Nightshade: A SimLit | Chapter 112: Hungry Like The Wolf

 

"They say on the night of the full moon, people who set foot in these woods never walk back out. No one knows what happens to them. There isn't any civilization near Moonwood; the town at the heart of it is long abandoned and beyond it is only neverending miles of forest. If they scream, no one hears them. If they run, there's nowhere to go. They die here, alone, with only the distant howls of wolves to lull them into their oblivion... but some say those wolves are the cause of it. Rumors of werewolves have been uttered among campers for decades, along with rare reports of sightings. Are they really just rumors...

...or are campers really being torn apart limb by limb by ravenous wolf-men?" Alexander's grand gestures failed to save his embarrassingly poor acting. "Let's see if we find out and live to tell the tale!"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Okay, when you said you were doing a spooky campfire story I knew it would be bad, but this is ridiculous."

"If there were werewolves here to tear us apart, we would smell them," Onyx muttered.

"What? You think I'm fooling around? This stuff is true, I read about it online before we came here!"

She snickered. "Wait, wait, let me get this straight -- you knowingly brought us here to get eaten alive by werewolves, then?" 

"No, the camping trip was Onyx's idea, remember?"

"You're still saying you read that we'd die if we came here on a full moon and didn't bother mentioning it," Onyx stated. 

"Okay, look, the werewolves are just rumors!" He threw his hands up in surrender. 

"That's it, I'm going to get some more firewood." Amelia stood up with a frustrated sigh, marching off to the edge of the woods behind him. 

"You might not believe me now, but you'll change your mind when a hungry wolf finds you out there!" When she didn't respond, Alexander turned his attention to Onyx. "Have you ever met one?"

"What, a werewolf?" Onyx raised an eyebrow, considering the question. "No, not that I'm aware of. My mother did and she despised them. She'd tell me stories about them as a kid that were probably half-truths at best, but I took heed to her warnings anyway."

"Really? What'd she tell you?" His interest was piqued. 

"She said they're all around ten feet tall when they stand on their hind legs, if you're going from their toes to the tips of their ears," he began with a purposely ominous tone, "and they're covered in fur too thick for a vampire to bite through -- double-coated. They've got claws the length of your fingers, sharp like razors, but they still don't compare to their teeth. Vampires have a set of fangs and otherwise normal teeth. Werewolves have a mouth full of knives, meant for ripping and chewing your flesh..."

Alexander fidgeted in his seat. "But that's an exaggeration, right?"

"I know what isn't an exaggeration." Onyx leaned forward in his chair, meeting his gaze, red eyes aglow in the darkness. "Like us, they're built for hunting. They can smell you for miles... under the light of the full moon, they're silent and powerful killers. You'll never know they're coming until it's too late."

When he opened his mouth to respond, a twig behind him snapped.

"W-What was--"

"GRRRRAWR!" A creature behind him snarled as hands -- claws? -- gripped his shoulders, digging into the flesh beneath his shirt just enough to prick at his skin before he leapt from his seat, yelping and whirling to face his aggressor --

-- only to be met with the hysterical laughter of his heartless, evil, wretched sister. "Got you!"

"What the hell, Amelia!? That wasn't funny!" Alexander whined.

"Yeah? Then why's Onyx laughing?"

"I'm not laughing!" Onyx wheezed.

"Wheezing counts as laughing."

Alexander groaned, trudging toward the tent. "Both of you shut up, I'm going to sleep!" 

"But I thought you wanted scary werewolf stories," Amelia teased.

"Sometimes, I really hate you," he muttered.

"Aww, I love you too."

Unfortunately, tent doors couldn't slam, but he closed it as aggressively as possible and yanked the zipper closed in one swift motion to emphasize his point. With one last snicker, Amelia returned to Onyx, unable to wipe the smirk off of her face. "You ready to get some sleep, too? If he'll let us in the tent?"

"Personally, I was enjoying an excuse to stay up late." He stood, wandering over to the open bed of the truck they'd driven to the campsite in. "Maybe we could grab a blanket and lay under the stars for a while..."

Amelia laughed. "And let the werewolves get us?" 

 "I'm sure you'd protect me if they tried," Onyx replied with a playful smile, sitting on the edge and patting the space beside him.

"Of course I would." She obliged, perching next to him. "You're right, you know. The tent can wait. It'd be nice to have some privacy for once..."

"Privacy," he repeated. "When do we ever get any time to ourselves nowadays?"

"We have time right now," Amelia softly responded. Her hand came to base of his neck as she turned to face him, fingers lightly trailing up the side of his throat until they rested on his jaw. Strong arms pulled her closer, and she smirked, stroking the skin beneath her fingertips. 

"Don't give me that look..."

"What look?"

Onyx's eyes, alight with a playful spark, met her hungry ones. "Like you're the big bad wolf he was warning me about."

Amelia moved even closer, straddling his lap with a leg on either side of him. "And what if I am?" 

He was like prey; caught, being stared down by the ravenous wolf that was ready to devour him alive -- and he had no intentions of escaping. "Then at least kill me softly..."

She snickered. "That was corny. I should kill you painfully for that."

"Stop making fun of my flirting and kiss me."

She was left without a real choice as his hand tangled loosely into her hair, pushing her closer to meet him in a kiss. With an approving hum, she leaned into it, savoring the contrast between his warm lips and the cool night breeze. With no one else around and nothing to distract them, save for the soft songs of the cicadas, her senses indulged themselves in every last detail of the moment -- the fingers tousling her hair, the pinch of his fangs grazing her lower lip, the slightly-scratchy fabric of the blanket beneath her knees, the beat of her heart in her chest that only thrummed faster with every touch. If there ever were perfect moments in life, they were the ones like this.

"I love you," he sighed as they parted, lying back and tugging her down with him until they were both comfortably outstretched in the truck bed. 

"I love you too," Amelia replied, propping her head on his chest and her feet on the edge of the bed. "Remember when we'd sneak out at night as kids? How sometimes we'd just stare up at the sky together, and you'd tell me all the constellations I didn't know?"

"Yeah," he softly chuckled, "sometimes I miss those days. The world is so simple when you're young..."

She glanced up at him. "Simple or not, I don't miss it. I'd never go back to the beginning now that we've come so far."

"Even if it meant there was something in our lives you could change?" 

The corners of her lips upturned into a fond smile. "Why would I change my life when it's everything I ever dreamed it would be?"

_____

Nestled in the safety of the tent, it should have been easy to forget all about the notion of hungry werewolves lurking in the woods, but Onyx found himself to be restless. Maybe it was the periodic howling of the wind that reminded him of their rumored presence, or a twig snapping the moment he'd nearly drifted off for the umpteenth time that night, the sinking feeling of eyes that weren't there boring into his body -- it didn't matter which was the answer, because he certainly wasn't getting any sleep regardless. Deciding to take a stroll and clear his mind in hopes it would soothe his nerves, he crawled to the door flap and emerged cautiously from the tent. 

Snap.

It was close; too close, but not beneath his feet. 

On alert, his back straightened as he stepped out of the tent. "Hello?" He called, receiving only an eerie silence in response. The air was uncomfortably thick. "Can't believe I'm letting Alexander get to me," he grumbled to himself with a disapproving shake of his head. His eyes were off of the forest for only a split second when he moved to return to the tent -- one second too long.

A blurred mass of black fur seized him in its claws, blending near seamlessly into the darkness aside from the glowing red eyes that mirrored his own. The tight grip on his throat left him helpless to do much else but choke out a pathetic attempt at a startled cry.

It snarled, and he returned its aggression with equal enthusiasm. The wolf's scent flooded his senses; a strong and vile musk that made his stomach churn. The grip on his throat tightened, claws now pricking into the sensitive flesh. Onyx was strong, but the werewolf was stronger.

A mixture of rage and dread ran cold through his veins. Drool dripped from the wolf's jowls, teeth that looked strong enough to snap bones bore as though it was ready to bite. Onyx's hands shot up to desperately pry himself from its vice grip to no avail, and despite his continuing to thrash and kick at nothing in the air, he almost began to accept that he dangled completely at the creature's mercy -- mercy it certainly lacked. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts that he didn't have time to contemplate. He could use his dark form and fight, but would it be enough? He'd never encountered a werewolf. He knew nothing about their capabilities. He had no idea how powerful his opponent would be. There was also the option of figuring out the best vampire power to use to gain the upper hand within the next five seconds or less that it would take for the werewolf to lunge and rip his throat out--

"Onyx!"

Vaguely aware that the creature must have let go, he hit the ground hard, disoriented and shaken. The sound of a familiar voice and the vibration of approaching footsteps alerted him to the worst-case scenario -- Amelia and Alexander were marching straight toward their execution. 

"Run," was all he could manage to rasp.

"I told you there were werewolves in these woods!" Alexander exclaimed, coming to a halt a short distance away from the scene. The wolf turned its attention to him, claws extended and gaze locked on its next victim. 

Amelia wasn't far behind him. "I don't think right now is a good time for I-told-you-so!"

It snarled.

"Yeah, maybe you're right--"

Growls that belonged to neither the werewolf nor Onyx interrupted his sentence. "Greg!"

The wolf -- apparently Greg -- dropped to all fours, glaring sharply at the two others that emerged into the small clearing. The grey one, larger and stronger than the brown-furred canine, returned the look just as fiercely. Her tail was held high and her hackles raised in a clear display of aggression that put Onyx even more on edge. He scrambled backward, hoping to find enough purchase somewhere on the ground to get back on his feet. 

"There's no running now. We're surrounded," Alexander whispered, exchanging a nervous glance with Amelia. 

"Then we stay and fight," she decided.

The she-wolf rose to two legs. She was tall, and despite the layer of fur covering her body, very evidently muscular. 

His eyes were as wide as saucers. "A-Are you out of your mind? We can't!"

The desperate attempt to reason with her was, as usual, futile.

Amelia lunged forward with vampiric speed, fist clenched and aimed for the grey wolf's muzzle. Her fingers were so close that she felt the whiskers -- werewolves had whiskers? -- brush against her knuckles, but the creature narrowly evaded the blow, leaping backward and just out of reach at the last moment.

"Wait, we're trying to help you!" The she-wolf barked, regaining her balance.

Amelia growled lowly, already poised to strike again. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?"

"Must be if you're picking a fight with me," she quipped. The snark remark only earned her another attack, this time sending her toppling to the ground. 

The brown wolf whimpered. "Rory!"

 

Amelia pinned her down, shifting all her weight onto the forearm that pressed into the fur of her chest.

"Hey, not bad for such a small little vampire." Rory grinned. "You lose your training fangs yet?"

"Make fun of me all you want, but at least I don't lick my butt!" She retorted.

The grin gave way to a deviant smirk. "Yeah? Well, maybe after I'm done licking mine, I'll--"

"Shut up!"

Rory shielded herself from the barrage of punches as best she could, though without the help of dark form or powers, the vampire might as well have been throwing pebbles at her. The two wrestled and scuffled with no clear winner in sight; Amelia being far too reckless in her anger to gain a true upper hand and Rory disinterested in causing any significant harm. Greg, however, did not share her sentiment. He lunged at Onyx once more, this time being met with a better fight, and amidst all the chaos surrounding him, Alexander had no better idea than to try taking down the remaining threat. His sights set on the shaggy brown wolf that, like him, watched the scene at an utter loss for what to do. 

The wolf tensed, his pricked ear pinned back and the floppy one flattened. "Uhh, Rory, the scrawny one's looking at me weird!"

"Scrawny!? You're one to talk!" Alexander snapped.

"And he's mad," the wolf added nervously.

Rory managed to land a blow that distracted Amelia long enough to respond. "Just run, Lou, I'll deal with this!"

"No, I can't leave you--"

"Enough!" Alexander shoved the wolf to the ground, eliciting a yelp as it cowered and pressed a back paw against him, desperate to keep him from coming any closer. "If you want out of here in one piece, you'll tell your friends to stand down!"

"D-Don't hurt me, I'm not the enemy here!" Lou whimpered. "Greg isn't part of our pack! He's a problem for everyone--"

"I'll be a problem for everyone if those mutts hurt my family--"

Amelia's sharp cry disrupted their argument. No sooner than she'd fought her way to her feet, Rory was slamming her back onto the ground. Now pinned beneath the wolf's massive frame, there was no escaping the iron grip no matter how hard she thrashed and squirmed. 

It was clearly a losing battle, but Alexander's panic drowned out what little sense of rationality he had. He lunged for the brown wolf beneath him, fangs aimed straight for his fur-covered throat. Lou dodged, scurrying from beneath him and back onto his paws with a yowl. Their eyes met, filled with both anger and fear, neither knowing what to do next. Alexander growled, expecting Lou to surrender without a fight; instead, he attacked with a well-aimed paw to the jaw.

Unsurprisingly, the punch was enough to send him toppling like a domino. Alexander hissed when he made contact with the ground. A dull ache radiated through his skull and traveled downward to the rest of his body; disoriented, he noticed the world blurring around him more than the pain. 

Lou's ears pinned back. The vampire was completely still, eyes closed and limbs slack. "Uhh... Rory? Roooory, I think I killed him!"

The surge of panic his words caused gave Amelia the strength to struggle harder, but Rory was unrelenting; when she found herself pinned into a checkmate, she finally stopped fighting back enough to allow the wolf to speak.

"Shhh," Rory hushed her, "you'll make it out of here in one piece if you just trust me."

Trust her? How was she supposed to trust her? She didn't have time to figure out the answer.

 

The she-wolf lunged without warning and her world began to fade, the distant sound of Onyx's scream lulling her into unconsciousness.

__________

Amelia woke with a start. The first thing her senses became aware of was the dull, throbbing pain in every muscle and joint in her body. She sat up, grimacing, as her eyes darted around to intake their surroundings: the shells of once occupied industrial buildings surrounded by chain-link fencing; a dingy trailer covered in poor quality graffiti; a barely-lit bonfire made mostly of garbage — realistically, she was in the middle of nowhere, which was exactly where she expected the werewolves would want her to be. Kidnapping? Check. Unsettling abandoned town? Check. What was next? Vampire slaying? 

“You’re awake.”

Her gaze finally fell onto the figure in front of her. The voice was instantly recognizable from her earlier encounter. Rory, now far less canine in appearance, glanced over her shoulder, running claw-like nails through her tousled blue mullet before crossing her arms. “What’s the matter,” she continued, “wolf got your tongue?”

She bit her tongue and went with addressing the most urgent matter at hand rather than the snarky remark. “Where am I?“

Rory cocked an eyebrow. “You’re in Moonwood Mill. This is the Wildfangs’ territory, which means that I, as their alpha, am being very generous right now by letting you and your vampiric friends stay here.”

Amelia scanned the area, more coherently this time, her shoulders releasing tension she didn’t even know they’d been holding at the sight of Onyx and Alexander. “Why did you attack us?“

“We didn’t. You attacked us,” Rory growled, “and we were still feeling nice enough to bring you here and patch you up.”

“But the big wolf with the red eyes—“

“Was Greg,” she finished for her. “He’s everyone’s enemy. Even ours.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Onyx said, his voice slightly hoarse. “I saw them attack him before I blacked out. They helped us, whatever that’s worth when it comes to werewolves.”

Amelia hesitated. “How do I know we can really trust you?”

Rory scoffed, casually approaching the group. “Cause you’re all still breathing and not minced meat on Greg’s dinner plate.”

“Okay, seriously, that’s enough!” Lou barked, stepping forward alongside the alpha. “We’ve all got a common enemy here, right? It isn’t each other. Why are we the ones fighting?”

"Lou, you know how vampires are," she warned.

"How vampires are?" Onyx questioned. "I'm sorry, but we weren't the ones that started all of this!"

"Uh, is now a bad time to ask a question?" Alexander inquired. "Because there's something here I'm really not grasping."

Rory eyed him. "What is it?"

"Why do vampires and werewolves hate each other?"

"That's a funny question coming from a vampire," she muttered.

"Turned, not born," he said. "I don't know whatever the history is between our species. I guess I never cared to learn."

"...I don't know either," Amelia admitted. "Why do we hate each other?"

She exchanged conflicting glances with Onyx, knowing they would tell two very different sides to two very different stories. 

"Explaining that would be a long story," Onyx said.

Alexander leaned back against a plank of wood behind him. "Well, we're listening."

He sighed. "Vampires and werewolves weren't always enemies. In fact, we're brothers of sorts. Two sides of the same coin."

"What do you mean?" Amelia asked.

"Well, no one really knows the true origin of Magic, how it was harnessed, or why it was created. Maybe it always existed, or maybe it came to be," he began, "but many supernatural beings assume it's a gift from a higher power. Humanity has always seen it as a force against nature, but it's a force of nature."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "A higher power? Like... a god or something?"

"Essentially," Onyx nodded. 

"...Right. Okay, so what does this have to do with vampires and werewolves being enemies?"

"The moon grants our existence, as vampires, to us as well as werewolves," he continued explaining. "Mermaids and Sirens draw their power from the sea; Fairies and PlantSims harness the sun, and Aliens and Spellcasters are of the stars. Centuries ago, these mystical forces joined to create the Realm of Magic, ruled by three appointed Sages. Many Supernaturals lived there, safe from the human realm. However, as time went on, their lust for power grew. Each occult wanted their kind to be represented in a position of power as a Sage. They turned against one another, and one thousand years ago, a war broke out among them. There were no winners — because of their foolishness, the Realm of Magic began to fall apart, and with it their magic weakened. The only thing holding what’s left of it together is a delicate balance of the Sages’ magic. With their united home destroyed, Supernaturals had no choice but to scatter themselves in the human world. Since the war, most of them made amends with each other and have no trouble coexisting in harmony, especially now that humans are a far more major common enemy. But… not werewolves and vampires.”

“Werewolves were ready to make peace. Vampires were the ones who refused to," Rory argued.

“There are two sides to every story," Amelia said. 

"But there's only one truth," Alexander added, "so which is it?"

"Forgotten Hollow was eventually founded by Count Vladislaus Straud as the united home of both vampires and werewolves," Rory explained. "We were all creatures of the night, simultaneously human and beast, drawing our power from the moon. We hunted together, found mates in each other, and even raised hybrid families together. Vladislaus, however, never saw wolves as his equal. Our Alpha at the time challenged his corrupt leadership, and as a result, another war began -- this time solely between wolf and vampire. Our Alpha was killed by Vladislaus himself. After he was slain, werewolves were permanently exiled from Forgotten Hollow. Vampires destroyed our ancestors' lives. For that, we've never forgiven them."

"Oh," Amelia muttered, feeling a little uneasy knowing just how deep the bad blood between them ran. "I never knew. I'm sorry. It probably doesn't mean much coming from a vampire, but--"

"Why keep hanging onto a grudge?" Alexander interrupted. "You weren't alive for any of that. I'm assuming most vampires and werewolves around today weren't, either. Is it really doing you any good to hate each other?"

"Well-- I-- it's..." Rory fumbled for a convincing answer. "...it's not that easy."

"Maybe he has a point," Lou suggested. "What if there are some vampires that aren't so bad? These guys seem harmless enough, right?"

With a sigh, she glanced at the other werewolves resting quietly near the bonfire. "How about this? We'll take a vote. All in favor of eating the vampires, raise a paw."

"Rory!" Lou whined.

She grinned. "Sorry. All in favor of letting these and only these vampires live, raise a paw."

The wolves, who had been quiet the whole time, exchanged glances before responding.

"Tala?" The black wolf nodded toward her.

"Well, I suppose we have to let them go, don't we?" The gray wolf shrugged, glancing at Rory. "Lou and Fang won't be any use in getting rid of them. They can hardly kill prey. With just us two, we'd be outnumbered without the rest of the Wildfangs here."

"Hmm, point." Rory crossed her arms.

Alexander gawked. "Are you really going to discuss whether or not you should kill us right to our faces?"

Lou pouted. "Hey! What do you mean I won't be any use?"

Fang's tail wagged. "If the Wildfangs could befriend us, being rogue outcasts that most packs wouldn't trust, why couldn't they befriend rogue vampires? They're not with the rest of them. They don't seem as bad, at least. They don't smell as bad, either."

"Gee, thanks," Alexander muttered.

Onyx stood with a wince, having nearly forgotten how banged up he was. Cautiously, he stepped closer to the pack's alpha. "How about a truce? Just for tonight? We'll leave in the morning."

Rory hummed, thoughtfully considering the offer. "...fine, truce, but only for tonight."

"Deal," he replied, glancing over at the rest of the group. "...you know, I think our... packs are already getting along just fine."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

"Oh, nothing..."

"Hey, Rory," Lou barked, "you've gotta come sniff this guy's butt!"

It was then that Alexander mentally vowed never to go camping again.