Night of the Luniacs
(The First Slaughter)
By Toneye Eyenot
Terrified, agonised screams echo throughout darkened lanes, and blood-soaked streets are littered with the mangled human debris. Survivors scramble for the presumed safety of indoors. There is no hiding… no escaping. This is our night. Our glorious night, awash with the radiance of the Moon at her fullest. A night I share with my lupine sisters and brothers, in a bloody orgy of murderous lunacy. Claude is our Alpha. A charismatic leader, both in human skin and in his true form. He saunters casually through the chaos, swatting nonchalantly at the frantic and pissweak prey like annoying insects, as the pack rampages through the insultingly named town of Wolfhaven.
Wolfhaven…grrrr. This place isn’t, and hasn’t been for a long time, a haven for our kind. The surrounding forest, our home for hundreds of years, has gradually been decimated and reduced in its splendour to nearly half by these parasitic humans. They have hunted and killed many of our brethren; in their quest for domination of a land that never belonged to them… so now they pay in blood and eviscerated gore.
I am Shona. A fourth generation, pureblood Lycan bitch. Tonight is an especially personal one for me. In fact, this raid is executed in honour of my fallen mother, Pharo. She is the latest casualty, and the unforgivable spark, that has ignited this hellish war on the human population of our territory. It won’t end here, either. Claude has shared his vision with the pack. It is a plan that will see the demise of the human race, and a welcome end to the raping of this wondrous planet. It begins here, right now, in Wolfhaven, and will spread like a plague such as never before seen.
* * *
A wretch stumbles and falls at my feet. The sweat of this thing beneath me reeks of fear and panic, intensified as I pin it to the ground under my paw. Mesmerised by the vengeful blaze in my eyes, it remains still, petrified. Only the desperate pounding of its weak heart betrays it as still living. As my glare burns through its face, my weight slowly pressing on the brittle ribcage, I imagine this one with an entirely different expression, as it parades through town with my dead mother held proudly aloft. My snarling breath hot on its face, it gags on a scream, as saliva drips from my jaw to hit the back of its throat. I revel in their fear, but that’s enough gloating with this prize. One by one, my claws penetrate the chest and then slowly, I drag down, opening it up from neck to groin. Its final vision is of my gaping maw, descending to tear the head from the struggling body.
We are one hundred strong, our pack alone. Seventy of us have descended upon Wolfhaven to exact our immediate revenge. The rest have been assigned with the task of carrying out Claude’s greater plan. Sent out in every direction, they are to spread this message of revolution to all our Wolfkind. Our Wolhaven pack, and our Alpha, Claude in particular, have a fierce reputation among the Lycans and Werewolves, all across the land and sea. Territorial pissing will be put aside, for the most part, as we spread our message of hate and the war on humanity begins. Wolfhaven is ground zero, as the mangled corpses continue to pile up. The injured, we leave, and move onto the next. They will heal, by the full moon they will turn, and they will either join us, or be torn to pieces by the pack.
The Lycan presence in the pack is still very strong, but that will change under Claude’s plan. I am beginning to wonder if that’s a good thing. The Wolfhaven pack is a merging of two. The Lycans of both packs bred vigorously, thus growing the Wolfhaven pack to a formidable size. The lesser, mixed blooded Werewolves are aggressively discouraged to breed within the pack. Claude is very vigilant about maintaining order amongst the hierarchy. Banishment and sometimes death the result if Werewolves are caught mating, and Claude enforces it personally, with a bloodsoaked claw. What does Claude know that the rest of us are unaware of? Doesn’t he see the inevitable outcome, when the balance of power tips and the half-casts outnumber the Pureblood? Our war on humanity will become a three sided battlefront, thus greatly weakening our cause. Our beloved Alpha is not stupid. He never does anything without careful planning and consideration. This couldn’t possibly have been an oversight on his behalf, so what exactly is his ‘Grand Plan’?
* * *
With each kill, the stench of hysteria mounts amongst the populace of Wolfhaven. The mounting hysteria, in turn, spurs the pack on with bloodlust abandon. There is truly no hope for any single one of these parasites, as we systematically hunt, rend, and continue on our murderous rampage. The dead are beginning to outnumber the living, and the screams of the few who manage to slip away from the outskirts of town sound through the night, as they are scented out and tracked down. It is imperative that nobody escape our vengeful raid. The element of surprise is a powerful advantage. Word must not spread within the human population of our strategy to spread, town by town, village by village. As our numbers swell and our territory expands, soon we will move into the cities to continue the eradication. As it stands now, the cities are victim only to the odd rogue Werewolf, or small and insignificant renegade packs. Braving the threat of detection in pursuit of an endless, tantalizing smorgasbord of human flesh, these lone wolves and rag tag packs with no real structure or direction present a threat to our plans. Without the discipline of an organised pack, they are enslaved to their hunger, and kill with abandon, jeopardising the widely held opinion that our kind are merely the product of vivid imaginations.
* * *
I pick up the scent of a small child, as it cowers beneath the corpse of its mother. Swiping the inert slab of decimated flesh and bones from its helpless spawn, I gaze upon it with malice for a few moments. Terror courses through its veins and I savour the moment. Slamming a vicious paw down on its head, I proceed to gorge on its guts. The tender, sweet flesh stirs my soul to rabid proportions, as I devour this morsel. Should I feel remorse? Hell no. Young and defenceless, this child may be, but I know what they become. I know exactly what they grow to be. Senseless, ignorant of the world they inhabit. Selfish and greedy, destructive and cruel. Humanity is the single most vile blight on this planet, and this small creature will only perpetuate the disease, if left to flourish and proliferate.
No sooner do I swallow my last mouthful, than a panicked young man of around twenty years comes tripping over the mother’s discarded corpse, to fall hands and knees at my side. I turn my head slowly, with a lupine leer of malice. This one could prove useful to the cause. He falls stiffly onto his side in submissive terror, eyes wide and mouth agape in a voiceless scream. My contemptuous growl rolls and turns in the pit of my stomach; reverberates through my chest to spill out onto the gore laden breeze, while this creature lays petrified. I would sooner have this thing for a meal, than allow it to turn. Tonight, in my eyes, is a mission of vengeance, but Claude had been very explicit in his orders for this raid. Who am I to disobey the alpha? I spring from the remains of the child I have just devoured, to land heavily on the prone human filth. Its silent scream suddenly finds a voice, as my bloodied fangs tear into its shoulder. It takes every ounce of my will to not keep tearing, but I rise from its mauled body and bound away, enraged by what was deprived of me, and now stirred into a frenzied search for one not so suited to my reluctant mercy. I am just getting started.
Surveying the street, I am struck with an ardent sense of urgency. The pickings grow slimmer by the moment. We had descended upon the populace in silence. Our numbers were easily enough to surround the small town completely. Our stealth and cunning leaving them vulnerable and completely unaware that these were to be the final minutes of their human lives. With a howl that tore through the night, like gravel rubbed between two plates of steel, at Claude’s command, the circle closed on Wolfhaven.
Seventy strong, we stormed the town. Nobody saw it coming. Nobody expected to see massive hulks of snarling, yipping fur, and gleaming, salivating fangs in every direction they turn. Claude had stayed back from the town, and near the trees. His command to strike would have just been taken by the townsfolk as the howl of an ordinary wolf, and paid no heed, as he rushed swiftly and silently through the night to join us in the slaughter. Every thirty or so feet around the perimeter, one of the pack would stay back, to run down any stray humans who manage to slip through the luniac circle of Death. The rest of us went in for the kill. There was no way in any Hell I was going to be waiting for scraps outside. Tonight is my night, more than anyone’s. We’ve all lost family before, but my mother was loved by all the pack. She had indeed, taken on the role as Mother to the Wolfhaven pack. There was that, plus the death of Pharo is still fresh in the minds and hearts of every pack member. The humans had played their final hand, and we were now biting it off.
The pungent smells of blood and eviscerated flesh, and the sight of small piles and scattered bodies of the dead and gravely wounded are assaulting my senses. I walk slowly through the corpse littered street. My mind is in turmoil. I need to calm down, but my craving to tear these things to shreds is overwhelming. I’m trying to regain some focus, and differentiate the smells and sounds of the already fallen from that of the ones who may still be in hiding.
Just as I begin to find some semblance of calm… there it is. I hear a whisper carried on the wind, from an upstairs window to my left. Instantly, I charge the building, bursting through the flimsy door and up the stairs. As I reach the top, I stop and listen. The air is cleaner in here and I breathe it slowly in through my nose. To the left… there’s somebody in that room. Several people, in fact, I pick up as I quietly approach the closed door. Standing for a moment at the door, to hear panicked whispering and quiet sobs, I clench my fists and hammer it clear across the spacious bedroom. The whispers turn to screaming, as my hulking form engulfs the splintered doorway.
I set my gaze around the room. There is an entire family holed up in here. Three generations of living, screaming flesh huddle in the furthest corner of the room. A grandfather and grandmother, a daughter in her mid to late twenties, her husband, who looks to be at least forty, and a little baby grandson, whose screams are louder than the rest of the family combined. The husband does his best to look brave, by stepping forward shakily in defence of his wife, child and the in laws. I push my way through the doorway and into the room to meet him. He stops advancing as I stand to near my full height. I still need to bow my head slightly beneath the high ceiling. I step towards this fool and give him a dismissive wave of my claws, taking half his face off, and sending him headfirst into the wall across the room. I will save you for later.
The grandparents futilely attempt to shield their daughter and her precious offspring from my advance. The old ones can perish. The child too. I am still undecided on the terrified young woman with her babe held tight in her arms. See what kind of fight she puts up. I will allow the husband to turn. He showed a bit of guts, so I won’t gorge on his. Leaning forward with a snarl, my face comes to within inches of the trembling old woman. Her husband punches me in the side. I let him. He screams at me to leave her alone and continues to land punches wherever he can land them. As you wish, you dried up piece of tough meat. Grabbing him by the head, I easily tear him out of his wife’s arms and into my grasp, where I bite down on his neck. His wife is hysterical and keeps running to help her husband and back again to shield her daughter and grandchild, whilst I snap his collarbone in my powerful jaws, and dig my claws into his stomach, tearing him open and spilling guts on the floor in front of what remains of his family. Rending the flesh from chest and shoulder, I toss the old meat aside.
All the while, my eyes have been locked on the young mother, who is crying in a sing song voice and shaking uncontrollably with horror, yet still clutching that baby to her tight. I will allow you to turn too, but I am sorry, that child is mine. Without averting my stare, I reach for the now petrified grandmother. Grabbing my claws into her shoulders, I pull her around to stand before me, and proceed to rip out her throat. The girl’s cry turns into a demented wail that just keeps rising in pitch and volume. Just as it begins to make the transformation into a full blown scream, I throw the old woman on the floor, turn and slash my claws across the top of the mother’s back. She becomes airborne for a few feet across the room, and loses her grip on the child, sprawling out face down on the floor. I pick up the screaming infant by its head, just as the mother rolls onto her back. I leer at her for several moments, challenging her to come and rescue her baby, and she stares back, frozen and speechless.
I raise the child to eye level, still watching the mother. She tries to say something but the words won’t come. I know she is pleading for her child’s life, but no mercy will be shown in Wolfhaven tonight. Tearing the infant in half in one bite, the mother screams a real scream, as the little leg bones snap and splinter between my teeth. One more bite and it’s gone, apart from the head, which I toss at the hysterical woman on the floor. This was very satisfying, and I thought I had run out of prey.
I turn and leave the devastated mother, exiting the bedroom and down the stairs. She has been marked and the moon is full. Come morning, she will be one of us, as will her husband when he wakes up. My return to the street is met with disappointment. My brothers and sisters sit around the piles of corpses, feeding. It seems there are none left to decimate after all. I pick up an amputated leg as I sit myself on the ground, and chew away at it thoughtfully.
The rage fades and I feel a proud confidence move in to take its place. Wolfhaven is ours. No-one escaped, the pack has grown, and the word is being spread. Soon the world will be our very own Wolfhaven. Tonight, my mother Pharo, Mother of the Pack, has been avenged.