Painful Revenge

Chapter 3

A Pack Torn Apart

The sun had barely risen, casting the first weak rays of dawn over the village, when the news spread like wildfire. Found the elder's house in ruins, cracked from inside to outside, and the grounds drenched with blood. In the town square were all the village elders, gathered with very grim faces, murmuring to themselves and hashing out the terrors of the night. No one said it aloud, but it was clear—a werewolf had been among them. And not just any werewolf, but one from the Beta family: the family that had ruled and protected them for generations.

Fear and confusion rippled through the village in much the same way the disease had, turning neighbors into suspects, friends into foes. There were., of course, by now whispers in the air: accusations, denials; who could have done this? Supposedly, the Beta family was to be their guardians, the first and last line of defense against the darkness that lurked in the shadows. If one of them had turned, what hope did the rest of them have?

Raja had returned to the village the hour before sunrise, secretly sliding under the door in the dim light and raging storm, having washed his body from the blood, clothed his wound, steeled for whatever was going to happen. But now he was standing in the shadow behind the village square, hearing the fretted debates, and he knew the village was already on the brink of chaos. Not only had him been claimed by the curse; it had started to tear apart the very fabric of the pack.

The pack of the village had been something more than a pack of werewolves; it was a closely knit community, tied to one another by ancient laws, and by old rituals. The Betas had always taken front center, their word being law, but now that Raja had fallen to the curse, everything was in question. They weren't just scared of him; they were, in fact, scared of what he stood for, the fragility of the order that they all depended on.

A feeling of guilt swept suddenly over Raja as the elder, a grizzled man with a face like a war-torn map, his eyes like diamonds spoke to the gathered villagers. He unrolled a speech on duty, on the need for strength in such dire circumstances, but the conviction had been lost in his words. The villagers could feel the fear in his voice, the uncertainty in his posture. And they all knew though no one said anything that the control of the Betas had been weakened.

Raja knew he had to act fast. The journals he had read the previous night had reluctantly revealed a ritual, an already dangerous and ancient rite that could possibly sever the hold of the curse on him. But the ritual took the strength of the pack, their unity, and trust. Now, with the pack in turmoil over an issue, that strength had vaporized into suspicion and fear.

The villagers gradually started to mumble among themselves, raising their voices higher as the elder scrambled between them in the hope of holding them at bay. The talk slowly grew into a shouting match with accusations flying in the air. Actually, some brought up the argument that the Betas ought to have known about the curse way back, while others were saying that the curse was brought by the heavens because the pack had veered off the right path. Raja watched them and saw that the old alliances were breaking up, while new factions, desperate ones at that, were being formed.

He knew he couldn't stay hidden for long. The longer he waited, the more that the pack would tear itself apart and the less likely to come together again, able to help him perform the ritual. But how in the world was he to step out, knowing full well that he was an object of fear from within them, or how was he to make them trust him when really he couldn't be able to legitimately trust himself?

As the argument in the square grew louder and louder, Raja inhaled deeply and stepped forward into the light. The villagers were struck silent at the sight of him, their eyes going big with shock and fear. The suspicion gathered on their faces, turning into the cement of doubt. But he could not afford to back out now.

"You guys all must be thinking," Raja started, and he sounded so sure while there was a storm going on inside him: "And you would be correct. I am cursed; the Blood Moon has claimed me, much like how it did my father, and his fathers before him. But that doesn't necessarily mean we are doomed. There's a way this thing can be over: I need your help."

The elder stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied Raja. "You're asking us to trust you, when you've brought this curse upon us?" he said, his voice cold. "How do we know you're not just another monster waiting to tear us apart?

"I am a monster," he said, and the weight of the words seemed to reverberate through the crowd. "But I'm still me. I've not lost control yet, and I won't. If we do nothing, the curse will spread; it will consume me, and then it will come for you, your families, and this village. But if we work together, we can stop it.

The villagers' frightened eyes flicked uncertain looks between several of them, at war with the microscopic forms of hope Raja's words had invoked. The elder did not speak; in fact, his eyes raked Raja's face, as though seeing one invitation and trying to ward it off with subterfuge, until finally, minutes that had begun to feel precious lengthened out to what seemed actually tenable, and the elder flicked a nod.

"What do you need us to do?" he asked, his voice defined with the gravitas of making a decision.

Raja let out a relieved breath. "There is a ritual," he said, "an old rite passed down in the bloodline of my family. This is hella dangerous and asks for the strength of the whole pack. That's why now, if we make it this ship can be broken."

The elder frowned skeptically. "What if we don't?

"Then the curse will claim me completely," Raja said, his voice firm. "And I will become the very thing you fear. But I'd rather die trying to save us all than live knowing I didn't do everything in my power to stop it."

The old man hushed, facing the multitude. "Raja Beta says nothing but the truth," he spoke out to the gathered crowd in the square. "This curse has been with his family for generations, but it doesn't have to be continued. We've passed through danger once, and we've always survived because we were together. This time is no different.

The villagers murmured a soft consensus, fear starting to fade into a weak show of determination. Raja could see the resolve slowly building in their eyes, the strength of the pack gradually coming back. Still, many hesitated, the doubts and suspicions hanging like a dark cloud over them in the air.

"I know this isn't easy," Raja said to the crowd once more. "But we have to trust each other. If we will let ourselves be divided by fear, then the curse wins. But if we stay together, we can break it, and not just for me, but for every one of us."

The elder nodded, his expression resolute. "We'll do what needs to be done. But remember, Raja, if you lose control, if the beast takes over, we won't hesitate to do what's necessary.

Raja nodded back, knowing fully the weight of the elder's words. The pack was ready to fight with him but also ready with finality if ever he posed a threat to the village. He was a risk they needed to take.

And Raja, with the tentative support of the pack, started to prepare for the ritual. The elder told the villagers to gather different herbs, candles, and ancient symbols that had passed down by the generations. The storm was over, the village was damp, and deathly silent; it was as though the very earth was holding its breath.

As preparations intensified, Raja was there alone with his thoughts. Not only was the ritual dangerous for him, but it also held potential danger for the rest. If anything went wrong, the curse would have him for sure. Also, they could hold an uncertainty of containing it too without spreading it, which would create a nightmare much worse than the one they were living. But there was no other way for Raja to be free from the clutches of the curse.

He thought of his family, his father and great-grandfather, and all the others who he had ever consumed before. They had fought it, tried very much to keep it in control, but none had ever succeeded. Raja was determined for a difference, and wanted to bring an end to the cycle of pain that had continued over his family for over a century.

As the sun went down and the village was cast into long shadows, the whole pack gathered in the clearing in front of the Beta home. The air was thick with tension, the scent of fear mixing with the earthy aroma of the herbs and the acrid tang of burning candles. Raja stood at the center of the circle, the eyes of the largest wolves following him as he prepared to confront the darkness within.

He closed his eyes and traced the ancient symbols in the dirt before he started chanting himself, the sound coming low and steady. The rest of the pack started chiming in as well, their voices rising one on top of the other in an eerie melody, seeming to echo through the trees. Raja felt the power of the ritual begin, a tingling all over his body as the air around him crackled with energy.

That natural, wolf-inside-him sent a snarl of its own rolling toward the threat, and Raja felt the curse draw tight, wrapping it around the ritual. He trembled, vision blurring, as the beast inside tried to force its freedom. Still, Raja hung onto the strength the pack voices had given him.

And at the c****x of the ritual, pain boiled up within Raja, like his soul being ripped to shreds. The chant intensified with the pack voices coming together to form one epic force against the void. The epic rumble of their battle was torn from his throat with the howl.

But he wasn't alone. The pack was with him, their unity a shield against the curse.