. Who helped and advised her with men. They were here… together. The last thought bubbles her blood again. She hisses with pain as the urges come again. Why? Killing intent? To her friends? She loved them, she needed them. Why did she wish their deaths? And with her own hands.
Margo opens her eyes, she was conscious now, pain like needles coursing her body. She was still fighting the urge. She needed to get control, and so… she ran.
“Margo!” Two unison cries come from behind her as she dashes with speed deeper into the darkness of the woods. She now understood… she understood what Lyon said. She had been so naive.
“You just want to kill everything... you want more... more blood, more thrill.”
She keeps running, trying to burn her urges away. She used to exercise or run when she got real angry, when she was… “human”? Did such logic work now? She wasn’t growing tired, but she decided to stop, taking in deep breaths. It was annoying to not feel exhaustion but, somewhere along the way, she had forgotten of her murderous urge. Where was she now?
As she looked around, her sight still perfect and vivid, she struggled a bit in focusing down her surroundings. She was deep, the trees contorted into bizarre ways and stretched higher than they previously did. It was the oldest part of the forest, close to its heart. She had strayed too far.
Margo felt uneasy in this dark and unknown terrain. Slowly, she paced among the trees, seeking the shadows to hide her presence. From what? There was nothing here. Traces of animals seemed to avoid this place. Nothing moved, nothing seemed to live… her senses kept saying there was nothing here. That was simply not natural nor right. Her urge to kill was changing into a need of survival, she need to make her way back. As she tried to trace her steps back, she noticed her vision couldn’t follow her own trace… it was fading away like mist. She didn’t understand. All she could hear was… the wind?
A low murmur, her ears picked them out. Inaudible, incomprehensible… a heavy murmur which made her head hurt and her heart sink. She begins to understand, her difficulty to see and follow her own steps. Something was here… something mean.
“OW! OW! OW?!”
“Shut up! It’s not that bad”
Millie pressed some Angelica cloves to the slowly regenerating wound on Lyon’s side. Both too focused on what was going on to care about their current situation. Naked, inches away from each other, Millie tending his wounds. All said and done… they were used to it by now. Werewolves were always naked when morphed… clothes aren’t THAT elastic yet to cope with their abrupt anatomical change. Thankfully, contrary to times when wolves lived and moved in packs, neither had seen many werewolves yet. Lyon kept his eyes closed throughout his tending while Millie’s features burned red, her cheeks especially. Besides, they had rarely seen each other in such a state.
Lyon’s wounds quickly closed with the Angelica cleansing the vampire taint. As he sighed in relief he felt a tongue lick his side, and he laughed as he quickly opened his eyes. Millie had morphed, more comfortable in her lycan state. Her snout caressed him under the chin, as a canine pet would. Laughing, Lyon kissed her bridge and proceeded to morph himself. They weren’t wolves nor did they have paws on all four legs. Their forearms were vicious claws and they were usually crouched and hunched when moving on all fours. Their structure was still humanoid… at a vague extent.
As Millie got on her hinds beside him, Lyon noticed her soft fur. She was truly gorgeous to him in… every way. She flicks his nose, bringing him out of his daze.
Lyon chuckles, if she were human, she’d be blushing now. Still, he simply sighs and both begin to sniff the air. The perfume worked, it was still lingering about. They had to move… before she left them too far behind.
After a while, the two stop on their tracks. Before them stood nothing special, it was simply a darker and deeper stage of the forest they were in. Having gone through a hunt before, the two werewolves knew that the toughest creatures were the ones that usually inhabited these places. They were old and usually barren of life, dead or old trees standing high and tall, blocking light. But, something was different with this forest. The scent stopped dead, overwhelmed by a different scent. Even worse, shadows crept in the dark, their feral eyes unable to peer deep within. Something was wrong… Lyon felt the dread once again.
“Sulfur, arsenic… I know…”
Their voices were whispers as they paced, side by side, on the rim of the place. As if they were trying to hide their presence.
“I hope not… we must find out.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Millie takes a step in, nothing happens. She motions Lyon to follow, he does. They prowl slowly, alert and cautious of their step.
“This is weird.”
Millie's whisper is deep with worry. Lyon shakes his head to her.
“It’s control. Something or someone is controlling them, telling them what to do.”
“They must know we are here.”
“I don’t know. We get Margo and go.”
The snap of a twig makes both of them stand up and snarl, ready to attack. There was nothing. Another sharp snap is heard and this time a faint screech echoes, grutal and haunting. Millie and Lyon tense up, packing up slowly on the direction it came from. Whatever it was, it was coming.
The two werewolves quickly find themselves in a more open space of the woods. Old, twisted... not in a familiar way. The heart... but something was off. The trees and their shadows bent and creeked as if alive. They sniff the air: putrid, sulfur, vague perfume, coppery blood... and old one too.
A branch falls on Lyon’s head. He hisses in pain and both he and Millie look up. 50 feet above their head a slender dark figure hidden between the branches. It motioned them to get up… and fast. Without hesitation, Millie and Lyon scamper up the bark of the thick tree. It was no easy task; contrary to vampires, Werewolves weren’t meant to climb. They manage to get up, still clinging to the trunk with their claws despite their footing on thick branches. They are greeted by a composed, yet terrified vampire girl they were chasing.
"What’s going on?!"
Margo hisses in a low voice as Lyon and Millie quickly shed their fur and morph back into human form.
"Oh for go…"
Margo feels her throat burn and simply hits the tree trunk in pain as she removes her leather jacket and wraps it around Millie, pointing at a naked Lyon to stay away. He scoffs, but moves his body behind the tree trunk where neither of them could see. He looked really hot without clothes… Margo had to admit. She had to focus though and aims her sight down just as the other two. It seemed as if, around them, someone was dimming the lights.
“They are here.”
Millie hisses in a low voice as she pulls some upper branches to hide their presence better.
Millie points at the ground, where flickers of faint movement could be seen. Margo still had to squint. Her vision, even with her power could barely catch anything. However, she felt tired, her power was still too demanding.
“Can someone tell me what is down there?”
“shadows.” Comes the low growl from Lyon.
"“No, Margo. Those things are called shadows. Shadow fiends.” Millie whispers quickly trying to explain.
“They move in packs, hunters in pure evil essence.” Lyon hisses from the other side of the trunk as he motions them to lean back.
Margo shivers. Demons… there were demons here?!
“You still have a lot to study. Minor demons can sometimes slip into our world. Like the Exorcist.”
“Great, that makes me feel much better!”
Millie turns and punches Lyon on the shoulder. Now she hisses at him.
“Even if they are minor, they are very powerful for humans and even inexperienced ...”
Margo looks at them hopefully. Millie frowns at Margo.
“We aren’t soldiers nor part of the Ward.”
“Still, even Wards die to these…”
“SHUT UP!” The two girls hiss at him, annoyed at his negative comment. Perhaps their voices were a bit too loud.
A screech cries from underneath them and they all immediately go mute, looking straight down, tense. Below them, everything was still... the air was dead.
A nasty screech is heard as the light dims immediately back and a creature with sharp claws and as if made of smoke, leaps from the shadows of their own tree and at Margo. It’s claws seem like the talons of a bird, swooping to claw out its prey. She is petrified. Lyon tackles it, morphing into a werewolf as he falls. Margo simply falls back too at the surprise, Millie morphing once again. Things were going wrong.
The creature simmer into smoke and changed to face him as they fall. But, too late. Lyon crushes into the ground at the end of the fall. The creature breaks apart into coal. Looking up he watch the other girls fall, landing close to him. Millie’s had an audible thud, snarling and ready for the next attack. Margo simple landed with ease and grace and, panicking, steps back between them.
Lyon growls and Margo starts to sprint, her first step making 3 smoke, slender figures jump out from the ground. Though made of smoke, they seemed to have a body… a dark slender body worth of Tim Burton’s dreams. Yet worse, their talon claws seemed sharper than any blade and their body seemed to constantly fight fading away and keeping a shape. Margo screams, closing her eyes, waiting for her body to be teared apart. It never came. Lyon and Millie take turns clawing and crushing each, bits of coal rolling at their death.
She felt so useless, a damsel in distress. But she had no time to sulk as a blood stained Lyon pulls her forward, his blood. She runs. The ground behind her shaking, more creature spawning up. Her head throbbed... her heart raced. It wasn't normal...it wasn't control. She was slipping...into the darkness... into the primal state she had been just before.
Margo watches as time slows down, she watches as a dark figure rises from her feet, as she swings her claws and slashes it through. It was like breaking wood...and bone. It felt good.
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