Sergei sat atop the train as it trundled through the European countryside, lost in thought.
These quiet times weren't his favorite as they seemed to be the times that brought back memories of the Great War. Memories that he wished to leave be. Memories of bloodshed and wanton violence for no better a reason than the Russian army could since they had more men than they knew what to do with. Now he traveled to a land that had been part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. The very place that started the war. The fact that his father, him and his brother had been part of a special force meant nothing to the top Russian commanders. On the contrary it had made them even more disposable as they were sent on dangerous missions deep behind enemy lines often to eliminate field commanders or other high ranking soldiers.
Sergei sighed as he mulled over the past. It seemed to haunt him no matter how far he moved or how often. He sometimes wished that he could be like his brother Viktor when it came to forgetting about the past. He missed his mother and would love to have moved back home to the Siberian tundra but something about the quiet ate at him, digging under his skin making him itch for some escape. It was a strange feeling fighting against the beast inside you. It wanted to be free, to roam and maim as wished but he knew that he had to keep it at bay. Maybe one day he would find a place that would help soothe the monster that lived inside him.
Tree's sped past as the train began to enter a tunnel. He could hear the steam whistle blow just before it entered the darkness, the light on the front of the engine cutting through the inky blackness. The cars in front of him wobbled as they rolled over the rails. Funny being on a train again he thought. It had been one of the means that they had gotten around quickly in the early days of the war as automobiles hadn't yet taken over as the main mode of transportation. He chuckled to himself as darkness and the stone walls of the tunnel enveloped him. Lights from the cars cast odd shadows against them and sparks flew from the iron wheels as they ground against the steel of the rails, screeching the whole time as if they were some banshee hell bent on consuming the ground beneath them.
Soon the tunnel opened revealing the open sky before him and a nearly full moon. He knew it had been coming. It was something that he could feel in his blood. Part of being a werewolf he figured. Sergei laid back, stretching out on the wooden top of the car that he rode on. Crossing his legs and placing his arms behind his head he relaxed a bit while staring at the stars and moon seemingly never moving in the dark expanse above him. Up here away from the people in the box cars he felt calm. Big crowds always seemed to stress him out. Too much noise to focus on one thing. So up here he could feel the wind upon him and for a time the anger and rage inside him was quiet, satiated by the sensation of moving.
The screeching of iron on steel and the lurching of the train shook Sergei awake. He looked around, still stretched out on the top of the train car he had been on, and noticed a small train station. He could tell that it was early morning by the dew that covered everything and the faint grayness that had started to light up the eastern sky. Standing up he stretched and yawned, not even remembering falling asleep. It had been such a peaceful night that sleep had come to him quickly and for once neither did the nightmares that often came with the sleep. He walked to the edge of the train on the opposite side of the station platform and jumped down. He could hear a good many people getting off the train. The conductor shouting orders to the locomotive driver and to others. Steam releasing from underneath the cars. Walking round the back of the last car and using the last bit of darkness he made for the town beyond the station. He was now in Hungary.
X X X
Viktor was most surprised to see that automobiles had taken over so fast. They hadn't been a terribly new invention but had been something only the rich could afford. Now it seemed that farmers and other folks that had ample means could own such a device. He remembered back during the Great war he and his brother got around by marching or by trains which admittedly wasn't much faster than marching at times. Now here he sat in the back of one as it trundled down a mud ridden road and he had to admit it was way better than walking or running in his beast form. Although there was something free about running as a beast but as he got closer to more populated areas he felt that it was best to not stay in that form. People often think crazy things when confronted with something they don't understand.
The countryside sped by as he rode and it freed his mind, allowing it to wander. Unfortunately it often wandered back to the war with scenes that he would soon rather forget. It brought back tastes that he wished now that he did not know such as the taste of a man's blood upon his tongue. Or the sense of joy he got from the act of killing. That was the part that truly terrified him the most. His thoughts quickly wandered to his mother and brother. He hoped that his mother was alright and hadn't been harmed. If this White bear had hurt her in any way then he would personally show him the skills that he had learned during the great war.
Viktor shook that thought from his mind. He was mostly certain that his mother was fine. If this White Bear had wanted to kill his mother then he would have done so back at their home. Instead he had left a note and a reason to take heed to the words written on that note. This White Bear, whoever he was, wanted them to participate In his tournament for some reason. He suspected it had been someone that he may have met back in the war. Someone he had slighted somehow but of that he wasn't entirely sure. It could be that he was just a bored rich man that had nothing better to do than kidnap middle aged women to force their werebeast sons into fighting for amusement. Either way Viktor intended to find out.
The truck hit a deep rut in the road hard, bouncing him up a bit and out of his thoughts for a moment. He rubbed his head where it had bit the cab of the truck as an old woman swatted and fussed at her husband who was driving. The husband merely laughed and Viktor suspected that the woman may have fallen asleep and the man had hit the rut on purpose to wake her up. It was one of those childish things that his brother Sergei would have reveled in doing to him. Viktor smiled as his thoughts turned to his brother. He hadn't seen much of him since the great war had ended. They had returned home without their father, something that their mother hadn't taken very well. Sergei had been quiet and withdrawn most of the time as if his mind or soul had been left behind on the battlefield. They spent the winter together quietly save a few arguments and screams in the night from the pair of them, albeit most came from Sergei. Not long after spring had begun Sergei told his mother and brother one evening at dinner that he would be leaving the next morning. Said that he couldn't stand all of the quiet that woods provided any longer. Viktor tried to argue against it while their mother cried to herself. True to his word Sergei was gone the next morning leaving the two of them behind. Viktor had thought that he had detected his scent near the house a few times but nothing had come of it.
Now seven years later he wondered how his brother was holding up or if he even knew that their mother had been kidnapped by some crazy rich man. Maybe he did and maybe he didn't. It may be for the best that he didn't know. Having him in the tournament would be a great help but the two of them together had a bait of getting into trouble as Sergei was always quick to fight. The truck lurched again as they hit another divot in the road and the old man howled with laughter as the old woman swatted at him. This time though Viktor had been holding on more tightly.