Girl in the Red Coat
By
Gemma Owen-Kendall
Dedications
In loving memory of Patricia Jacqueline Turner, my Nana, who loved to read books just as much as I do now.
In loving memory of Mrs June Evans, my primary school teacher. She always told me that I had such a wild imagination.
Chapter 1.
I t was the year 1884 when the initial shape shifting werewolves walked the grounds of this Earth. Some claimed this to be a complication during the boys’ adolescence, but others would say they were cursed from childbirth by the Devil himself. Luckily for these teenagers, they weren’t alone; as they had one another to go through these changes, to have the ability to transform from a mortal being to werewolf and shift back repeatedly. There was no desire for a full moon to establish this development. The first of many shapeshifting wolves to have transitioned their bodies were teenage boys named Constantine and Magnus. Both were from an upscale household. Constantine was the son of the town’s local farmer and Magnus’s father was the town’s Mayor. The lads were educated at school and their health was exceptional; there wasn’t a flaw with either of them.
The transformation just happened one day on an autumn evening when Constantine and Magnus were trudging home from school. They chose to go an unusual route down an overgrown pathway. An area of the trees and hedges had been cut back and a pack of recently removed railway sleepers were layered up high. A fresh railway track was to be laid on what was once a public walkway, and the lads were keen to discover what it would look like once the new track was formed. The sunlight had slid behind the rest of the trees forming oddly shaped shadows and there were no lanterns along the path. Constantine dared Magnus to lead the way to the other side. So as not to appear a coward to his friend, Magnus bit his lip and braved the walkway.
The whistling breeze caught up and occupied the air with half-dead leaves that had dropped along the path. Magnus trod carefully along the track. His parents repeatedly instructed him to be mindful when he strolled home from school, that he should remain on the regular pathway at all costs, to never step on the busy roads and most of all, never talk to strangers. Even as he got older, they still warned Magnus of their strict instruction that he be safe at all times. Constantine’s parents had the same rule for their son. But the boys never listened. On their strolls to and from school they thought it hilarious to nudge each other onto the busy highways in front of horse-drawn carts and carriages, the drivers yelling at them for terrifying the horses. Magnus and Constantine would just laugh in return and dash suddenly away. Once, Magnus pushed Constantine in the path of a policeman on patrol, riding a stallion. To teach them a lesson the lads were seized and thrown in a jail cell to settle down, putting their fathers’ reputations on the line.
Florence, the chief of police’s only daughter, was in the same school year as Magnus and Constantine. She took a shine to them and the lads took a liking to her. She pleaded with her dad to set them free. Her father dropped the charges, under the condition that they leave their homes only go to and from school. He warned that if they continued their mischievous behaviour, they would be removed from school early and forced to fight in the army. The boys were freed from jail the day before they decided to take that different route home along the railway track.
At school, Florence had been happy to see them and hugged them, individually. They couldn’t tell who she liked the most. Sometimes, she would choose to chat to Magnus more than Constantine and other days she would talk with Constantine more than Magnus. However, the lads who had formed a brotherly bond, agreed that they would not let their feelings for Florence impede their friendship.
Florence, with her golden blonde hair full of curly locks and her red-hooded cloak, wasn’t your usual teenage schoolgirl. There was something mysterious about her, but no one could figure out what it could be. Some would say she was into witchery and others said she was a freak of nature. All the young woman did was leave her home to walk to school and then, as school finished, would stroll straight back and wouldn’t be seen until the next day.
Magnus and Constantine once spied on Florence on her trek home, as she held tightly to the basket that held her schoolbooks. She hadn’t noticed they were watching as her head was down to avoid having to speak to anyone. When she reached her house, she went straight to her chamber. The boys watched with anticipation, hoping to learn what she got up to, and all they saw was her walking around a huge object in the centre of her room. Now and then it looked as if she had thrown some herbs or plants into whatever it was. Perhaps this was soup she was putting together for her family, Florence’s mother was dying and as the next eldest female in the home, she had the duty to help feed the family during meal times. Soon they became bored watching Florence and her soup making. They left not realising that she had spotted them standing outside, gazing up into her chamber window. The only thing they had become excited about was seeing Florence remove some of her clothes, revealing her under garments.
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Crunch crunch crunch was the sound of their feet on the leaves along the pathway. In the distance they could see a shadowy figure who appeared to be sitting on the ground. As they got closer, they saw a man or boy with long, jet-black hair and around his head was a band with a couple of feathers attached to it. A soft drumbeat along with a chanting came from the mysterious shadow. Magnus and Constantine glanced at each other and knew that curiosity had got the better of them; they wanted to see what he was up to. They treaded carefully, trying not to disturb the stranger. When the chanting and the drumming stopped, they realised that they already had. The man looked up at them.
‘Hello. I’ve been expecting you both. Please do not look puzzled, I am a friend.’
‘How were you expecting us?’ asked Constantine.
‘You have both been chosen from the gods above to keep this town safe from unknown darkened forces that invade upon you all. I’ve come to help you both unravel your gifts and set free your spirit guide.’
‘Spirit guide? What are you talking about, you old fool?’ snapped a startled Magnus.
‘Now, now, my friend. No need for that tone in your voice. All will make sense in due course. As I said, I am here to help you both. For starters, the lovely girl in the red cloak you follow round, she needs your protection.’
‘Florence, you mean? Why? What is wrong with her?’ demanded Constantine.
‘She is not an ordinary girl. Her mother and grandmother are spellcasters. That is, in your language, a witch – but of the good kind. The spellcasters are chosen selectively by mother nature, a girl does not know she is chosen until she reaches the change that makes her a woman. And yourselves, you are both going through a change that will develop your own gifts.’
They glanced at each other, confused, but very intrigued to know more. Who were these spellcasters and what gifts did they have within themselves? Constantine looked down at his shoes as he started to feel a twinge from his left big toe which then shot through to his ankle, moving rapidly to the other foot and then all the way up to his groan. He did not understand what was happening but at the same time Magnus felt the same pain. The boys were indeed going through some kind of change. As their eyes turned black, they realised that this was happening to them both. The man disappeared. No trace of him was left behind, as if he had vanished into thin air.
The boys, alarmed by their encounter, rushed off to their homes and went to bed early without supper. Constantine tried to forget all about it, thinking instead about Florence, about how beautiful she was. This was his first ever crush on a girl of his age. But was she really what the stranger had said she was? One of those spellcasters? Were he and Magnus tru
ly chosen as her protectors? All of these thoughts were playing through his mind as he drifted off to sleep.
He dreamt of a white wolf and a young girl who very much looked like Florence. They were standing on the edge of a forest covered in snow, with a mountain range nearby. Florence gazed up towards the sky, wondering at how beautiful the snowflakes were that fell upon them. The white wolf changed into a human boy that looked to be like himself. Florence approached him and handed him some robes to cover up. They gazed at each other.
Constantine knew that he was in a dream, but he did not know that at that moment, Florence and Magnus were experiencing the same dream.
He held his hand to her, which she gladly took, and they walked the few steps in the snow to the forest. But in the shadows of the opening of the trees, a silhouette of another wolf lurked nearby. Florence and Constantine had not noticed this other wolf; they were enjoying each other’s company too much to even notice. This wolf had black fur and huge white teeth. It crept out of the shadows and charged towards them. They searched for something to throw at the creature. It charged at Constantine and dragged the young man out of the way. Florence, though full of fear, gazed directly at the black wolf. It slowly approached her. She dropped to her knees and she knew who the black wolf was and what he wanted to take from her. Too scared to fight back, Florence slowly untied her cloak, then her robe, warm, salty tears falling over her cheeks. The black wolf changed shape into a human. He looked very much like Magnus. Bending down, he kissed her. Her body froze, then went limp as though she didn’t have the strength inside her to fight him off.
Magnus placed her to the snowy ground. She felt the cold, wet earth beneath her naked back. Removing the rest of her clothes, he gently kissed her neck, moving his mouth towards her chest. Suddenly, the white wolf appeared and charged at Magnus. Teeth clenched, it flew on top of him and took a bite out of his right arm. Magnus let out a high-pitched howl, a noise so unbearable, it threw back the white wolf. The blood from his arm dripped rapidly to the ground and he wrapped some cloth over the wound to try and stop the bleeding.
The white wolf switched back to Constantine as he ran to Florence. Something made him want to kiss her and, as he met her blue lips, they turned back to rose red and she was able to move again. Constantine wrapped her in her robes to warm her as Magnus stalked over to them.
‘She is mine, you can’t have her,’ yelled Magnus.
‘If you want her you will have to come through me, I will not let you harm her! We are supposed to protect her.’
‘That is why I must have her; can you not sense her pure blood pumping away? Does it not make you hungry for her innocence?’
‘She will not be enslaved by you for the rest of her life. I will not let that happen. She is too important to me.’
‘Well then, I guess you will have to die my friend, as she is mine.’
Magnus’s eyes turned to black and his fingernails became claws as the same transformation mutated Constantine; they sprung at each other. It all happened so fast; their bodies were sliced and gouged then Magnus pinned Constantine.
Florence rose to her feet and moved towards them. Clenching her fists, they formed two glowing balls which she shot at Magnus, which threw him from Constantine onto the snowy ground, unconscious.
‘All being well, that should hold him down for a while,’ she told Constantine.
Constantine smiled. As he approached her, Florence dropped her robes to the ground, and she returned his smile.
‘What are you doing?’ he timidly asked her.
‘I choose you as my first, I choose you as the one.’
Offering him her hand, he pulled her into his embrace. Stroking the small of her back and placing his lips to hers, she gladly received the kiss and returned it with passion. He drew back, trembling, feeling nervous.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked him, tenderly.
‘I’m sorry, it is just I haven’t done anything like this before. Are you sure you want this?’ he asked her softly.
‘This is something neither of us have done before, but I want you so badly. This feels so right for me, I hope it does for you, too.’
His nerves became passion, as he pulled her in closer and she ran her hands through his hair. Lowering her to the ground and laying her upon her robes, he moved his lips lower to her chest, whilst his hand ran along her right thigh, moving closer towards her innocence. Her breath quickened as she enjoyed his touch upon her naked body.
‘Are you sure you are ready for this?’ he asked again.
‘Yes,’ she replied, joyfully.
Laying fully atop her, he inserted himself between her legs, moving slowly and gently. He wanted to avoid hurting her. She let out a scream, but this soon became a cry of pleasure and excitement for her ‘first time’.
As the snowstorm calmed, the wind swirled the snow in a circle as though creating a wall around them. The magic of the moment filled the air as they enjoyed each other.
Was this happening or was it a dream?
Constantine lay beside her and she rolled into his arms and shut her tired eyes. He stroked her hair, considering the wonder of what had just happened between them. Nothing could take this away from them.
‘I love you Florence,’ he whispered.
‘I love you too,’ she sighed in return.
‘I know I am young but for what it is worth I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, Florence. I have loved you from the moment I first met you. I hope this is real and not some kind of dream. I do not know how I got here but I have loved being here with you.’
Suddenly, Magnus appeared through the wall of snow. Although disoriented from his heavy sleep, he could see that Constantine had taken from him that which he most wanted. His anger drew up the hairs on his back, his eyes grew bigger and turned black, his fingernails became claws and his teeth were now fangs. His bellowing howl disturbed the couple from their embrace.
‘Magnus, what big eyes you have!’ Florence exclaimed.
‘Well I guess this is the better to see you with and to see what you have done.’
‘Magnus, what big teeth you have!’
‘All the better to eat at a piece of your flesh. Now you have been tainted, I can’t enslave you to be mine forever, so I will have you another way!’
‘You will not touch her!’ yelled Constantine, ‘You will have to come through me!’
Constantine called out his own howl and transformed into the white wolf. He charged at Magnus, who leapt out of the way and then himself launched at Constantine. Florence hastily tried to dress but as she stood, she recoiled from the pain from losing her purity, collapsing back to the ground and falling unconscious.
Constantine, as the white wolf, stopped in his tracks, sensing something wrong with Florence, then ran to her. Sniffing her hair and nudging her cheek with his snout, he tried to wake her. Magnus the wolf, leapt at them, scratching her cheek and drawing blood. He lapped at his claw, tasting the warm, red liquid.
‘Though you may no longer be pure, I will still have you as my own,’ he said to her unconscious form.
Pushing her onto her back, the robes fell away revealing her body to him. Atop of her, he ripped away the rags that remained on his lower half. As he began to kiss her lips, the human Constantine threw the black wolf off of her.
‘Don’t you even think about it.’
‘You are foolish to believe that she ever wanted you.’
‘Well she must have wanted me because I love her, and she loves me back. She chose me as her first and the one to be her protector. I will let no harm come to her.’
Magnus howled again and their bodies clashed, Magnus digging his claws right into Constantine’s abdomen and twisting them in the contents of his stomach. Coughing blood, as he fell, Constantine used his last ounce of strength to form his own fingernails into claws, ripping out Magnus’s heart.
Their lifeless bodies hit the ice-cold ground.
Florence woke up. She was in her be
droom. Glancing down at herself she saw that her bed sheets were covered in her blood. Worried as to what her parents would say, she packed a bag with a few clothes and a leather-bound notebook and ran away.
She later discovered that she was pregnant with a boy.
As for Constantine and Magnus, they never woke up from their dreams. Their parents found their bodies in their own beds, covered in blood. Constantine was bleeding from his stomach and Magnus was bleeding from his chest. No doctors could ever explain how or why they had both died or how they had received such terrible injuries.
Chapter 2.
I was just like any ordinary teenage girl, hating having to deal with changing from a child to becoming a woman. I could not stand that my body was transforming. Like my friends, I had to get to grips with the idea of what lust and love actually was, that boys would be going through similar changes themselves and dealing with matters differently to girls. I had often heard of strange theories that some boys and girls who went through this change would develop animal-like instincts, even becoming wolves! But as far as I was aware, this hadn’t happened for centuries. An ancestor of mine had left a journal from her encounter with one of these human-wolves – a werewolf – and told of how he protected her from an evil clan of wolves that wanted to take her purity. The victims of this particular werewolf clan were chosen selectively, carefully. This event in my ancestor’s life was the last time that it was known that a werewolf had existed. But I was never convinced that this was true at all. I know how terrible events can manipulate the mind to believe something is happening, but it isn’t quite how they remembered it. Who would have thought that people turning into werewolves could actually happen!
But. I could not have been more wrong.
Looking back at what happened still haunts me and I imagine that it will for the rest of my life. But it has made me the stronger person that I am today.
And if it had not happened, I would not have him, my protector.
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