Big Bad

by Lillian Jacobs

Red’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward.

  “I chased one of them to this village. A large one, black as night,” she said.

  “Aye, I’ve seen him,” he said, trailing off and staring into space.

  “The castle was ...deep. I felt the echoes from the dark and cavernous hall as if it went far into the earth.”

  His mouth opened up very wide and it was black as oil.

  “I could hear the screams of children echo throughout the hall.”

  Red took a large drink from the red wine the mother had given her.

  “We rode our white horses, good spirits they were, across the boundary between good and evil, into their lair. I told the white ones that they would be safe in the journey but in truth I doubted they would survive the crossover. They rode swiftly, flying like screaming ghosts, and we were engulfed in the castle amidst their horrific screams. We were ambushed. They did not make it. But I made it into his lair.”

  He opened his coat to reveal two long fingers hanging within.

  “These belong to the dark one.”

  They were bloodied and seemed to twitch, although it was just the wind.

  “Sometimes I think about how many there are that are still not dead, so I must go back to kill them; but he must not get these back, they are a symbol of my victory.”

  He handed them to the mother and she put them in a metal chest.

  “How did you get inside?”

  “Through a secret entrance,” he said, now smoking from his pipe. “Fifty yards northwest from the gate, there is a hole in the ground. It has been discovered by them, however, and was caved in with rocks.”

  “I am going to the castle tonight.”

  “Wait till tomorrow and we will go to the ‘Raw Black’ shop and gather proper weaponry before assaulting the castle together.”

  “I cannot wait. I must go now.”

  “Patience, lass. No need to rush into anything. You better stay by my side.”

  “Patience isn’t one of my strengths,” she said and left after thanking them.

  Red went to a black smith shop the man suggested called ‘Raw Black.’ The weapons appeared sadistic and quite insane to her.

  “If you ever need anything made, just come to me and I’ll fix you up real nice,” said the blacksmith.

  “Do you have anything to use against a werewolf?”

  He laughed and grabbed a hammer.

  “Werewolves are my specialty. This hammer – when it strikes, sends a silver bolt into the wolf. See this hole right here?”

  “I want it,” she said, hurriedly.

  “I have to make it first,” he said. “Patience.”

  “If I hear that word one more time today, I’m gonna-”

  “I can have it to you soon. This one doesn’t work. It is only a display model.”

  “What else do you have?”

  “What else do you need?”

  “Arrows and explosives. Oh, and I need my sword sharpened. And I mean right now.”

  __________

  It was getting dark as Red walked toward the lights of a nearby tavern. The patrons within looked empty, without desire or need, save for drink. She ordered a drink as well, to fit in and attempt to hide her more subversive desires.

  At the largest table, draped in loud, screaming colors, was a large man who appeared to be of some power in the area, as the energy of the bar drew towards him and he was surrounded by a large crowd that hung on his every word.

  She learned from one of his constituents that offered to buy her a drink that he was the viceroy. He motioned Red over to speak with him, his eyes wide with desire, after his constituent alerted him to her presence. But she just smiled and nodded her head, to his dismay.

  The bar was crowded and wrapped around her like a straitjacket. She felt tension all around her, their eyes and movements all a response to her – a stranger in their midst. She felt them surround her closer and closer, whispering and physically imposing their bodies against hers. It hadn’t been too long before every man in the bar had hit on her.

  The only ones that ignored her were a group that sat near the viceroy, keeping to themselves. They wore cloaks, but couldn’t hide their bulging muscles and tribal tattoos. They wore armor, gauntlets, jewelry, bracelets, and necklaces all inscribed and engraved with babbling nonsense. Their scent was unmistakable – werewolves. She knew the alpha was not there, as there was no center to their group. Their scatter was even and they were seemingly neutral to their surroundings, but she could tell they were very alert. One of them was in a deep discussion with the viceroy.

  Behind her she felt the daunting force of authority. A dark shadow leaned and lingered in the air just behind the hairs of her head. Warm breath and dying patience strained the space around her body, and she hesitantly turned her head. A large hand reached out and a warm smile asked her to pay her tab. She granted him his momentary desire and bolted from her chair.

  Lurching between strange sensations in the upper regions of her brain was a signal from some dark, deep nodule. She recognized the feeling – it was the red haze. It was building once more as the large group of werewolves had clouded her vision with their primal energy. A possibly inadequate interpretation led her to believe that the facts had come together and converged at that very moment so that the only natural path for her to take would be one of action. Red pulled her hood down, so that only shadows covered her face and sat with her back to the viceroy. People walked by in their own happy worlds as she leaned back to listen.

  "I will make sure you pay for this," the viceroy said. “I can make you very unhappy.”

  "How can you make us pay, when there is nothing left for you to take from us? You think we are happy now? That you will make us unhappy? Those are human words. We have the only thing that we need – the scent of blood. The hunt.”

  "Everyone has a weakness.”

  “I have a weakness for little, fat men. They are always so juicy.”

  The viceroy loosened his collar.

  “We can’t have you running loose, killing anyone you feel like.”

  “This entire city is our territory, and whatever is within it, our prey. Besides, we pay you, don’t we?”

  “If you want to avoid outside interference, which is already an issue, you will have to tone it down. If you hand over the one responsible for the murder of the girl, then I will tell the Luparii that you are under control.”

  “We will report to him, and tell you what our decision is.”

  As the man stood up, he breathed in through his nose and glanced at the red hood before leaving with his men.

  When they were gone, Red ran down the stairs to exit but was blocked by two hulking menaces. They both pulled out weapons, one an axe, and the other a crossbow. They slowly approached her as another one appeared at the top of the stairs. Red was surrounded. She pulled back her cloak to reveal a silver sword.

  “Where is your master?” she said.

  “Don’t worry,” one of them snarled. “If we know you are here, he does as well.”

  They converged on her, one step at a time, as she drew her sword. In a flash, blood sprayed the walls and two of them had both of their arms amputated. They writhed on the floor, while the third ran fearfully out the door.

  Red followed him to his motorcycle. It was a gnarly, gothic chopper: black, twisted and flared in every way possible. Organic and natural in its curves, yet also industrial in style with razor sharp edges. A demonic ride, to be sure.

  He rode off and she struggled to follow him and trail his bike tracks before he reached a very large, dark castle looking rather ominous, surrounded by grey and misty clouds.

  Red saw that the front gates were heavily guarded, so she searched for the secret entrance. When she finally found it, it was collapsed, but not completely. Only a child or small girl, such as herself, would be able to pass through. Red squeezed through the space; it was tight and jagged, like an iron maiden. Eventually, she found herself within a dark cav
ern. A few feet ahead of her was a knight, long dead. Next to his body was a long tunnel and a stairway that led to the castle.

  Red stealthily maneuvered around the labyrinth-like surroundings. It was cold, windy, and damp within the main hall and she recognized the familiar odor that marked a den. She looked down the great hall, and heard the echoes of a howl. That can’t be good. Barks and growls grew louder until a pack of werewolves had completely filled the common area.

  Red dodged around columns and crept on the ground to be safe and away from sight. In full armor, they looked like horrific mixtures of animal and metal, large and mechanical, and were growling and yelling at each other. Beneath their armor, the giant wolves had various shades of fur: blonde, grey, brown, black, and white cream. They wrestled and pushed their noses together, licking and rubbing each other.

  One reminded her of a gargoyle, as he wore an especially bulky, black chest plate. He stood in front of a smaller one, as if protecting him.

  She saw a red cloud fill the area – if fluttered and manipulated the surrounding light like a kaleidoscope – signifying that the emotions of the group were cranked up to the max. Red turned and saw something - an incredibly intense shade of red in the distance. Something was very angry. It appeared off the charts in terms of aggressiveness and potential for violence.

  A huge werewolf walked forward from the red haze and approached the gargoyle. It was the alpha. He had bandages from the arrows she had hit him with earlier, and two of his fingers were missing.

  “Bring forth the murderer,” he commanded.

  “He is one of us. We will not turn him over to the humans,” said the gargoyle.

  “We cannot allow the killing of innocents. The murderer will be punished,” he roared.

  The other wolves flared their teeth in dismay, but he flared his more and they lowered their heads.

  “We will take him to their viceroy. We must change – for ourselves – and because we do not want another intrusion from the Luparii.”

  “You have been weakened by your injury,” said the gargoyle, perhaps the beta, pointing at the alpha’s bandages. She could tell he was the beta, because he was submissive in his body language. “And now you want an inferior race dictate how we live? Perhaps you are not strong enough to be our leader, anymore!”

  “We must have laws – we must show restraint – or we will destroy ourselves in the process.”

  “Laws? Where are these laws? They do not exist – it is only the enforcement of the law that exists. They are man made. We do not see these invisible boundaries, and we do not follow their law.”

  “No, but we must follow our own. An eye for an eye – the natural law.”

  The alpha’s movements were aggressive – slow and deliberate, his posture high and his tail and ears lowered. He stared at the gargoyle, standing completely erect, his tail horizontal to his spine.

  The beta seemed to be thinking to himself – asking himself whether it was worth it to fight at this moment. The alpha was much larger and appeared furious.

  “If you feel I am weak, then come at me now!” the alpha roared.

  The wolves backed away and the beta looked around, nervously. The alpha raised his fists, ready to fight, but nothing happened and a few tense moments passed without incident. Finally, the beta’s eyes and mouth closed in submission. He approached the alpha at a low posture and then licked his face. The alpha clamped down on the beta’s muzzle, baring his teeth to show his dominance.

  She looked at the alpha’s belly and it had a scar that appeared as a large smile – as if it had been cut open and stitched up. Could it really be Fen? The world began to swirl around like a Van Gogh painting, as she was overcome by emotion. Red panicked and ran in the other direction.

  She found herself in a cavern and noticed some giant pillars holding the castle together at the foundation. She placed the explosives at two pillars beneath the castle’s main hall, and set the timer and left. If she didn’t make it out, she still wanted their lair destroyed with all of them inside.

  Red entered a larger cavern with many levels. A giant flame sat atop the uppermost platform. She heard the wolves howl harmoniously – they were assembling the pack. Suddenly, large men and werewolves filed into the cavern at every level. They walked in like wraiths with listless looks on their faces and arranged themselves in some seemingly pre-ordained order.

  A man larger than the others, shirtless, with long, black hair, tattoos, and facial scars walked onto the main balcony. Red recognized the scar on his stomach. It was the alpha in human form.

  One of the men was prepared to be brought to the village. This must be the one who murdered the girl. They are going to give him to the viceroy as reparation.

  Red felt something stirring within her body as she witnessed all of the shirtless men, their bodies toned and ripped and glistening in sweat. They were perfect specimens – throbbing vessels of testosterone and sexual power.

  They turned to look at her, even though she thought she was hidden in the shadows. They all stared at her, including the alpha, who stood alert, his face directed at her.

  “Please come out. I know you are there. I smelled you since you first came upon the village. The breeze brought your scent to me. Your attempts to hide your scent are nothing to me. I am familiar with the tricks of the Luparii.”

  She had been revealed. They knew she was there and stared, their eyes glistening in the shadows. Two wolves grabbed her arms and took away her weapons and pulled back her hood. The pack barked as she was brought into the light. The Alpha walked down and approached her, exploding with anger.

  “Why have you intruded upon our territory?”

  His lips curled back as if he was getting ready to bite. His ears were aggressively erect and forward, and his hair was bristled.

  Red knew not to run. Wolves attacked you if you ran, but when you stood your ground, they wouldn’t attack – they would only tried to intimidate you into running

  “I’ll tear out your throat if you lie to me.”

  He grabbed onto her throat with his hands, but Red just looked at the flame. He noticed this and released her throat and stepped back.

  “It represents our unified spirit. That is why we chant and howl, to realign our spirits as one and regain our strength and focus,” he said to her with a low, gravelly, voice.

  His eyes are an incredible shade of red.

  “I am glad that you appreciate the color of my eyes.”

  Is he talking to me?

  “Who else would I be talking to?”

  Red paused and looked at him closely.

  These wolves…they…they can read my mind!

  He laughed heartily.

  “We cannot read the minds of anyone. We can read the minds of those within our pack. And of those … that … we … have … mated with.”

  Fen.

  “I knew it was you,” Red said, coldly.

  “Mating for us...is for life. That night connected us forever. Our bond will never be broken.”

  “Well, you mean nothing to me. Let me go and I’ll break that bond, you’ll see.”

  “You are so different than when we first met.”

  “You destroyed who I was.”

  “Yet you are stronger now. You should thank me.”

  Red’s eyes burned into him.

  “You used me. You tried to kill me. You tried to kill my grandmother.”

  “I remember. Everyone here knows of what happened. All of my clan knows of each other’s history.”

  “How?”

  “Our consciousness has been stretched out, so that we can communicate with each other – it is the way of nature for all things to be connected – for we truly are a pack in all ways. Our energy left the shells of our heads and branched out into the world. And when these thoughts come together, it is beautiful alchemy. Nothing can hold in the primal energy of a werewolf - even our consciousness could not be restrained.”

  “Sounds like a lot of hot air. Y
ou read each other’s minds?”

  “You make it sound like a carnival sideshow. I know that you have had similar sensations since our time together – feelings, impressions.”

  Red just looked down.

  “Telepathy within a pack makes us feel like one. Like a single moving body, moving and thinking as one towards a common goal. Imagine every mind working in different ways but with one purpose. It’s as if you are reaching down, moving your hand, but instead are moving a group. Let yourself drift into the mindset of the collective. We are one mind with many thoughts.”

  “Does your common goal involve murder?”

  “We are moving towards working hand in hand with your culture. This one here that lies before us was responsible for that murder. We are taking him to the viceroy to show that we respect the laws of man.”

  “You’re clueless. You have no idea as to the present reality of your pack and what they are doing. There have been attacks all over the countryside.”

  “And what about the humans? They are oblivious. They are living with values forced upon them. They are not beings with free thought, but predetermined images. Their exterior, once crumbled, is so squishy and fragile. We do what we do because it is who we are.”

  “So if you are all about the group, why do you lead? What makes you so special?” she asked.

  Fen grinned wildly and malevolently.

  "I am not the leader. I am the culmination of all of our thoughts. I am our voice."

  “But how can you control them if you can’t yourself?”

  “Who says that anyone must have complete control? What creates control, anyways? Analysis? Logic? Ha! Do you honestly believe that intelligence and information hold unfathomable weight? That mindset will be your downfall. Other’s cheat. They do not care for your control. To survive in this world, you need something more.”

  “That will only lead to chaos,” said Red, harshly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t make the rules. This is the way the world is. There are others that are stronger than you because they do not play by your rules. Here are my rules: If you walk, I will run. If you run, I will run faster. I will do everything possible to get to the finish line before you, to catch and eat you before you escape. Control and hesitation are only a detriment when instinct takes over.”