A rabbit. A bloody rabbit. That's all it took to expose the most stealthy predator on Earth, the father of all werewolves, the first of them, the biggest, strongest, fastest. Able to approach his prey until it's at claws length and kill it without having it being aware it ever was in danger.
Sold off by a rabbit.
I had decided to stick around them a little longer, hoping to catch more informations about either that raid they were planning, or the organisation, or "Order" as they pompously called themselves. In that I had been rather successful. I hadn't learned when exactly the raid would happen, or how many would come with what weapons, but that guy, the older one was a true mine.
The younger one, barely an adult yet as it seemed, was apparently still in formation and so was asking a lot of questions to which the older guy eagerly answered, manifestly flattering his ego by bragging how powerful and great the Order was, how it's ramification were countless (yeah right…), rich (not enough to buy you more than a gun for three people uh), and talented (maybe it was because I was THE Alpha, but every hunter so far didn't last long).
But amongst all this cultish talk, I found a few interesting things. For example, they did have ramifications in several countries, and in many cities of each one. It also appeared that their goal was to track down and killed everything unnatural, or at least what they considered to be. Werewolves were just their division.
And most importantly, they had a powerful ally. Apparently the Order traced back centuries ago, when it was founded by the Vatican, with as sacred mission to "eliminate every monster created by Satan, every abomination that wasn't a human or an animal, because all these things are an insult to the will of the Creator, and should be cleansed from the world".
And it seemed they still answered to the Papal city nowadays.
I was meditating on that worrying thought when I accidentally dislodged a rabbit that, legitimately terrified by the predator I was, sprinted away in a concerto of twigs in leaves minor. Resulting into catching the hunters attention, right toward me.
If the young twink stayed frozen in disbelief, the old guy reacted in seconds.
"COME ON BOY !!" he yelled throwing himself at me, simultaneously drawing two small but deadly looking swords from sheaths attached to his back "Time to slay the fucker !!"
"Shit" I thought.
He swiped one blade at me horizontally while initiating a vertical arch with the other, anticipating the trajectory I would take to dodge the strike. It was fast, precise and determined, which led me to revise my opinion of the capacity of the hunters. It was obviously a very trained fighter, unlike the other three I fought.
The swords only cut the air.
Driven by the fighting instincts accumulated during milleniums of existence, I swiftly slid past the blade as water in the bed of the river, and propelling myself with my powerful legs, hurled passed the man but not without landing a deadly strike with my claws.
I landed midway between the young boy, pale as a dead and trembling like a leaf, and turned back expecting to see the hunter holding his guts in disbelief.
However, I had the bad surprise to see the man standing there, unharmed. His jacket was torn apart, but where should have been a bloody mess of flesh, there was a metallic sheet, bearing the trace of those steel-cutting claws of mine. That fucker wore a protection !!
The hunter had a dumbfounded look on his face, surely wondering how something so big could move so fast, but quickly focused on the fight.
The two predators we were were now being more careful, each one reevaluating what the other could do.
But in my mind, there was no question as who would come out of this alive. The bloodlust sang in my veins, I could feel my wolf, so perfectly merged with me snarl and scratch an imaginary ground. The feeling was quickly inflating in my chest, savagery, killer instincts, the thirst for battle, the cry for slaying an adversary.
Memories of past lives abruptly flooded my mind, fuelling my anger and cascading a knowledge I didn't know I had.
I was a werewolf, I had been for hundreds of lives and would be for hundreds more. The ancient cowards couldn't do more than chain me and my sister, but the moons had marched and we would soon awaken, we would break the seal !
I was Romulus, founder of Rome, father of the lycans, I was Horatius Cocles, who solely defended a bridge against an entire army ! Amongst the Vikings I was Leif Erikson, discoverer of Vinland, I was from all times and all places: the Pack Builder, the Unifier, I was fed with the milk of the wolf-goddess Lupa, I have been warrior and poet, leader and revolutionary, howler to the moon, runner of the lands. I was Romulus, and this man would die.
I swirled toward my adversary, jaws open, teeth shining with deadly purposes, aiming for the throat. He only owed luck for his survival, because as fast as he was, I was faster. He tumbled by pure chance, fell and immediately stood back and attacked with a roar. Missed, missed. missed. None of his strike touched me. But each time my claws rushed forward, they drew blood.
I jumped, dodged, stroke, growled and laughed, the scent of his blood was filling the air, the bliss of fight was heightening ly senses, the adrenaline opening my mind.
I was a werewolf, I was the Alpha, I was the apex. Who could hope to stand to me ?
After a few minutes of intense confrontation, he was panting, sweating, and bleeding from a dozen of superficial wounds. I however, was unharmed safe for a scratch that was quickly healing.
But I felt respect for him.
This was the first time I fought in my life, or at least this one, but I somehow knew they were not many those who could last this long against me.
He grinned and I tensed. He knew his death was coming, I could see it in his eyes, but he wanted to take me with him. He wouldn't have the chance. I curled up, preparing for lethal and finishing jump, but out of nowhere pain exploded in my calve and all strength left it. I turned to see the young boy, a big knife in his hand plunged deep into the muscle, rendering my leg momentarily useless.
I had been so focused on the fight I hadn't realised he finally came out of his fear and sneaked up behind me. A painful reminder I was not yet who I used to be.
I grabbed him by the throat and neglectfully tossed him aside. I hadn't put much strength in the movement, but he flew half a dozen of meters before landing with a thump. Thump that I only heard, because at the moment I had grabbed him, my instinct went into full-mode. I had thrown him away while at the same time, initiating an arc with my arm.
And at the exact moment the hunter thought he was triumphing, my claws sliced his throat open.
For a moment he seemed suspended in the air, where his jump had led him, and on his face pride turned to incomprehension.
Then he crashed on the ground, made a few gargling sounds, and died.
I looked at his body as the thin boy was grunting and standing up.
The enemy was dead, his apprentice not a threat, I immediately felt all my warrior instincts leave me like water from a tank suddenly opened. The memories of lives blurred again, and within seconds my mind was back to James, a young werewolf with a great power but a lot to learn.
Licking a few drops of blood that had landed on my muzzle, I turned to the survivor, frozen in terror and disbelief.
"Y-Y-You killed him." He didn't sound like he could even imagine it. "You killed him… you killed him". He looked up and his eyes filled with tears and rage "I'M GONNA KILL YOU !!!" He screamed rushing toward me.
I intercepted him and lifted him like a puppy, letting him cry and kick uselessly at me. I understood his sorrow, and even if he was being rather annoying, I couldn't just let him like that, nor kill him. He had barley begun his apprenticeship, judging by what he said earlier, he wasn't as brainwashed as the other were. Yet. And if I just disappeared like that, he would eventually be, the death of the hunter blinding his mind and filling him with hatred, until he ultimately got killed in his job of hunter. And if I didn't try to stop that, I would be responsible.
All those thoughts crossed my mind during the time it took him to calm down. Finally he stopped, just swaying like a punching bag, tears streaming down his face.
I chose my word carefully.
"Do you know why I did it ?"
He didn't reacted so I shook him a little.
"I'm talking to you. Do you know why I did it ? Do you know why he is dead ?"
He finally looked me in the eyes and screamed "BECAUSE YOU'RE A MONSTER, YOU'RE A MONSTER AND YOU KILLED HIM !!"
I didn't move an inch "Try again".
I had no idea where all this calm came from, that assurance, or that feeling I had to do this. My Alpha instincts maybe ?
He sobbed and asked trembling "A-are you gonna kill me… ?"
"No I'm not. Why is that ?"
He frowned, confusion swirling in his mind. Apparently being interrogated like a student wasn't exactly what he was expecting. Then I could almost see the wheels start up again in his head.
"Why did I kill this man ?" I asked again "I had a very good reason to do so, there was a precise situation that led to that. What is it ?"
He looked down and seemingly reluctantly whispered "He…He attacked you".
It looked like this word had cs-ost him greatly, but I had no doubt he wouldn't deny how true they were.
Satisfied, I put him down.
"When a wolf kill, there is only two reason. He is threatened, he is hungry. That's it. Your friend-"
"He's not my friend." he replied without thinking, showing there was still hop at least.
"Your partner here, tried to kill me. You don't attack a bear and get mad when it fights back, let alone a werewolf. He signed up his death sentence the moment he drew his blades, there was nothing you could have done to save him."
He didn't replied, still pale and quivering in shock. I felt I had done enough. I wasn't responsible of him after all, I just made sure he wouldn't turn into one of those bitter and hollow beings, that weren't able to let go of their hatred until it ate them alive.
I turned back and then stopped, to give him a last advice.
"Don't go back. This is not a good life, this is not even a right life. You saw it before all this, and I hope you'll see it again. Being a hunter won't bring you any joy not justice."
Then I moved away, letting him alone with a corpse and mountains of confusion.