A Yowl in the Dark

A stick-thin girl surrounded by a swirling wind that forces raindrops into her face, slapping her cheeks. She is very small, slender, and has emerald-like shining, beautiful green eyes. But their amazing beauty is hidden behind heavy glasses, dulling the color and brilliance of her eyes. Her strikingly red, soft, wavy hair ends abruptly at the shoulders, giving her a youthful face that perfectly complements her childlike figure. She sits on the muddy ground, her thin clothing clinging to her drenched flesh as the rain continues to pour down with increasing determination. Over her head, thunder roars as spars of lightning strike the atmosphere. She sees nothing but darkness. All that exists for her is darkness. She is aware that she could die. The forest will burn if just one tree catches fire due to the approaching lightning. If that occurs; she has nowhere to run to and no one to call for assistance. Beside her, her cell phone is lifeless due to the continuous downpour of water. Still, she finds it easy to maintain her composure. But she no longer cares about life, so it doesn’t matter if she sizzles away. A solitary tear escapes her eye, flowing down her cheek and merging with the torrents of water that cascade down her frame. She is surrounded by a living nightmare, with the plants swaying and the awful breeze slamming the rain into random places. A tree was leaning towards her and on the verge of separating from its trunk, almost falling on her. She is carrying so much that she hardly realises it, her tears escorting the storm’s attempts to bring her as much misery as it can. She feels unclean, her stomach churning from the mouth. She had an impulse to take a hot shower and feel the comforting steam envelop her. She is incapable of moving. It’s where she wants to end it. In the present, the troubles of life will gradually go away, and it will be so sweet and simple. She questions why he felt the need to give her the infantile appearance, conceited demeanor, and unattractive visage that causes so much hatred in the world. Why must she always be the unfortunate one? She is now blinded by the rain and unable to see her glasses slip from her nose and land in the soil, the glass dropping onto it fast. Unbelievably, the temperature drops by a second as the water begins to flow even more from the chaotic skies. She gets goose pumps on her arm. Her breath became apparent, wisps of cloud materializing just in front of her. The icy temperature deepens. With a look of confusion on her face, she looked down. Is she really willing to let this be her last stop? Is it her time to pass away from this life? A tiny bit of anxiety creeped into her mind. It dawned on her quickly that these might be her final breaths. She reaches out with a gentle hand, trying to grab the clouds that lingered before her, trying to savor each one. She feels lightheaded as the question pounds on her head. Is she really prepared to pass away? The clouds above are starting to part slightly as the thunder approaches. She sees a full moon through the gap in the clouds she gazes at it, the beauty of it piercing her soul. The perfect circle surrounded by pure white light—the only incandescence in her world right now—is a truly amazing sight for her, it represents hope--hope that she will continue. I hope everything works out. Suddenly, her shoulder is throbbing from the impact as she gasps in agony. The moon disappears as the ominous clouds rob it from her. Her knee is stuck by another object, as the object lands on her knee and she feels the same pain again. With a look of pain on her face, the girl stays where she is. She takes hold of the unusual rock and takes it up to her eyes so she can see it. Her eyes get big. She whispers, “Hail,” as another roc flies straight towards her. It’s large, roughly the size of a nickel, and it falls very quickly. It is meant to strike her head. She anticipates it coming—a magnificent ball of energy poised to deliver the final blow. She’s motionless. Finally, death will arrive to take her away. Is what she desires correct? She ought to be content. There is relief from agony and unending suffering right here. The thing robbing her of her happiness is fear. There is a split silence when a yowl breaks out in the night as the terrible ice rock cries out to reach its destination, followed by a split silence. He’s able to hear it. Its rapid breathing echoes in his ears, alerting him to its impending arrival. He approaches the thing that dares to be in his domain right now and becomes closer to his presence. Whatever the intruder is, tonight is when he is most effective, so it is a bad time for him. It’s the night of the Wolf tonight. It’s ideal that he is by himself. He performs best by himself. Wow! What a terrible storm—the rain nearly knocked him down with its relentless force. Why is it attempting to trespass in this terrible weather, he wondered! Lightning flashes over his head as the wind rips leaves from their perches on trees and tosses them violently into the air. His concentration is nearly completely disrupted by the near—constant roaring. He waves away the storm’s attempts to divert his attention with a shake of his head. As he makes his way farther into the forest, his paws crunch the grass beneath him. He is surrounded by looming trees that cast shadows over his furry body. There is danger everywhere. He doesn’t hesitate, though. He has no fear. The wind is carrying the scent to his nose, and the presence is getting stronger. He never smelled anything sweeter; it smelled like a strange combination of strawberries, bananas, an undisclosed flavor, and a hint of mint. Even after this “it” has long since passed away, he will always remember the delight and seductive scent. This smell is unlike anything he has ever smelled around a werewolf. He questions whether a human could have really wandered into their midst because of how lovely this smell is. Most people have pleasant smells, but none are quite as pleasant as this one. He senses that this smell is a connection with him in some way. Suddenly, he feels a longing, a desire to get closer to the source. He can’t resist this pull, and he feels himself slipping further and deeper into the world of l**t. His paws start to move on their own and he develops a craving for this strange smell. He doesn’t need to follow it because the scent is leading in the right direction. He starts to believe that killing this creature might not be easy. He may not even be able to kill it because he believes that doing so would cause him to lose his sanity. It is luring him already, pleading with him to approach. As he approaches his target, the scent energizes him even more, enabling him to surround himself and ensnare him until he is unable to flee. It is the spider, and he is the fly. Realizing he has no power makes him feel miserable in the pit of his stomach. What kind of trick is this cunning animal pulling? Now the smell is so strong it almost overwhelms him with its beauty. Scent is everything to werewolves, and he smells lovely things all the time. But nothing compares to this exquisite emanation, which causes his head to spin with delirious delight. He senses that he is drawing near. The fragrance abruptly becomes bittersweet, a harsh note tainting the tune. The scent becomes tainted with fear and terror, overpowering the sweet note and ruining the scent he so desperately needs. The creature is now filled with terror as a dark stench permeates the air. He is able to infer from its scent the feelings that it is starting to experience the same feelings as it does. Now, the scent is need-filled but still enticing. He is necessary. The desire seeps into his body, that smell is what he wants to smell again, but not the one it was giving off right now. The aroma will no longer taste of fear. He wants to make it happy. He had an intense desire for that unique sweetness that he was unaware he possessed. They are moving through the forest so quickly that even he is having trouble seeing his past movements. His mind is being severely corrupted by the intense longing, to the point where the scent is all he can think about. It must belong to him. A few miles away, by a narrow creek that empties into Lake Ray, he comes to a little clearing. It’s a pretty little area with pretty flowers and verdant shrubs and tall, graceful trees. This place has an overwhelming scent. This is where the creature must be. His eyes hunt for it, seeking the malevolent entity capable of creating a scent that is alluring. It is initially completely invisible. However, after slightly adjusting his eyes, he notices a figure in the dirt. From his vantage point, all that is visible is its narrow back, a small form encased in a thick layer of mud. He circles the creature suspiciously, attempting to identify its features. Because the u blends in with the dirt, it is difficult to tell apart. But as he passes directly in front of it, his heart stops. It is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen, despite not being an especially attractive one. The girl, a human, has captivating bright green eyes that captivate him, drawing him in and keeping his eyes fixed on her. Her hair falls to her shoulders in a tumbling ruby red, glossy and wet from the rain. Her petite frame is well-defined; her worn dress fits her figure thanks to the rain. When he realizes what is happening, his heart feels a sharp stab of pain and begins to beat more quickly. He started to become frightened. Is this actually taking place? Now, why? With a human like her, why? However, nature disobeys his requests, drawing him and the young woman even closer. This is not plausible. A flash of white light erupts, encircling him before sprinting towards the girl. It soaks into her skin, illuminating her with a white glow. She looks at her toes, he eyes heavy with tears, not realizing. But it does affect him. His entire body realizes that he had just done something incredibly, horribly wrong. His body is filled with shock, annoyance, and fury. This is not going to be good. Absolutely nothing! But the longer he looks at her, the less reluctant he is. He senses himself sinking into an unending well of love as it starts to take hold. There’s no turning back now. He is permanently entangled in the alluring spider’s web. The smell bursts into another taste of horror. It was starting to rain and he could tell she'd been struck. She looks up and her eyes are vacant. She seems not to even recognize that he is there as she looks past him. She lets go of her painful tears, which cascade down her body. Her leg has a small gash that is leaking dark droplets of blood. All of a sudden, he feels compelled to guard her. Just standing here, what on earth is he doing? He must go now! She lets out a tiny cry that rips into the darkness as a massive hailstone files straight towards her. Her eyes snap closed as fear takes hold of her. The fragrance is overtaken by fear, which he must get rid of in order to relive that sweetness. He leaps right away, attempting to land on her form as quickly as possible to keep her safe. As he soars to be her shield, he lets out a guttural yowl.