Edited by Penn Lady
This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved.
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We are the Benandanti. In the earliest days, the moon sang to us our purpose. Protect. Protect our brothers and sisters, the tribe, the village, the township. However large or small the protectorate was, our sacred duty was to guard it. We guarded from witches who had given themselves over to the darkness, from the creatures of shadows who preyed upon the light, and even against our own brethren who were not of one skin. Regardless of what their shifted shape might be. Any who decided the path of malevolence was preferable were our sworn enemies.
We were children of the moon, the good walkers, and in the time of the one God, the hounds of God. It mattered not to us. We knew our duty and kept to it. Then the followers of the carpenter's son turned on us. After centuries of faithful service, we were condemned with our enemies and set to the lash, the torture, the gallows, and the pyre. Despite our powers, despite running on either two legs or four, we were mortal. Our flesh and fur burned to sate the need of the Holy Church to be the sole power.
But the moon protected us, and the old powers nurtured us, and even the carpenter's son, horrified by the deeds of his followers, helped to hide us. Now fewer in number but more dedicated for it, we still keep the sacred trust. Never let the betrayal be on our heads!
Violet closed the ancient leather tome she'd been reading. She could feel the moon watching, waiting to see what her daughter would do. She could feel her body prepare for the change to wolf. She knew her pack was waiting. For tonight was Halloween and there was work waiting to be finished. She shuddered as her mind wound back to Halloween a year ago.
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"Flank it! Flank it!" Ballard yelled.
The werewolves of the pack responded.
Marcus, a black-furred, heavily-muscled mass, wove between the trees and slammed the creature hard. Tobias, smaller and lighter, brown and gray in color, came at it through a clearing in the trees from the other side. Though not as massive as the black wolf, he latched onto the creature with equal ferocity. Violet barred its path forward, covered by Ballard, intent on keeping it in the forest and close to the gateway. She forced herself not to watch as a small female pulled a broken wolf from the field of battle. Their efforts hardly seemed to faze the horror they faced.
Tall the thing was, and terrible to behold. It towered over the werewolves, who themselves ranged between six and seven feet tall when standing on their hind quarters. It was roughly human shaped, and looked male, but with long ape-like arms that hung nearly to the ground. One arm gripped a twisted club so tightly that the creature's own dark blood ran down the weapon.
Its head appeared too large for the neck, and lolled from side to side. Its mouth hung partially ajar, and the jaw jutted out past the upper lip with drool escaping down its chin. The eyes burned red and flame-like, with hatred that seemed to seep up from its very core. It stood on two legs, but they were bent backward, like a horse's, and ended in broad hooves. There was not a single hair on it. But that was a small thing compared to its missing skin.
It was comprised of raw flesh with no covering; dark blood coursed through yellowed veins, thick muscles rippled and writhed across the body. Beneath those an organ could be glimpsed here and there through the pulsating mass. The creature had a foul scent; it reeked of pestilence, rot, and death. The werewolves had no name for this creature, and but one duty: its destruction.
Violet bared her fangs, a snarl building deep in her chest, rising along with the bile this thing called up in her. She could not back down, could not give this thing way. She leaped for the torso, landing square on the chest and sinking her teeth into tis neck. She nearly retched from taste of its rancid flesh.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the giant swing the club at her. She dropped off a split second before the thing slammed itself in the chest. Part roar, part scream, the agonized, furious sound that escaped the giant resounded through the woods. It glared down to where Violet stood on the ground howling her challenge.
The creature tried to raise a hoof to attack the defiant she-wolf, but found the movement harried by the attackers at its flanks. It swung the club high into the air and brought it down in a vicious arc. So much force was in the strike that the club splintered when it struck the ground where Violet had been moments before. It stared at the broken weapon for a moment, then screamed out again in fury. With a savage kick to either side it dislodged the clinging wolves and focused its attention on one particular female.
Violet backed away as the giant reached for her. Big it might be, but it was also slow. She darted out of the way as the hand reached her level, then pounced back on it. She bit deep and dug in. Ballard leaped over both of them and landed on the thing's back. He rent the back open, spilling blood and sending muscle tissue flying.
With a shriek the creature stood upright, attempting to throw off the attacking werewolves. The flesh of the hand came away in Violet's jaws and she spat it to the ground. The thing twisted and bent and weaved in frantic motion, desperate to dislodge the attackers. It slammed back into a tree, dislodging Ballard who fell to the ground, stunned.
The two wolves that had been on the legs loped over to Violet.
"Now what?" Marcus asked.
Violet didn't take her eyes off their adversary. "We can't let it out of these woods. We have to drive it back through the veil before dawn."
Tobias looked towards the east. The sky was graying; there wasn't much time left. "As you say."
As Marcus and Tobias prepared again to attack, the small female rejoined them from the fallen wolf's side. She could not bring herself to look up at any of them, but kept her head down and awaited direction. They all understood what had happened.
With an enraged snarl, Marcus dashed at the their foe, savaging anything he could get his teeth or claws on. Tobias, no less angry but more patient then his pack mate, sidled along the creature's blind side and waited for his opportunity. The moment presented itself when the creature turned to deal with Marcus. Tobias lunged for the open side and bore down for all he was worth.
Violet sent Socorro to check Ballard, the pack's beta and Socorro's mate. Violet sparred a moment for a brief prayer that Socorro would find her mate well, then went back to the matter at hand. She watched as the two males harried the thing. Hatred seethed in her heart. She squatted down low to the ground, backed up a few paces, then hurled herself towards the thing. She struck it square in the chest and proceeded to rend it open in the front.
Violet's sudden attack sent the creature teetering backwards. Its exaggerated arms windmilled in an attempt to remain upright and it stumbled as two male wolves snapped at its legs. Once it had regained its balance, it reached for the female on its chest and managed to pull her off. It regarded her with open hostility, and seemed to be considering what it might do next. It never got a chance to make its decision.
Marcus moved in; he grasped the thin calf, between the hoof and the first bend of the leg in his mouth and bit down hard. The bones snapped and the creature fell backwards.
It fell through several trees, opening the wounds on its back even further. The lolling head struck the ground and bounced up once before striking again. Violet worked her way out of the weakening grasp and got to the ground. She rose up in her bipedal stance and gestured to the other two.
"Come on, while its down, we drag it back." Violet wrapped both her arms around one of the creature's. Tobias came in on her side and grabbed the same arm. Marcus grabbed the other and they dragged the thing down a hill and to a faint distortion in the air.
