Early Fall, 999 A.D.
In the far corner of an endless forest, at the edge of an undiscovered continent, under the bright light of the full moon, a young man looked up at the night sky, inhaling deeply. His olive-colored skin reflected the moonlight, and his wild, long, raven-black hair billowed in the slight wind, trailing behind him.
The sky was filled with thousands of stars shining down on the land, reflecting in the young man's bright green eyes. Time seemed to stand still, and with each passing second, the young man's breaths became heavier. Finally, the first cracking sound echoed.
Determined, the young man bit his lower lip, still fixated on the glorious sky. Another cracking sound followed, and his left hand twisted suddenly, bending at an unnatural angle. Soon after, more cracking sounds followed, as each of his two hundred and six bones cracked over and over again, transforming into something else.
For the initial dozen cracks, the young man remained silent, gazing at the glowing moon. His eyes turned bloodshot with a mix of rage, hatred, and determination. He endured, holding in the pain, as he had been taught since childhood.
He maintained his composure during the transformation of all his limbs until the first scream of defiance left his mouth. He did his best to endure, counting each crack. By the time he reached the 50th bone, every muscle in his body burned with pain.
It wasn't until the 127th bone that he released his first scream of agony. The pain was unbearable, lasting for almost twenty minutes as his screams of defiance turned into those of pain and, finally, into the savage roars of an angry beast.
As the transformation ended, a fully grown black wolf stood in the place of the young man. Its wild eyes glowed in shades of gold and green as it stood at the top of a cliff near a waterfall, overlooking an endless sea of trees.
Unfortunately, at that moment, a pair of boys passed by the edge of the forest, eyeing the wolf with interest. One was two heads shorter than the other. As the wolf spotted them, the young man's thoughts were no longer his own; all he saw was a meal, an easy catch.
Pouncing forward at an incredible speed, the two barely had time to react. The older, more trained one took a hurried step back in horror, witnessing the blur of the creature that had stood over 70 steps away just moments ago. He felt relief as the beast narrowly missed him, but his relief turned to horror when he heard a muffled scream from his smaller companion.
The werewolf had missed the older boy but bit into the smaller one's chest, not giving him a chance as it immediately delivered another bite, ripping out his throat. The older one didn't pause for a second, sprinting in the opposite direction, screaming for help with all his strength, but help never arrived.
As the wolf prepared to pounce on the fleeing boy, a long howl echoed from deeper inside the forest. The black wolf halted, turning towards the source of the sound, seemingly pondering for a few seconds. Eventually, it decided to resume its hunt, although its prey was no longer in sight.
At that moment, a stray deer passed by, and the hungry wolf swiftly pounced, killing it in less than a heartbeat. It began feasting on the chewy meat, its gums dripping red with blood.
The following morning marked the beginning of an endless feud, though not long would pass before the two crossed paths again. The young man remembered nothing of what occurred during the transformation, and the survivor had never seen the assailant's true face, only the shadow of a turning werewolf.
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Late Fall, 1001 A.D.
"Isaac, stop! My father will kill you!" A young blonde woman, dressed in a simple light blue tunic, chased a young man in his early twenties. The man, wearing gray linen clothes with long black hair, held a small dagger as they played outside a small wooden house, both laughing intensely.
"Oh, come on, Rebekah, live a little. Your father is out hunting, far away from here. He can't do anything," Isaac said, flashing a smile at the girl. He effortlessly tossed the dagger from one hand to the other, evading her attempts to catch him.
"My father may be away, but it doesn't mean he won't know of this. My brothers are still here, and Finn won't hesitate to tell mother. You need to be more careful!" Rebekah stopped, giving him a stern glare.
Observing her serious expression, Isaac found it cute and lifted his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, princess."
But then Rebekah pounced, knocking them both to the ground. Her face pressed against Isaac's chest, and as he tried to defend himself, a few drops of blood fell to the ground from the small dagger, cutting his hand. Isaac didn't make a sound, just looking at the girl whose face was against his chest.
"Don't call me princess!" Rebekah said aggressively, though her tomato-red face didn't make her words very convincing.
Laughing heartily, Isaac patted her head with his uninjured hand. Meanwhile, his other hand, stained with blood, had already healed. They lay there for a few moments, Rebekah enjoying Isaac's comforting hand.
Just then, another guy arrived, wearing a dark sleeveless leather shirt, his hair reaching his shoulders. He hurriedly approached, a long sword strapped to his back.
"Hurry, sister, he needs to leave!" he spoke rapidly in their direction, with a heavy Nordic accent as he spoke in English (old English), not his native tongue. Unlike Rebekah, whose accent was more similar to Isaac's, fitting with the British English taught to them by a Viking of English heritage.
"Brother?! When have you returned?!" Rebekah looked at her brother, surprised by his presence but also stressed, realizing that if her brother returned, so did her father. Standing up, she released Isaac, allowing him to stand before whispering into his ear. "Fall is coming to an end; come by after dinner. Father should be out gathering some trees for the winter." Her words made Isaac flush a little as he nodded slightly before turning around, running into the woods.
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Isaac sprinted through the woods, his bare feet moving swiftly. Unlike the brother and sister who wore sandals, he felt the wind in his hair as each step shot him forward at an incredible speed of over 45 km/h, faster than any human could run while still in their human form.
He was the fastest in the village. Werewolves in their human form were only slightly stronger than other humans; it was their stamina and recovery that set them apart. Yet, Isaac was always faster and stronger in both forms. He had no knowledge of his father, and his mother was long dead, leaving him with no answers.
Raised among the other villagers, almost all of werewolf descent, they were taught from a young age what to do in case they killed someone and triggered the curse.
Two cycles (years) ago, when Isaac was 19 cycles (years) old, his older sister's husband died in battle. Following her widowhood, as the most beautiful among the girls in the village, she was courted by many suitors. One night, returning home, Isaac found one of his friends, the chief's son, attempting to force himself on her.
Enraged, he stabbed the man with his own dagger, killing him on the spot. That night, his first full moon, marked the worst night of his life. Not only was he considered an omega, kicked out by the alpha of their tribe (the chief), but the consequences of his actions had lasting effects.
He had contemplated retaliation—trying to take the chief's spot as the leader—but he was decades less experienced in fighting. Losing could endanger his sister, and he refused to put her in danger for the sake of his pride. She was the only family he had, even if now he rarely had the chance to see her.
Only around twenty minutes later did Isaac stop, standing in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees for over fifteen km around him. Sitting down, he leaned against a large tree, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Crossing his legs, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the sounds of nature envelop him. He could feel the trees around him, full of life. A group of deer a few km away was chewing on grass, and he could sense insects in the distance, hiding among the bushes with near-perfect camouflage.
It was as if he were connected to the earth, a part of it. He had been able to do this ever since he turned, although he wasn't clear on the how. Nothing like that had been described during his childhood lessons, and no one from his tribe would speak to him since he turned. He was clueless regarding this phenomenon.
All he knew was that it felt good, as if he were embraced by the world itself, reassuring him that he wasn't alone. For almost two years, he sat like this for hours every day, and the more he did it, the stronger the connection grew.
This time, however, something was different. Only three hours into his meditation, Isaac suddenly had a bad feeling, a headache assaulting his brain as if someone had knocked on his head with the broad side of a sword. In his mind, a dark cloud formed, overshadowing the perfect picture of nature he had seen moments ago.
Standing up and looking at the sky, he noticed it turning red, nearing sunset. Initially thinking it was his imagination, he shook off the feeling that something was wrong and started running back toward the Mikaelsons. He had promised Rebekah he would meet her there in the evening.
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It was already dark when Isaac returned. Standing in front of the house, he didn't hear a sound. Assuming that everyone had either left with the father to help with winter preparations or had other things to do, Isaac simply entered their cabin, expecting to find Rebekah there.
The cabin had only three rooms, with the main hall connecting them. A large table stood at the far end of the hall, with a few chairs next to it. On the table, there was a jug of wine and a few ceramic mugs. Seeing no one around, Isaac poured himself some wine into one of the cups and sat by the table.
The residents of the house all liked him, except for Finn and Mikael. Even Esther had taken a liking to him, often inviting him for dinner when he was younger. Mikael also liked him in the past, but everything changed when his son died to a werewolf two years ago. Since then, Mikael seemed to stare at Isaac with burning hatred.
Taking a sip from the wine, Isaac felt that something was wrong. The taste reminded him of something, and although it was a good taste, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Taking a few more sips, he sat there for a few more minutes when suddenly, a strong scent started spreading in the air. He recognized it immediately. 'Blood!'
Jumping from his seat, he followed the scent outside the house into a smaller building behind the shack. Moving fast, Isaac entered the room. The moment he did, his eyes widened in horror. On the floor, lying in a half-circle, were five people—four men and one girl—all with stab wounds in their chests.
Rushing towards the girl, he held her body and caressed her hair. Focusing, he could hear no heartbeat. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and he hugged the girl tightly, quietly crying with bloodshot eyes. He didn't call for help, knowing there was nothing others could do. If he were found, he had no doubt he would be accused of murder.
After a few moments, Isaac remained in the same position. His lips were now on Rebekah's forehead, giving her one last kiss before he ran out of the small room. Unbeknownst to him, the eyes of an old, dark-skinned woman were watching him as he left. A streak moved through her eyes as a small amount of energy entered his departing back as he ran into the woods.
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As I wrote in the synopsis, this is just the result of a writing blockage regarding another story, I don't know if I will ever write more than the next chapter, well that is unless I see extremely positive reviews.
At least I slightly enjoyed writing it...
Anyway, the FRIENDS fanfic is gonna be put on hold for the time being, As for the HP and Barney, I'm not feeling so well and I'm also very busy otherwise, so I can't seem to focus, I will assume that those who read, read for quality, not quantity...
Anyway, if you like it, let me know, and I will take it into consideration when i have time to write in the future