Chapter 1
Dominique
Darkness surrounded the forest. There was silence in the glade. The forest floor was covered in blood and carnage. Bodies lay around with their eyes wide open in fear. A young boy sat behind a tree, shivering with cold and fear. Tears filled his eyes and he looked around, trying to see in the darkness.
Just a while ago, the forest had been filled with noises of howls and screams of pain. The clang of weapons resounded in the air, the growl of the wolves was matched by the sounds of gun shots. Now, it was erringly silent. The young boy crept out from his hiding space and slowly made his way to his cabin. A howl of pain, suddenly, rippled through the air. The young boy gasped and turned around and found himself face to face with a pair of glowing eyes.
The beast, once known for its beautiful fur coat, was covered in blood and mud. Its fangs were borne, blood dripping from them. The young boy stood there frozen, as the beast took another step forward. A gun shot rang from behind, and the beast howled in pain, as bullets pierced through its flesh. It pranced on the boy, grabbing him by his neck, like a mother cat carrying her cub. It ran through the forest, its powerful legs putting more and more distance between them and the gun.
The beast stopped when it spotted an old man walking towards them. It dropped the boy down and bowed in greeting. “Elder Lawson, I must return to the battle. Look after him,” it said, his voice a deep growl. The elderly man nodded and with surprising strength picked up the boy.
The boy finally found his voice and shouted, “NO, Dad! Dad!”
“Listen to me, I might not come back. You need to be strong. You need to protect this pack with your life,” the beast said, it’s piercing eyes, looking straight at the boy.
“No. Dad. I won’t let you go.” The boy wailed, squirming in the elder’s grip.
The beast silenced him with a roar. “Never! I repeat never, desert your pack. If they die, you die with them!” it growled. With that, it ran back into the battle, back towards where the sound of the bullets rang.
“No, Dad! Dad!” the boy shouted.
Dominique woke up gasping, his body covered in sweat. It was the same nightmare that had plagued him since he was five. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He got out of bed and walked out of his small cabin, into the forest. The cool breeze helped him calm down and sooth his aching heart.
“Another nightmare, young one?” a voice called out and Dominque turned around.
“Elder Lawson. How are you awake at this time?” Dominique asked. Elder Lawson was his mentor, the one who had raised him. He was an elderly man, with a long white beard and gnarled hands, his ancient face covered in wrinkles.
“I wanted to think and walking through the trees helps. What about you, Dominique? What keeps you awake?” Elder Lawson asked, smiling at his adopted son.
“Memories. Nightmares. It’s the anniversary of the great battle,” Dominque answered, his voice soft.
“Yes. That was indeed a very tragic event. A difficult day for everyone in this pack. Care to take a stroll with me?” the elder asked. Dominique gave a short nod and they both started walking in silence. The forest was filled with the sound of crickets, the hooting of the owls, alive with the night creatures.
Dominique found himself slowly walking towards the huge memorial stone that stood in the middle of the clearing. It carried the names of all the wolves killed in the great battle. His father’s name was at the very top, engraved deeply in the stone. They both stood there silently, each lost in his own memories.
“It is hard to believe it has been twenty years. It feels like yesterday. I can still see your father leading the charge against the humans, protecting his pack. Your father was truly a great leader. He did everything to stand with his people, no matter what happened," the elder said, his voice grave.
"How many did we lose that day? There are just twenty of us left, so many lives lost. So many children left orphaned. All because one of ours betrayed us,” Dominque said, his hands clenching into fists at the thought.
“Yes. That is perhaps what hurts the most. That all this was caused by one of our own,” the elder said.
“What thoughts have been keeping you awake, elder?” Domingue asked, changing the topic.
The elder became silent and then said, “I feel there is something afoot. Something very wrong. But they are perhaps the paranoia of an old man. Let us walk back.”
***
In the town, separated from the forest by a river, a man snuck through the dark and silent streets. In his arms he had a small bundle wrapped in a cloth, which he cradled tightly to his chest. He looked around, keeping his eyes peeled for any other human. He slowly crept out of the town gate, and made his way down the path, towards the river.
A boat was waiting for him, and he softly placed the bundle inside. He got in the boat and began to row, as the bundle began to softy wail and cry. “Shush…” the man whispered, placing a calming hand on it. He then continued to row, until he reached the opposing bank. He got out and dragged the boat to the shore and picked up the bundle.
The cloth had now unwrapped to reveal a small baby, hungrily suckling on his thumb. The man quietly crept into the forest, making his way to an ancient well nearby. He was careful not to make any sounds. The wolves had sharp ears, and this was their territory.
The well soon came into sight and the man walked over, gently placing the baby in the bucket. He then slowly turned the handle and let the bucket down. The baby whimpered but did not cry. The man continued to lower the bucket, waiting to hear the sound of it hitting the water, when a low growl vibrated through the air.
The man almost gasped and looking around, quickly ran away, leaving the baby hanging deep in the well.
Chapter 2
