Blood Moon Rising

The full moon hung heavy in the inky black sky, its pale light filtering through the forest canopy. Zara shivered, though she couldn't tell if it was from the chill night air or the dread coiling in her gut. She quickened her pace along the narrow dirt path, the crunch of leaves and snap of twigs beneath her boots far louder than it should be. Her breaths came in panicked gasps, crystalizing on each exhale. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder, knowing that whatever was stalking her would surely pounce if she showed fear. A low growl resonated from somewhere in the shadows behind her. Not animal, but not quite human either. Her heart felt like it might batter through her ribs. "I know you're there," Zara called out with as much false bravado as she could muster. "Whatever you are, you don't want to do this." A rumbling snarl was her only answer, sending an icy spike of terror up her spine. She broke into a flat sprint, branches whipping across her face as she tore through the trees. Zara's foot snagged on a gnarly root and she went sprawling to the ground, the wind knocked from her lungs. Scrabbling in the dirt and leaves, frantic to get upright, she heard the sound of massive paws thudding toward her. She rolled onto her back just as an enormous beast emerged from the foliage, its hulking form outlined by moonglow. Wiry dark fur covered its body from snout to tail, muscles rippling underneath. Its lips curled up in a vicious snarl, exposing long curved fangs dripping with saliva. Zara scrambled backwards in horror, fumbling for the knife sheathed at her belt, but the wolf-like creature merely lowered its head and uttered a menacing growl. Those eyes - those fathomless black pools bored straight into her soul with an intelligence that chilled her more than the fearsome jaws or razor-sharp talons. The werewolf launched itself at Zara with terrifying speed. She reflexively threw up her arm in a futile attempt to shield herself, bracing for tearing flesh and crushing bone. But the anticipated blows never landed. Instead, she was firmly pinned to the ground by the beast's immense weight, its fetid breath hot and rancid on her face. Zara squeezed her eyes shut, too petrified to even scream. "Look at me," a guttural, inhuman voice demanded. Zara's eyes flew open in shock. The werewolf's maw was mere inches from her, molten eyes boring into her with an intensity that seemed to sear into her very soul. "You have been chosen," it continued, each gravelly word dripping with malice. "The blood moon is nearly upon us. You will join our pack...or be the first feast for our new order." Its rank saliva dripped onto her cheek as it spoke, singeing her skin like acid. Zara attempted to twist free from its grip, but the werewolf's claws dug cruelly into her arms, rendering her immobile. Through her panic, her mind raced. Blood moon? Order? None of it made any sense. All she knew was that she needed to get away from this...thing. Drawing upon every last reserve of courage, Zara turned her head and spat directly into the werewolf's eye. It unleashed a bone-chilling roar of rage and recoiled, giving her just enough space to wrench her arm free. With a surge of adrenaline, she swung her fist with all her might, landing a solid blow against the werewolf's already blinded eye. Its howl shook the trees around them as it stumbled backwards, pawing at its ruined eye socket. Not wasting a split second, Zara scrambled to her feet and took off like a shot, sprinting through the forest with no destination in mind except away from that hellish creature. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs gave way, finally collapsing in a trembling heap. As she gasped for air, her mind whirled. What the hell just happened? And what did it want with her? She continued to run tearing blindly through the forest. Her ragged breaths sawing in and out, as branches whipped across her face. Zara's every muscle screamed in protest, but the thought of stopping, of being caught again by those monsters, was unfathomable. Suddenly, her foot plunged into empty space and she was tumbling down a steep embankment, careening head over heels in a shower of dirt and rocks. A searing pain lanced through her ankle as she hit the bottom with a bone-jarring thud. Zara cried out, cradling her throbbing leg as realization sank in - she'd broken her ankle, maybe even shattered it from the unnatural angle it bent. Tears of panic and agony blurred her vision as she strained to make out her surroundings in the inky darkness. Up ahead through the tangle of ferns and brambles, a dim flickering light pierced the blackness. A campfire? Smoke? Dear god, please let there be other people out here... Gritting her teeth against the fiery daggers of pain, Zara began dragging herself forward in desperation, clawing her way through the underbrush inch by agonizing inch. Her nails tore and her palms were soon shredded and slick with blood, but she pressed relentlessly on toward that beckoning glow. The mournful howl of the werewolf split the night once more. Closer now. So much closer. Her own terrified whimpers mingled with the eerie chorus of night creatures falling deathly silent at the unnatural sound. "Help!" Zara screamed hoarsely into the darkness as a huge form appeared at the top of the ridge, a hulking silhouette awash in moonlight. "Someone, please! Hel-" Her frantic cries dissolved into a gurgling croak as something slammed into the back of her head with staggering force. Dazed, she collapsed to the ground, metallic warmth spreading from the back of her skull. Through her darkening haze of confusion and shock, she caught a glimpse of a large figure striding toward her, a long curved blade clutched in one hand that dripped with her own blood. Then everything faded to black. After a while, Zara's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry and disoriented. A throbbing ache pounded behind her eyes in time with the piercing ringing in her ears. She went to raise her hand to her tender skull, but a jolt of panic surged through her as she realized her wrists were bound behind her back. Blinking rapidly, Zara took stock of her surroundings. She was seated against a massive oak tree, its gnarled roots digging painfully into her back. Dancing shadows from a flickering campfire danced across the forest clearing around her. A figure stepped into the firelight, silhouetted against the bright blaze. Zara's breath hitched in her throat as the enormous man's features were thrown into stark relief. His face was a twisted mask of scars and blistered flesh as if he had suffered terrible burns across one side. A swathe of coarse hair ran down the ruined visage and thick corded neck. "Wh-who are you? What do you want from me?" Zara croaked out, frantically testing the coarse ropes binding her wrists. The disfigured man regarded her with an inscrutable intensity before responding in a rumbling baritone. "I am Darius. And you, regrettably, have been chosen and tainted by one of the children of the night." He spat the last words with clear disdain. Zara stared at him uncomprehendingly for a long moment before realization set in like a kicked stomach. "The...the werewolf," she breathed out, the memory of those feral, soulless black eyes searing into her mind. Her gaze dropped instinctively to the vicious gashes on her forearm where the beast's claws had raked her flesh. "But that's...that's impossible. It can't be real." "I assure you, it is all too real," Dairus said grimly. "The Lycans have existed in the shadows since the dawn of civilization itself. Abominations cursed to straddle the line between man and beast, consumed by an insatiable bloodlust during the full moon's cycle." Zara felt her head spinning, black spots flickering across her vision as she struggled to process this. Werewolves...they were just movies and folklore, horror stories to frighten children around the campfire. Not...not real. But if that was true, what did this scarred man's raving about Lycans mean? And more importantly, what happened after she'd blacked out from the savage blow to her head? "Start making sense!" she demanded, the tremor in her voice betraying her bravado. "Who are you people? What's going on?" Darius regarded her for a long moment before speaking again, his words utterly chilling. "We are the Venators. The hunters. And I'm afraid you are our newest recruit...whether you like it or not."