The Warlock

The Wolf howled long and loud. He stood at the crest of the hill, overlooking the valley where the dense forest , the tall trees gleamed eerily in the light of the Crimson Moon. He was a large creature, streaked silver and black. His glossy body was bathed in the moonlight, and he howled again, pouring out his grief and his sorrow to the Moon.

Suddenly, a sound disturbed him; the crackling of the twigs underfoot as a little figure burst into the clearing below him suddenly. It was a young woman, little more than a teenager, crashing wildly through the trees. Her long red hair flowed out behind her like a banner, and even as far away as he was, he could sense her terror as she fled. The Wolf narrowed his silver eyes as he watched her, his head swinging to seek the source of her blind terror.

The wild whooping of men as they chased the little figure made him stiffen, his head cocked to the side as he followed their progress.

Three men. And all of them were pursuing one young woman who, even as he watched, stumbled and fell onto a bed of dry leaves.

His gaze sharpened; he knew she could not move, could not flee, as she struggled to her knees helplessly. Yet, even from this distance, he could sense her determination to fight the men.

The Wolf looked back at her, something in her awakening his deep instincts.

*

Cara

I ran blindly in the darkness, guided by the moonlight that could be seen in patches through the thick undergrowth. I was panting, and there was a severe stitch in my side as I shot headlong through the dense woods. My feet hurt; I had lost my shiny new shoes somewhere behind me, but they would have been of no use anyway. The ground was hard, and the small stones made me lose my balance many times. The soles of my feet were torn and bruised, but I kept on running and panting.

I seemed to have tunnel vision, focusing purely on getting away , running from the young men who were chasing me.

The sounds of the youths following me seemed clearer; they were getting closer.

One of them was yelling,

“Where’s that f*cking bit*h?’

A loud hoot echoed as one of them began to yell,

“We’re coming for you, baby!”

That was Warren.

*

He was the oldest of the group and the one I feared the most with his pale green eyes that stripped your clothes away with his lecherous gaze. His long blonde hair flopped onto his face and most of the girls thought he was hot and a hunk worth dying for.

Not me.

I had disliked him on sight.

His swagger and the way he treated the girls with him, using them like objects to be used and then discarded, had made me see red.

Circulating in student parties, a girl draped over each arm, both of whom he ignored royally as he flirted with the other girls present. Only to touch and grope his girls when he felt like it.

He had probably sensed my dislike. But that had only egged him on and made him want to break me.

He was, after all, one of the elite in the college, the son of old Johnson, who owned half of Smokey Valley, the little university town I stayed at. The nearest city was Holloway, but it was miles away. Smokey Valley was a little kingdom where the Johnson family reigned supreme.

Warren was very aware that he was the scion of the business empire that included the lowly diner my mom worked at and the local newspaper where my stepdad Brian was employed. Perhaps it had been my disdain that had made me seem attractive to him. But something about the fellow made my skin crawl. And the more I tried to avoid him, the more he kept appearing, trying to make me another of his conquests.

‘Hey Red!’ he would call as I walked past, trying to blend into the background and avoid him.

He kept addressing me as Red because of my flame-coloured curly hair that came down to my waist. I generally braided it or wore it in a messy bun. But he had noticed the shiny tresses I desperately tried to disguise and never forgot to shout out “Red!’ to draw attention to my hair.

Knowing that I hated it.

When I glared at him, he pretended to drop dead.

Hooting, “the Green Eyed Monster’s in town," his friends and he would double over in laughter as I hurried away, my ears burning.