Wolfish has a minion!

Black Magic the 13th Cat

Legacy Name: Wolfish

The Bloodred Telenine
Owner: SEOUL

Age: 10 years, 4 weeks, 2 days

Born: July 19th, 2012

Adopted: 10 years, 4 weeks, 2 days ago

Adopted: July 19th, 2012

Pet Spotlight Winner
November 18th, 2015


  • Level: 1
  • Strength: 10
  • Defense: 10
  • Speed: 10
  • Health: 10
  • HP: 1/10
  • Intelligence: 0
  • Books Read: 0
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed

Once Upon A Full Moon...

It is abnormal for more than three trainees to survive the grueling training courses that determine which are fit for field testing. There are five youths before me. I do not care for their names or what status they held before entering the program. Tonight they are Solo, Duo, Tri, Quad, and Quint.

Solo smirks as he takes in my appearance. To this arrogant class leader I look like an old man ready to hand over my life's mission to a quicker set of hands. He will learn his folly or die. It makes no difference to me.

They melt into the shadows of the trees at my signal, no doubt keeping an eye on the horizon. It is the night of the full moon, ideal for the task set before them, and these glory-driven fools willingly seek the most vile creatures of the supernatural world. They will see more than they can stomach by the time dawn reduces the wretched werewolf race back to mere men.

I know from personal experience.


I sought the path to immortality, only to learn it is bathed in blood.

I stalked the supernatural, intent on eliminating its foul influence from the face of the earth. I burned countless witches and warlocks, drowning their familiars in the same salt lakes where their ashes were spread. I cut off the heads of vampires , careful not to be polluted by their blood. It was I who invented the special silver bolts that could demolish an entire pack of werewolves in one night.

It was as I lay sick with fever that I realized how feeble my efforts were. My body would be laid as a banquet for worms while the villains dreamed up in some devil's mind would go on polluting and decreasing the human population. One lifetime could never be enough to achieve my purpose. Worse still was the decline in hunters such as myself. The minds of men were turning to science to explain away frightening noises in the night, giving evil all the more room to put down roots.

I knew of a place where even the great hunters dared not go. The wolf there was said to be a member of the original pack, so decrepit with age that only one tooth remained in his jaw. His human body was frail and twisted with age, pathetic to look upon. His tooth was a jagged black point that emphasized his wet pink lips. He smiled and beckoned me into a cave littered with the bones of small animals. He did not even have the strength to seek real prey any longer.

He was the last of that race that allowed his blood to flow into the devil's cup, accepting the wolf's shape in return. I was convinced that the one able to take his life could ask any reward of heaven, even the secret of eternal life. Living to see the last seed of evil perish from the earth was worth more than any degree of riches.

"Come in, child of man. The hour is safe, for the caress of the moon reaches me only when she is at her peak."

Curse me for a fool, but I believed him.

"You would know the glorious power of the shapeshifter's form, would you? You would run on legs that never cramp or tire and feast on the blood of your enemies."

"I abhor you and your entire race. I have come here to kill you."

He cackled, a wheezing laugh that sounded almost like the barking of a dog. "Aye, your brain encourages such a course but after six centuries, I can read the hearts of men. You want to live eternally, not comprehending what it means to live in eternal night."

My lip curled in disdain. "I want nothing from you."

The barb was in my hand, one shaped from the purest silver. I did not strike. He bared his neck to me, yellow eyes staring into mine.

"Take your blow, boy. Give peace to the many I have wronged."

I almost believed he was sincere until he lunged at me with an unearthly snarl, sinking that one jagged tooth deep into my shoulder.

Excruciating pain numbed by gradual degrees. My wound had been dressed and the brute's blood washed from my body but my rescuers still believed in the old ways. They were religious enough not to let me die of blood loss but they would not have me in their midst for one day longer than necessary.

The first transformation came when I was sleeping beneath the sheltering braches of a tree. I woke to find my clothes covered in blood that was not mine. I returned to my home, burning the tattered outfit and changing to the armor my father had worn in his soldiering days. In time I would acquire trophies befitting the armor of a great warrior. The teeth of my kills line the shoulder pads, marking the progress of my quest of extermination. There are still many slots awaiting ornamentation.

I was relieved to discover it was only a trio of sheep that had been slaughtered in the night. I left a sack of gold in the hands of the bewildered farmer. Money was no issue as my mother left me a substantial sum. He no doubt saw me as an angel though I realized I was quite the opposite. I could not deny what I had become, not if I wanted to keep my murder record spotless.

Every day I tried to find new ways to end my existence. I no longer considered it life.

Leaping from a cliff into the ocean left me wet. Leaping to the flames of a burning barn charred my suit to ashes without leaving so much as a mark on my skin. The teeth of normal wolves could not pierce my skin though I rolled myself in the butcher's refuse and made myself an easy target. When the dreaded night of the full moon came, I made it a point to remove myself from even the most remote villages. The bear population of my homeland was drastically reduced, baffling foresters who had resigned themselves to giving up some portion of their trappings.

As I resisted the lure of human flesh, my wolf brain began to take on human knowledge. Regardless of my form, I was able to think clearly. I will not glorify myself by saying I never slipped up, but my record was cleaner than some humans I have known.

The Society gradually took shape. My hunters were formed through bitter experience, many dying or changing before their thirtieth year. They learned to bribe and threaten the right people, spreading fear as the local werewolf packs shrank. We took the blame when villagers went missing, yet our services were readily called for when mournful cries pierced the silence of the night.

Only one was allowed to live in each trainee batch. That one was made aware of just who they would be working for. Those who could not handle the truth did not suffer the knowledge another hour. My more hardened associates take their missions from me but we are always seeking to expand. Ours is not a life for the squeamish.


It is down to Solo and Quad now. Quint fell almost instantly, failing to get so much as a shot off before the silver-haired werewolf he'd cornered went for his throat. Duo and Tri teamed up unsuccessfully. They were too busy trying to outdo the kills of the next one over that both failed to notice the pair of brothers with blood on their muzzles.

Solo clearly has the advantage of brute strength but cannot hope to match quad for stealth. His eyes widen as the wolf in his sights is brought low by a much bigger adversary. I will not stand idle on a hunt. Werewolves are pack-minded, much like their distant cousins. They cannot comprehend such treachery until my teeth meet in their neck. By the time their reduced brains figure out this troubling development, they are too weak to put much force behind their blows. I rip a tooth from my opponent's jaw before he can shift to his untainted human form. Another armor slot will be filled tonight.

Solo's bolt goes far to the left, as I knew it would. The boy is too predictable. By the time he's done cursing himself out and looking around for observers I am long gone.

It is just as I suspected. He is much more concerned with looking good than being good. I double back, leaping on him and snapping his neck before he can utter a scream.

Quad has held her own. Her kill's slender body twitches, gradually resuming the form of the boy whose life was tainted by a monstrous bite. His pale curls are tinted with fiery light as the sun breaks over the eastern horizon. Quad's head snaps up at the breaking of a twig. The sound was intentional. The bolt she had trained on my heart is lowered to point at the ground.

There is no fear in her face as she learns the truth. She shoulders the special crossbow that will be the guardian of her life. "How about if I save you for last?"

The grin I offer in reply is downright wolfish.


Profile by:Ringo

Story by: Pureflower

Overlay by: User not found: rottweiler

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