A HIGH SQUEAL PEELS INTO THE NIGHT, accompanied closely by a continuous series of whimpering. To humans, the night is as calm and cold as it ever can be, but to Casselba, the Werewolf Queen, she hears it all.
The unhinged screams—a symphony of pain. The eerie quietude seconds later, just before another whip of pained human voice that hits the air. A silence that seems to echo more than the shrilling itself. Undoubtedly, someone was in pain—the very serious kind.
Casselba follows the ungodly sounds to the doors of the Manor. Only a little yellow lighting marks the area as she descends the many-stepped flight and pushes out into the cool night. Slivers of a shadowed moon shine the path she takes towards the backyard of the mansion. The very wide plot that extends about ten acres before branching out to a thin line of cultured forest.
