Beast

Four hundred years ago..... Corpses decorated the battle field. The green ground is now covered in a thick blanket of red moisture. Blood. He, the helm of this mass murder,was leaning against a century old gigantic oak tree, watching the scene unfold before him with nothing but amusement. The albino wolf, who lead a five thousand warrior wolf force in the battlefield against him, is now in his human form, and was having trouble dragging his naked body across the muddy earth. The absence of his left leg had actually started to bother him, gradually sabotaging his hope of getting back to the pack's hideout. He growled in frustration and agony, finally summarising his snail-paced efforts are useless. He took a deep breath. The air he inhaled smelt of blood. The blood shed by his fellowmen. Hope. As distant as it sounds, the blood on his hands reminded him he could still go on. And so he will try, untill the very last drop of his blood dries up. He clicked his tongue in appreciation. The albino's will power has managed to impress him in the tiniest way possible. Very diminutive, but it still did. He tilted his head a millimetre to his right, liking the way how gashes and lesions embellished the albino's body. If he did have the time, he sure would wait to watch his last target's struggle for life. But now he had to cut the show halfway, cause he could already sense her presence. Much to his dismay. But the thought of seeking his long awaited gift, something he has spent searching for ten years, concerned him more. It took him only a second to appear before the struggling wolf. Eburdhart-Alpha of the the northern provinces, nightmare of his own people, was now at the mercy of him. The albino was roughly flipped over his back. He had to cover his eyes with his fore arms to block the sunlight from burning his eyes. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the brightness but he still refused to open them. Nearly half of the werewolf and the vampire population has been wiped off the face of the earth. His sapphire eyes reflecting the warm red colour of blood, cloaking the ground. The war has been going for six hours.