Tara stared at the hulking brute chained to the stonewall of her parents' house. It was still a little bit like Caveson. It had his arms, his green eyes, his stomach but they were larger and more beast now. His whole body was covered in bristles, thick like that of a hog and black. It was deformed, the legs of a man mixed with that of some unholy thing, muscled and rippling as it strained against the thick iron that held it. Those powerful legs. The ones it had used to carry off a child like a slaughtered lamb. Tara couldn't bear to think about it. She had to get Caveson back.
The brute glowered at her, its teeth bared as if it would snap its jaws at the first opportunity and its eyes glowing in the candlelight. Its eyes were so much like Caveson's but they were full of evil, like looking into the eyes of a snake. Those eyes wanted nothing but to tear things apart.
Caveson had spent the night of winter solstice away from everyone else in the village. He almost never participated in the festivities, the drinking and dancing. Instead, he was always alone in ritual, deep in the woods. He would never talk about it. He would just come home, hold Tara tight, and tell her how much he missed her, even though it was but a short time. This time was different. When Tara woke up, still reeling from the night before he was not there. He didn't arrive until later that day, crawling half naked out of the dark forest, scratched by branches and eaten by insects.
"I did it!" He told her. "I have drunk from a wolf's footprint." He then went into the house and went to sleep. The message had seemed cryptic at first but now she understood. There had been a change in him that day.
Caveson was a necromancer, a black magician. A few people in the village knew and would come to him for magical favors that the local healers and priests would refuse to grant. Tara paid it no mind because she knew that Caveson would not deliberately harm another person. He always warned those whom he helped that they should be careful what they wish for. Often they would return, begging him to lift the spell that they themselves had requested and he would, laughing the whole time at the chaos those foolish people had caused.
Tara loved Caveson and knew he loved her so she ignored his often-dark demeanor and tendency to seek out the most barren reaches of the spiritual world. Besides, He had healed many, including herself when they got sick and granted discretion to village girls when they came to him crying and pregnant, fearing the retribution of church or parents. All it took was a dose of his special tea and the problem was solved. They could go home and begin their lives again.
Now Caveson was gone and the beast was all that remained. When she walked too close it shot out a hairy, powerful arm that slammed against the thick chain. She had to be sure. Tara stepped closer and the beast began to rage, Crashing into the chains. They held for now and it couldn't reach her. The chains were cold iron, set into stone with huge bolts. Caveson had designed with the help of a smith, and for good reason. The beast was so powerful. Its hairy arms and legs had muscles like twisted iron and its jaws were a jagged deathtrap.
Tara stepped just out of reach of those arms and jaws, which snapped at the air in front of her face. It used to be Caveson's beautiful mouth and chin, which he dutifully shaved for her every day even though she knew he hated to. It was now the distended maw of a wolf, full of fangs and covered in bristles. The heat of its breath assaulted her and its eyes continued their heartless stare.
Caveson had begun to run away at night. Tara never understood, but assumed it had been something to do with his magic. He was always observing stars and moon phases. At first, his odd behavior was even a little exciting. He would go during the night and return at daybreak. When he did, he would take her in their bed. He was rough and wild, unlike before, biting and holding her down as he forced himself inside her. He tore at her nightgown and licked wherever he could expose some flesh. Her nipples would go hard at his breath when he mauled her. He would take her hard and fast and growl when he came inside her. She would come too, usually when she heard him snarling and felt him pounding her inside, ravenous.
Then there was the blood. Caveson had gone out on the night of a full moon and like before he came home in a fury, unkempt and dirty. He had crawled into bed where she was waiting, already excited, awaiting the ravage. Ravage he did and she loved it, until in the morning light she looked at his bared teeth and saw that they were stained with blood. Tara screamed for her love to stop but he refused. He rolled her onto her stomach and held her face down, crushing the back of her neck. He parted her pretty round ass and held her screaming as he mounted and forced his raging cock into her pussy from behind. The head of his cock touched her special place inside and her ravaged pussy immediately became wet, even though she begged him to stop. She came as he punished her, eyes gleaming as he rammed deep inside. She was afraid this time, terribly afraid. It started to hurt and she cried out in pain but he still wouldn't stop.
Finally, he growled and held his hard cock in deep, stretching her as he came. She could feel his cock throb and the cum gushing inside of her. Afterward she cried as he slept next to her.
When he awoke, he had no memory of coming home or the attack. He became quiet when she told him, sobbing, about the blood in his mouth and what he had done. Caveson was never one to cry, but his eyes showed tears as he held her and he did not speak.
It was on that same day, a rider from town showed at the door. It was Grim, the smith's apprentice and Caveson's good friend. He had come wanting a protective spell for his daughter. Caveson had laughed and told Grim that the only protective spell he needed was a big stick to beat the boys that came nosing about. Grim shook his head and told the tale of the Beast.
Animals had been disappearing lately, and a few people had blamed a wolf, but that all had changed when the wolf had torn the shutters off a window with paws as big as a man's hand and dragged away a village child. The town was in an uproar and everyone was afraid. Many sent their children to the church fearing the Devil himself was upon them. Caveson made Grim a special talisman of pure silver in the shape of a wolf's head and told him to give it to his daughter. In exchange, he asked Grim to build him some heavy chains and shackles of black iron, too large for a normal man's wrists and ankles. He also asked for a special collar with spikes on the inside.
He swore to Grim that he would make sure no beast ever terrorized the town again. What he didn't tell Grim was that it would be Caveson himself locked in those chains, ferocious and deadly.
Tara was shocked when at the rise of a full moon; Caveson put the chains on himself. He sat in the corner, shackles hanging loosely, chained to the wall and sent Tara away, ordering her not to come into the room for any reason.
The sun began to set and Tara became afraid. The room echoed with choked screams and the sick sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone. When Caveson's screams became a hideous roar, she stormed into the room to find not Caveson, but the Beast itself leering at her, its breath coming in growls and steaming from its nose. It was like a wolf, larger than a man and standing on its haunches. The torso of the creature was still mostly human and made of the same powerful muscle as the legs and arms. The face however was indeed wolf like. A long snout and ragged, pointed ears covered in the thick fur that showed on the rest of its body. It grinned at her with cruel fangs and let out a howl that would curdle the blood of the most stalwart human being.
Tara ran from the room and hid in her bed, weeping at what had become of her Caveson. In the morning, she awoke to find him in bed with her. He was not the beast, but Caveson. Instead of ravaging her, he slept with a fever and couldn't speak for most of the day. As the evening approached, he finally rolled over and spoke to her.
