//------------------------------// // The Witching Hour (3) // Story: Song of the Moon // by BlackWing //------------------------------// The Witching Hour "It's strangely ironic. After traveling here, all the way from being bitten in Transylvania, the other side of Europe, the very witch responsible for my bite ancestor lives in the woods outside my birthplace. It is as though fate is laughing at me." I mused, sitting in a cabin formerly owned by the town eccentric, who constantly went on about demons and such until he was taken away for heresy. Having lived here previously had it's benefit, knowing the lay of the land. "Fate laughs at us all." Flandre replied. "No, when fate looks at you, it cries." I said sternly. "Still upset regarding that matter on the boat?" She asked, spinning her pointer finger around in circles. "You are childish and naive. You know nothing of subtlety! You could have lied and said you were a noble headed to England for negotiations, but you simply had to boast and incite that contest. We are not here to make money, we are here to deal with a witch!" I was angry. Very much so, and was almost to the point of yelling. "Ah yes, but because of that, we have this, which will make the task far easier. One does not simply slay a witch without armament." She said, taking out a bag of coins, the very same as she got from the captain before she butchered him and his entire crew. "So, is that all a man's life is worth to you? Two gold coins each? Because of you, one hundred hearth's will be dark this winter. One hundred families will feel the chill of the cold, and the pain of hunger, not just this season, but every one hereafter. You recall how the vampire who slew your family ruined your life? You are no better than him. With the pain and misery you have caused, you deserve death." "HOW DARE YOU!" She began to ream. "I come on this venture to assist YOU, and you speak with nothing but scorn for my method. Fool! You should be humble and accept my aid without qualm!" "I am not a fool as you claim. I know full well that the reason you followed me was not to aid in my success, but to ensure my failure. You ENJOY being an evil, vindictive, manipulating hellspawn. It is inconceivable that you would give up your immortality because a simple song I played reminded you of times long gone. Those songs were ones of misery, not of joy and fond memory. We are parting company HERE. Leave me be fell creature, I do not wish to be in your company any longer." "Then you will die here. I will enjoy feasting on your blood." She smiled, showing her fangs, her features becoming distorted and her wings sprouting from her back. The sight was unnerving, and I could feel her malice. I was about to turn and run, but I remembered my preparation. "What was it you said previously? That locked in a cage with a feral werewolf, even you could fall? You do not know what tonight is, as you did not have wolves at your call at the estate, and so you have not kept track. I however, always know. It has been exactly 28 days since I first appeared at your castle. This old cabin in the woods belonged to a very superstitious man, rightly so as the witch Moira lives nearby, although I did not know it previously. You did not notice while you slept, but during the day, I hung several holy objects around the house which I found in the chest at the foot of your bed, one at every entrance, as well as in the rafters. I can leave, you cannot." I banged the back of my fist on the window I stood by, causing the shutters to open. Behind me hung a Star of David from above the window sill, and behind that, the full moon, in all it's glory. I caught a glimpse of it in the corner of my eye, and I felt it's pale light on my skin as I began to change. The vampire in my company was severely weakened by the divine relics scattered about, while I was not affected at all. The pain was unbearable, the snapping and shifting of bones. My hair began to grow, and I could feel the tail sprouting from my back. "Remind me once again who the fool is?" I asked as my speech turned into a deep, throaty growl, tears escaping my eyes from the pain of my shifting form. "Why didn't you simply kill me with a stake through the heart, instead planning all this?" Flandre asked, looking a little bit afraid. She knew what was about to happen, and wasn't confident anymore as she knew I had out played her in my preparations. "Because, you look just like my sister. I do not have it in me to kill you. The wolf does." The deep growl turned into a howl as the transformation completed. Trapped in a room with a very angry werewolf, unable to use her magic or escape because the house she was contained in was adorned with crosses and the like, Flandre was scared beyond any measure. I could smell her fear, and it was wonderful. She stood there with quaking eyes, helpless as the divine power within the house sealed away her evil. She knew what was about to happen, and given what she had done, she knew what awaited her in the afterlife. Placing one paw on each of her cheeks, I let out a terrible roar as I turned her head around and around, twisting it till the flesh and sinew tore, ripping it off. Her blood did not spurt out, as her heart did not beat. Instead, it simply poured out slowly. I dragged the body and head outside so when the sun came out, it would turn her to ash. I did not eat her, as frankly, she smelled of decay. 'Now, I will need new clothes. Luckily I am always prepared and have spares in my trunk. Time to go for a run.' I began to run through the woods outside, and it was glorious. The cool night air, the light of the moon, the scent of the woods. I was happy. I felt so good. That damned vampire was dead, and now all that's left is the witch, but not tonight. No. I will wait for the morn. I may yet convince her to free me of my curse. If not, then I will try to slay her, and pray that I can win. I hope my prayers are heard. If anything, my purging this world of Flandre could be seen as a sacrifice to the divine. As I run, I come across a wolf pack, and they begin to run next to me. They aren't chasing me as pray, but running with me as pack members. Even though I am a werewolf, I remember where I am going, so I may find my way back to the cabin in the morning. I wonder, tonight, will I dream of sister, or will I dream of Flandre? I would very much like to have my dream of slaughter replaced by my slaying of that detestable wretch. "Brother, please......" I awake with a start. I yet again dreampt of my sister. In the five years I have been a werewolf, I have only killed two, the second being last night. I was very luckily able to hide or bind myself during the full moons, and so I did not cause any more harm. I may have eaten several wild deer or moose during my changes over the years, but none with mind. I had hoped that in killing Flandre, my dreams would be relieved. "If the curse is not the cause of my nightmare, then, is it my guilt? Is it that I cannot forgive myself, and that is why I forever dream of her? Is it that I fight my curse, and so each night that I do not transform, I see it over and over, as if the spirits are telling me to accept it? I do not have answers, only questions." I ponder to myself as I look around. I am surrounded by sleeping wolves, who are not at all disturbed by my presence. Several of them rub against my leg, seeing me as one of them, while others simply look with curiosity. I give them a bow and thank them for watching over me that night before I head back to the cabin. When I arrive, I spot two large piles of ash outside. The sun indeed did it's job in disposing of the vampire's corpse, the stench of death no longer permeating the air, instead replaced by the smell of smoke, as though there had been a campfire. I enter the room, spotting the small amount of blood on the floor, I open the windows so it too is destroyed, the thick red liquid turning to wisps of black smoke. Removing my tattered and torn clothes, I put on their replacements. Opening my violin case and applying the correct care products to ensure it's continued longevity, I then place it back in it's protective case and being my forest walk to find Moira. As I walk, I spot another cabin, much like the one I lodged in. This one however, has a foreboding about it. The very earth on which it stands is seething with evil. It makes me feel as though the shadows would spring up and tear me limb from limb were I not their kin. The way I felt at Scarlet's castle, followed by Flandre's, it does not compare in the slightest. This place is cursed. I find that various stenches hang in the air. Blood, citrus, aloe, countless other herbs. 'A witches brew. I dare not think of the concoction that is steeping within.' I slowly approach the door, a lump building in my throat, my heart threatening to leap from my chest. I bring my hand up to it and notice that it's shaking. I ever so softly rap my knuckles on the dilapidated wood, which swings open immediately as I do, revealing a very old woman with a black tunic and hood. "Eh, what do you want?" She said quickly, showing her annoyance. I take a moment to note her features. She looks like she'd turn to dust with the slightest touch, her crooked nose, her beady black eyes, her pallor skin. She looks like a thing possessed, probably because she is. "Well, out with it boy!" She begins to lose her temper. "Are you, Moira?" I ask nervously. "Yeah, what do you want with me?" She's getting defensive. "I... I need your help." I stutter. "Long ago, a man became a lycan by your art. Through the ages, the beast blood was passed down by bite, arriving at me. I want you to remove the curse so I can live freely." The old hag smiled wickedly. Whenever a witch smiles, it is never a good thing. "Ah, a young wolf pup I see. Well, of course I can elp ya. It'll cost ya though." She said with a cough. At this point, a fool would say, 'I'll give anything!' Of course, I am not a fool. "What is the price?" I ask nervously. "Your soul." She replies. "My soul?" I ask in disbelief. "A long time ago, a man came to me. A cannibal. He hungered for the flesh of other men, and asked for the power to feast as his heart desired. In exchange for his soul, I granted him his request. In order to break it, I would need another. The demon within hungers. It keeps me young, but it is starved. So, what do you say? Eternity in hell for freedom on earth, do we have a deal?" "If only I had not slain the vampire Flandre, I'd have her give you hers. She's doomed to hell anyways. It is my soul I seek to save. What is the point of being free of my curse only to be damned? I decline." "Very well, then live forever with the guilt of having slain your loved ones!" She says with a cackle as she turnes around and begins to close the door. 'That bitch! She knows exactly who I am, and is taunting me with it! I knew it would come to this. Her strength is her magic. I should be able to overpower her, especially with this.' Once she is turned around, I pull a wooden crucifix from my pack, with the end sharpened to a point. "Moira." I say calmly. The hag turns to look at me, only to be met by a sharpened cross, which now protrudes from her chest. "What?" She asks, her beady eyes opening in surprise. "You honestly thought that I'd walk away after this, simply live with myself? I swore that I'd be cured. I have already slain a vampire who looked just like my sister from all those years ago, why would I have any trepidation in slaying you as well? I will not exist in this world as a lycan any longer!" Blood shot from the wound, splattering on my garb. She coughed up more onto my face. I backed away with a satisfied smile. She looked down at her wound with horror, grasping the spike in her chest and pulling it out. She smiled as she coughed up more blood. "Fool. Your curse is no mere hex, it was bought with Loupin's very soul. It was my master's magic, not my own. With my death, you will not be free, you have instead lost your only cure." She cackled even as the life slowly drained from her body, more blood spurting out of her wound each second. "Then I will settle for vengeance." I said with a scowl. "If you refuse to exist in this world as a lycan, then I will send you to another! I know not where, it may even be hell itself! You will rue the day you tried to spite a witch!" She muttered something under her breath, the words hanging in the air and sounding foul. I found myself surrounded by a strange red glow as the world began to turn dark. As she died, she did so with a smile on her face. 'Fine, I grow weary of this world. I may die, but I no longer care. Wherever I go, Lord, I beg of you that it is pleasant, you know all too well my suffering. May the act of slaying this evil be penance for my sins.' I prayed. I wasn't an overly religious man, after all, being cursed tends to wane the faith greatly, but I still had my moments. Then again, if you weren't a believer, you'd be burned for heresy, so even if you were more relaxed about it, you had to put on a bit of a show. This wasn't a show. I was being sincere. I opened my arms wide in acceptance of what would happen to me. I could not be cured by wolfsbane, as the curse had already been settled. I could not be cured by eating the heart of the wolf that bit me, as it was ash. I could not be cured by slaying the witch that was responsible, as the magic came from her demon master and not the witch itself. Fine. I will be a werewolf. I only hope whatever world I arrive in will be more tolerant of my circumstance and not hunt me like an animal, and that I can learn to control it. "Mother, father, sister, I'm sorry. I've failed you. I brought about your doom, and could do nothing to end my curse. At least the one responsible is now paying for their crimes. In place of salvation, justice. Forgive me." Then, I black out. "Did you feel that Luna?" A tall white horse with a horn and wings asked a smaller dark blue one, both their chromatic manes blowing in a nonexistent breeze. "I did indeed, though I know not what it was." The smaller one asked. "It seems to have passed, but for the moment, I felt darkness looming." "Yes, it was a magic most foul. I do hope it does not interrupt the Nightmare Night festivities." Well, there you have it. Lark killed Flandre and Moira. He's put up with enough supernatural garbage for a lifetime. Flandre killing the boat's crew was the last straw for him. In case you're wondering, the way it works in this fiction is a bit of a cross of various lores. While Dracula made a deal with the devil to become a vampire, other vampires came into being by a witch's curse, as did werewolves. Witches invite an evil spirit to reside in their body, giving them access to magic, but for the most powerful of magics, a soul is needed for the demon to consume, and so they make a deal. Most often, mortals who fear death, or desire wealth and power would go to them. I'm also going by what mythos surrounded the topic during the 1700's-1800's, and the topic of religion was kind of heavy, but if any of you have ever seen a vampire movie you know how it works. And no, Twilight doesn't count as a vampire movie, as she's a pony.