Doug, Eric, and Nate walked toward the large and imposing minotaur behind the ticket counter, heading in the direction of the sign-post directing the patrons around the park. The park wasn't set up in the traditional sense, considering it was on a large, private island in the middle of Lake Eerie that was still considered not only part of the United States, but it was a part of your town. The island itself had its own name that had actually been lost to time since Mythtopia took it over many years ago wanting to establish a special place for transformation enthusiasts. With the park's set up, people got off the boat, walked down the large pier, and then found themselves on the beach shore where individual ticket takers were set up to the right of the path into the greater part of the park. Mermaid Lagoon, where Ellen went off to meet her love interest, was on the other side of the island, surrounded by an enclosed lagoon from a volcano that sank in on itself after the formation of the island that was filled by the lake itself. The path taken, was a long one, due to how the extinct volcano sunk and no access was available going through the park. The sign-post that was at the end of the pier, which everyone had been standing at initially, showed directions everywhere and led to Doug's initial confusion.
As the three males approached the minotaur in the ticket booth, a smile developed on his face as they followed the initial sign that pointed behind him for the majority of the park areas. "So... this is your boy, Eric eh? The one who likes minotaurs?"
"That's right and like I suspected, Eric is more than willing to help you out Alexios." Doug revealed, but kept going. "So... according to the sign, Werebeast Woods is behind you... correct?"
"That it is, as are the majority of the attractions. Since you and your son are interested in Horror Hall, a place specifically for monstrous werewolves, I will give you some pointed directions. First, follow the main path until you reach the three-way split. The right and left paths will take you to everywhere else besides 'Werebeast Woods', which the central path does and leads you generally to where you want to go. Werebeast Woods is deep in the park and because the park itself is magical... spatial necessity isn't a thing. Once you are in Werebeast Woods, you will see a number of diverging paths for all manner of werebeasts... including Greek, Chinese, Japanese, Indian, and so forth. However, you will continue the path for the town where all the werefolk converge, 'Were-Town'. Yeah... I know it's derivative, but with so many species and no one can agree on something unique, that's what we went with and it stuck. Anyway, once in 'Were-Town' you will keep going basically to the center, which all of Werebeast Woods was built around because it was monstrous werewolves who settled this place and nestled deep in the forest to protect themselves from hunters back when monsters weren't accepted. They then built Horror Hall for a place for monster werewolves to live. With the magic cast on the entire island, if you enjoy your time at Horror Hall... not only will the island accommodate you for living space, it will also provide whatever prey you wish to hunt, that way the werewolves of Horror Hall won't need to get their fix elsewhere and get themselves in trouble. It is also known that if you step foot on that property, you are the werewolves' prey. Now... before you ask... no one knows what goes on in there because most don't enter. Those humans, like yourselves, that thought it was a good idea to go there... if they survive... they don't return and they don't talk about it. If anyone attempts to leave Mythtopia that didn't have a good time, a spell was cast long ago to wipe the memories of those people and if asked, they would simply say they never set foot in the park or they will claim they had a great time, but they wouldn't know any better. This was done to protect this place for people, like yourselves, that want to experience transformations and mythological creatures. I know that this is a lot of explanation, but it is best to know ahead of time from someone like me... instead of going in blind and not knowing what you are getting yourself into." Alexios explained, disappearing for a moment, and then opened the door for Eric whenever he was ready to step in with him.
Being that Alexios was a large creature, the three were curious how Eric would fit comfortably in such a small space and decided to walk to the back of the booth and peek in. When they were looking inside, they were amazed by what they saw. On the outside, it looked like the size of eight refrigerator boxes stacked two by two by two. However inside... there was a vast Greecian field with plenty of grass and wheat to graze on with Alexios standing deep inside, standing in front of what looked more like a child's wooden lemonade stand. Stepping back in front of him, they just stared.
"Yeah... I know... it's pretty amazing, isn't it? I actually live in here and never leave because I don't need to. None of my family from Greece came here when we heard about the park, so I don't have any reason to leave. Other Greek myths like Satyrs, Centaurs, and so on come and visit from time to time and they go back to where they live in the Greek portion of Werebeast Woods. So... whenever Eric is ready, he can just step inside." Alexios said, waiting for his new companion and would proceed with some 'Age Up' before anything takes place of a sexual nature.
Doug smiled, impressed with the situation, and motioned for Eric to join Alexios. "Well... son... go on. This is what I know you've wanted for some time, so have at it! Enjoy yourself because I know Nate and I will!"
Eric just nodded with a smile, hesitating at first, but eventually he went to the door, stepped into the booth, and closed the door behind him to find himself at the outer edge of a massive Greecian field. He was absolutely amazed and floored by everything, but he wasted no time in running to Alexios while other guests started lining up to get their passes into the park. With Eric now situated, Doug and Nate walked along the path, following the instructions Alexios provided. True to his word, everything was exactly how Alexios explained it to be up to and including their entry into "Were-Town". The place was absolutely massive, seeing werecreatures walking around, both in human form and their were-forms. The place was bustling with anthro werewolves, wereboars, werebears, weredogs, wererats, weretigers, werelions and so on. For whatever species of animal there was, there were weres that fit the bill. As they were walking down the center street, Horror Hall loomed off in the distance, appearing to be completely enclosed by a rod iron fence that came clearer and clearer into view the closer those two got to it.
Doug and Alex stood before the imposing rod iron fence, gazing up at the grandiose mansion known as Horror Hall. The barren, creepy, gnarled, and haunted looking trees in the surrounding forest seemed to lean in, as if listening to their conversation from the greater distance. The place smelled of doom and it was honestly the most perfect setting either of them could have asked for for a true mansion of horrors.
"I don't know, Dad," Alex said, his voice laced with trepidation. "This place looks seriously creepy. I know we both like monstrous werewolves, and horror, but this is a bit much. You heard what Alexios said back at the entrance to the park... people that go in usually don't come out and if they do... they don't leave happy."
Doug chuckled, his eyes shining with excitement. "That's what makes it perfect, son! Those people probably didn't appreciate horror, blood or gore the way we do. Plus... they were all probably scared of what the werewolves inside would offer." He said, pushing through the gated fence, walking up the drive as Nate walked behind him as the clear sky turned dark, foggy and ominous as the gate closed and sealed behind them.
As they walked up the drive, heading to the porte cochere, Doug grew more and more excited while Nate was hopeful that his dad would be right. As they approached the underside of the porte cochere, a pair of massive wooden double doors loomed over them, a snarling werewolf head knocker adorned on each door seemed to stare at them, its ominous, crimson glowing eyes following their every move. Doug raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before grasping the knocker and rapping it against the door. The eerie atmosphere seemed to become a bit more foreboding and ominous as each call of the knocker strengthened the dark spell that seemed to be on this place as Nate looked back and couldn't see the town they just walked through to get there or even the fence. Nate knew that the driveway up to where they were wasn't that long... or was it? He remembered how the tiny enclosed space was for Alexios was massive on the inside and maybe it was relative to the space that was enclosed? The land it sat on was massive compared to the tiny space Alexios was surrounded by, perhaps that made a bigger difference? As the sound of the iron hoop knocker, contained in the snarling muzzles of the sculpted werewolf heads echoed through the stillness, the trees and the very environment around them seemed to shudder. Alex felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Let's go inside," Doug said, his voice filled with anticipation.
As they stepped into the foyer, a chill ran down Alex's spine. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. "Dad, I don't like this," Alex whispered, tugging on Doug's arm.
Doug smiled reassuringly. "It's just old-house creaks and groans, son. Let's explore." He said as the planked wood groaned at the need to support weight upon them when they hadn't in who knows how long. They had no idea how time worked in a place filled with and even controlled by magic. However as they ventured deeper, the shadows seemed to move, twisting into grotesque forms. Alex knew they should leave, but his father's enthusiasm was infectious. As they stepped into the grand foyer of Horror Hall, a sense of lupine malevolence enveloped them, like a shroud woven from the darkest fears of the forest. The air inside reeked of wet fur, decay, and the faint tang of bloodlust. A chandelier, its crystals shaped like snarling wolf's teeth, hung from the ceiling like a ghastly claw, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
The walls themselves were adorned with faded portraits of werewolves in various stages of transformation, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly and sinister light. The paintings seemed to pulse with a malignant energy, as if the subjects were mere moments from bursting free of their frames to wreak havoc on those who foolishly chose to enter their home. A sweeping staircase, its carpet worn and frayed like the pelt of a ancient beast, curved upward like a ghostly claw, disappearing into the shadows above. The banister, polished by generations of hands stained with blood and darkness, seemed to glow with a sinister light, as if it had witnessed countless midnight rituals and human sacrifices. To the left, a door, hidden behind a tattered tapestry depicting a pack of wolves devouring a village, appeared to lead into a dark and narrow corridor, its destination unknown. The door's handle, a heavy, ornate affair shaped like a wolf's head, seemed to snarl at them like a living thing. The floor, a mosaic of cracked and yellowed marble, stretched out before them like a frozen lake of blood, its surface reflecting the faint, eerie glow that permeated the space. In the center of the foyer, a massive, ornate mirror hung above a console table, its surface cloudy, as if reflecting an image from a realm of eternal darkness. The mirror's frame was carved with the image of a werewolf in mid-transformation, its eyes glowing with an evil light.
As they ventured deeper, the foyer gave way to a hallway lined with cobweb-shrouded candelabras, their tapers shaped like wolf's teeth, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air grew thick with the stench of rot and decay, heavy with the scent of blood and death. On their left along the hall, a door creaked ominously, revealing a room filled with gruesome taxidermy: wolves with glowing eyes, their jaws frozen in snarls, surrounded by human skulls and bones. In the center, a massive, bloody-fanged wolf's head hung from the ceiling, its eyes seeming to follow them.
Beyond, a corridor twisted like a gutted intestine, its walls adorned with macabre frescoes depicting werewolves feasting on human flesh. The images seemed to writhe and twist, as if alive. A staircase descended into darkness, leading to a damp, dank chamber filled with rusted medical equipment and strange, arcane artifacts. In the center, a single, flickering candle cast eerie shadows on the walls, illuminating a surgical table stained with ancient blood. Every step revealed a new horror, each room a testament to the unholy union of human and lupine. And through it all, the sense of malevolent presence grew, as if they were being herded toward some unspeakable fate.
As they delved deeper, the shadows seemed to writhe around them, like living darkness. Doug's eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, his inner darkness stirring, awakened by the mansion's malevolent energy. Nate, sensing the change in his father, felt a shiver run down his spine. Their footsteps echoed through a long, deserted corridor, the walls adorned with faded portraits of ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow them with cold, calculating interest. The air grew colder, heavy with the scent of decay and corruption. A door hidden behind a tattered arras creaked ominously, revealing a narrow stairway descending into darkness. Doug's smile grew wider, his eyes burning with an otherworldly light.
"Shall we explore, Nate?" he whispered, his voice dripping with sinister intent.
Nate hesitated, feeling the weight of the mansion's darkness settling upon him like a shroud. His own inner darkness, a seed recently planted, stirred, sensing the malevolent energy surrounding them. As they descended the stairs, the air grew colder, the shadows twisting around them like living things. Nate felt his heart pounding in his chest, his senses heightened, as if he was being led to some ancient, forbidden ritual. At the bottom of the stairs, a door adorned with strange symbols and markings seemed to pulsate with a malignant energy. Doug's hand reached out, his fingers closing around the rusty handle like a vice.
"Welcome, Nate," he whispered, his voice dripping with malevolence, "to the heart of Horror Hall."
Nate's eyes widened in confusion as his father pushed open the door, revealing a chamber filled with ancient artifacts and strange devices. "How did you know this was here, Dad? How do you know this is the 'Heart of Horror Hall?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.
Doug's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a knowing light. "I... I'm not sure," he stammered, his voice trailing off.
But Nate sensed a hint of deception, a flicker of uncertainty behind his father's eyes. It was as if Doug was hiding something, something he couldn't quite remember. Then, like a door creaking open in his mind, Doug's memories began to return. Fragments of a long-forgotten past, echoes of a life left behind. He remembered standing in this very room, surrounded by the same artifacts, the same devices. He remembered the feel of the cold stone beneath his feet, the taste of the damp air. Most of all, he remembered the ritual, the ancient ceremony that had awakened a power within him, a power that had lain dormant for decades.
Doug's eyes locked onto Nate's, a mixture of fear and excitement swirling in their depths. "I've been here before," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I remember now."
Nate's confusion deepened, his mind racing with questions. What had his father done here? What secrets had he uncovered? And what lay hidden in the recesses of his mind, waiting to be unleashed?
As they entered the circular room, the air grew thick with an eerie, pungent scent, like something was burning in the shadows. The walls, adorned with ancient symbols, seemed to press in around them, making Nate's skin crawl. Five men, their faces chiseled from granite, their eyes gleaming with a feral intensity, stepped forward, their movements fluid, like predators stalking prey. They surrounded Doug, their massive arms opening wide, as if embracing a long-lost brother.
"Welcome home, Master," one of them growled, their voice like thunder in the small space.
Doug's eyes gleamed with a knowing light, his smile spreading wide, as he embraced the men, his hands clapping their backs in a gesture of familiarity. Nate's mind reeled, his heart racing, as he realized his father was not who he thought he was. The door behind him sealed shut with a resounding clang, trapping him in this den of darkness. The men began to chant, their voices low, hypnotic, as they closed in around Doug, their eyes burning with an otherworldly energy. Nate felt himself being drawn into their circle, as if pulled by an unseen force.
Doug's eyes locked onto his, a glint of malevolence sparkling within, as he whispered, "Join us, Nate. Join the pack."
Nate's blood ran cold, his heart pounding in his chest, as he realized he was staring into the face of pure evil. As the men's chanting grew louder, Doug's body began to contort, his human features melting away like wax in a furnace. His ears elongated, gaining pointed tips, as if shaped by an unseen force into hybrid forms of wolf and human. His canines lengthened, sharpening, thickening at the base, breaking the seal along his gums. Blood flowed, filling his mouth with the iron-rich taste of transformation. Doug reveled in the sensation, memories of the hunt flooding back like a tidal wave. His fingers transformed, thickening, strengthening, as pressure built at the tips. Claws burst forth, ripping through flesh and nail, in a bloody, gory mess. Doug's eyes gleamed with a feral light, as he welcomed the agony, the sensation of his true form emerging.
His body expanded, muscle bulging, clothing straining, ripping, and tearing. Skin exposed, getting denser, thicker, covered in his natural brown body hair. The transformation was a symphony of sensations, a reunion with his true nature. Doug's face elongated, his nose flattening, turning black, flaring and becoming moist as his eyes turned yellow. He threw back his head, letting out a triumphant howl, as the men around him joined in, their voices blending in a chorus of primal fury. Nate stumbled back, horror etched on his face, as his father's transformation reached its climax. The air was heavy with the scent of blood, sweat, and wet fur. The room seemed to darken, as if the shadows themselves were closing in, welcoming Doug back to the fold.
Yes, Master," one of the men replied, their voice dripping with submission. "We have prepared a sacrifice for your return."
Doug's eyes gleamed with anticipation as a figure was dragged into the room, struggling and screaming. He could smell the fear, the adrenaline, and his mouth watered in response.
"Ah, perfect," Doug growled, his voice no longer human. "I hunger for the taste of a human male's heart. The seat that houses the soul is the sweetest meat."
The men held the sacrifice down, exposing his chest. Doug's claws extended, and with one swift motion, he ripped open the man's chest, revealing the beating heart. Nate watched in horror, frozen in place, as his father consumed the heart, the sound of sucking and chewing filling the air. The room was bathed in a dark, sinister energy, as if the very presence of evil had been unleashed.
Doug's eyes flashed with pleasure, his true self finally free. "The taste of a soul," he whispered, "is the greatest pleasure of all."
The men around him cheered, their voices echoing off the walls, as Doug's transformation reached its peak. He was no longer human, no longer restrained by the shackles of society. All while Nate, his son, was forced to witness the true horror of his father's nature, the darkness that had been lurking beneath the surface all along. As the last morsel of the mortal soul was consumed, Doug's eyes blazed with an otherworldly intensity, transforming into pure crimson. His monstrous self emerged, unfettered and unrelenting. The air around him seemed to distort, as if reality itself was bending to accommodate his return to power.
With a voice that was both familiar and yet, utterly alien, Doug declared, "I remember now. I remember the souls I've consumed, the power I've wielded, and the glory I've known."
The five men surrounding him, still in human form, grinned in unison, their eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. They nodded in reverence, their gaze fixed upon the phylactery in the center of the room. The vessel, adorned with ancient runes and symbols of dark power, seemed to pulsate with an eerie energy, as if it held the very essence of Doug's former self. His power, his strength, his ferocity – all waiting to be reclaimed. Doug's gaze fell upon the phylactery, and with a hunger that could not be satiated, he reached out to claim it. The lid opened as if lifted by a spectal clawed hand with a dreadful screech, releasing a maelstrom of dark energy that enveloped him. As the power surged through his veins, Doug's body began to shift, contorting into a form that was both wolf and man, yet neither. His monstrous self emerged, fully realized, and with a voice that shook the foundations of Horror Hall, he declared, "I am the Master, and I have returned."
His body, now a twisted amalgamation of lupine and human physiology, towers over the surrounding space, casting a long, ominous shadow on the walls. Muscles ripple beneath his skin like living serpents, as if infused with a dark, vital energy. His fur, a deep, burnished crimson, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly light, as if the very essence of the souls he has consumed has been distilled into its texture. His eyes, two glittering rubies, burn with an inner fire, a fierce, malevolent intelligence that seems to pierce the very soul. The pupils, vertical slits of gold, appear to dilate and constrict, as if drinking in the fear that surrounds him. The face, a twisted parody of its former human visage, now resembles a grotesque, lupine mask, with jaws that seem capable of exerting a bone-crushing force. The teeth, yellowed and razor-sharp, appear to be constantly smeared with a froth of saliva, as if in anticipation of the next victim. His limbs, long and heavily muscled, end in paws that seem to be tipped with claws of gleaming, black obsidian, capable of tearing steel asunder with a single swipe. The hands, still vaguely human in shape, appear to be webbed with a thin, membranous tissue, as if adapted for some unholy purpose.
As Doug moves, his form seems to shift and flow like a living shadow, as if the very fabric of reality is being warped to accommodate his presence. An aura of dark power surrounds him, a palpable, crushing force that seems to weigh upon the air itself. At the same time Nate's eyes remained fixed on the monstrous form before him, his mind reeling with a mix of emotions. Awe and terror wrestled for dominance, as he struggled to comprehend the true nature of his father. The beast that stood before him, its eyes burning with an inner fire, was a far cry from the man he had known. A small, flickering spark of fear danced within him, afraid of becoming like his father, of succumbing to the same darkness that had consumed him. But a larger, more insidious part of him, a part that had been germinating since the seed of darkness was planted, desired to be like his dad. It coveted the power, the strength, and the ferocity that his father embodied. It longed to unleash the beast within, to let go of the constraints of humanity and embrace the primal fury that lay beneath.
As Nate stood there, frozen in a mix of fear and fascination, his father's eyes locked onto his. The crimson orbs seemed to bore into his very soul, as if sensing the turmoil that brewed within. A low, rumbling growl emanated from the beast's throat, and Nate felt a shiver run down his spine. His father took a step closer, the air seeming to distort around him, as if reality itself was bending to accommodate his presence.
"Join me, Nate," the beast spoke in a voice that was both familiar and yet, utterly alien. "Let go of your humanity, and embrace the power that lies within. Together, we can rule the night."
As the monstrous master werewolf, Doug, padded closer to Nate, his naked, lupine form seemed to radiate an aura of darkness that enveloped Nate like a shroud. The air grew thick with an unholy energy, as if the very presence of evil was coalescing around them. Dark tendrils, like ethereal tentacles, reached out from Doug's being, seeking to ensnare Nate's soul. They wrapped around the seed of darkness within him, nurturing it with an otherworldly power that seemed to seep into his very essence. Nate felt his heart racing, his mind reeling, as the darkness spread through him like a stain. His soul, once a flickering flame of humanity, began to wither, consumed by the encroaching shadows. The beast within him, dormant for so long, stirred, sensing the awakening call of its master. It stretched, yawned, and began to unfurl, like a dark, malevolent bloom.
Doug's eyes gleamed with an unholy light, as he reached out a clawed hand to Nate. "Embrace your true nature, my son," he growled, his voice like thunder in the darkness. "Let the beast arise, and together, we shall reign supreme."
Nate's vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the tidal wave of darkness crashing down upon him. He felt himself being pulled into the abyss, the seed of darkness within him germinating, growing, and soon to bloom into a horror beyond comprehension. As Doug's dark power enveloped Nate, his soul was latched onto by the malevolent force, like a parasite attaching itself to its host. The darkness seeped into Nate's essence, corrupting his soul, darkening it, and consuming it with an insatiable hunger. Nate's inner light, once a beacon of hope and humanity, flickered and dimmed, as the shadows closed in around it. His soul, once pure and untainted, was now being devoured by the very evil that had spawned Doug's monstrous form. The darkness spread its tendrils, wrapping them around Nate's soul, squeezing tight, and draining the life force from it. The once-vibrant colors of his essence dulled, fading to a morbid gray, as the light was extinguished, replaced by an abyssal void.
Doug's power, a maelstrom of malevolence, surged through Nate's being, preparing his soul for replacement. The dark energy coursed through his veins, rewriting his very essence, and reshaping his soul into a vessel for the evil that was to come. As the corruption deepened, Nate's mind recoiled in horror, his consciousness struggling to comprehend the desecration of his own soul. His thoughts grew cloudy, his memories distorted, and his sense of self began to disintegrate, consumed by the all-encompassing darkness. In the depths of Nate's being, a void was forming, a chasm of malevolence, ready to be filled by a soul of darkness, forged in the depths of Doug's twisted heart. The transformation was almost complete; Nate's soul was on the brink of collapse, ready to be reborn into a monstrous, evil entity, forever bound to the will of his father, the master werewolf.
As the last remnants of Nate's soul were consumed, Doug's dark power filled the void with the soul of a monstrous werewolf. The malevolent entity, born from Doug's twisted heart, took hold of Nate's being, its presence like a dark, festering wound. At first, the changes were subtle, almost imperceptible. Nate's ears grew pointed tips, as if listening for the whispers of the damned. His canines lengthened and sharpened, hinting at the bloodlust that now coursed through his veins. His body grew hairier, the soft down of his skin transforming into a thick, coarse fur that seemed to ripple beneath his clothes. His muscles thickened, straining against the fabric, as if eager to burst forth in a frenzy of claws and teeth. The transformation had begun, albeit slight, it would take time for Nate's body to fully succumb to the monstrous soul that now resided within. For now, he remained trapped in his human form, a prison of flesh and blood that would soon be shattered by the emerging beast.
Doug's eyes gleamed with triumph as he beheld his son, now a vessel for the malevolent entity that would soon unleash a terror beyond comprehension. The master werewolf's power had created a new monster, one that would roam the earth, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in its wake. As Nate's body began to change, though more internally than externally, his mind was consumed by the soul of the werewolf, its bloodlust and malevolence seeping into his thoughts like a dark, corrosive acid. He felt his humanity slipping away, replaced by a hunger for flesh and a thirst for power. The transformation had started, and nothing could stop it now. The Nate people had known was no more, consumed by the monster that had taken his place. The beast would soon be unleashed, and the world would tremble before its fury.