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The majestic red beast was wounded. He could feel the life bleeding out of him, he was so exhausted. He needed rest, fear was pushing him on. Those who pursued him, would catch up with him and destroy him, as they had done to his father. 

 

So afraid. Fear encompassed him. How could this be real? He looked down at his blood-covered paws. What had he done, in the aftermath, of what was done to him?   

 

Despite this fear, he could go no further. Hiding in the thicket, he began to whimper at his fate. Why had this happened? Why did they do that, to his mother? THAT! His stomach twisted at the remembrance of her screams. He had never heard, a sound like it.  

 

He knew what they were doing, he had turned away. He had to. What they did was such an abomination. He had hidden, sobbing and willing it, to be a nightmare. Then, the real nightmare began, as the rage made his flesh burn.  His own body betraying him, as he turned into, what  they were. 

 

As his flesh and bones twisted, snapped and grew, all he felt was searing agony. Then? Nothing, but hunger; a burning, painful appetite that had totally blinded him to any rational thought. But now? Now, thought came to him. Many thoughts. Visions of blood and screaming, came.

 

The women – Oh my God, what had, he done? 

 

A sound broke his thoughts, startling him into silence. He held his breath as he heard the sound of paws. Large, heavy paws. Their sound? Searching. For him? He couldn't know.  He cowered, attempting to make his own form as small and invisible, as possible. 

 

At first, he was too afraid to even look through the branches of the thicket, but then, the paws stopped. Had it, whatever it was, found him? He opened his eyes and saw an animal; standing in the clearing ahead, staring directly at him. But unlike those pursuing him, this was a wolf, an actual wolf. Much bigger than, the terrestrial wolves he knew in the area. Light grey; it looked very old. 

 

Its large black eyes locked onto his and, as it stared at him he felt his fear, totally evaporate. The wolf pushed through the thicket and as he cowered, the wolf rubbed its muzzle, along his flank repetitively. He felt comforted by the wolf's actions and closed his eyes. 

 

The strokes seemed to change and he felt hands, brushing his coat of red fur. The action was so comforting, he felt no alarm, even when he felt himself being lifted, onto a human lap. The soft brushing of his fur continued, as a beautiful powerful ethereal voice now spoke.  

 

“I am, so sorry they did this to you, child.” 

 

In his mind, the beast thought. 'They turned me into a monster'.  

 

The voice spoke again. “I know, child. I came as fast as I could, but I fear I was too late. This injustice is severe and unfortunately, permanent. I cannot undo what they did. I cannot undo what you did, either…” There was no condemnation in the voice, simply sorrow, as it continued.  “...But I can, grant you safe passage into the next world and I can, assure you of justice. For I prophesy, a child born out of this injustice, will bring about the destruction of the one who ordered your mother and father's execution.” 

 

Now, the beast felt a man’s face against his muzzle and heard him whisper. “Your sacrifice, will be avenged. Your bite has already started a chain reaction that will create a love, that will change, ALL.” 

 

The beast began to weep, the man whispered. “You’re dying. You know this?” 

The beast nodded his head, just the once, as he was already weakened to the point that movement was impossible. He felt a human chin on his head and heard a whisper. “I can give you a gift. Do you want to meet your maker, as you were?” 

 

He hadn't even thought of that. How could he meet the Lord, as a creature of destruction?  YES. Yes. There was no way he wished to spend eternity in this form. 

 

The beast heard the man exhale. “Very well.” He then felt a fuzzy, bubbling sensation. He opened his eyes. His arm was outstretched. Arms. He had arms. He opened his hand then closed it again. Hands. Relief. He turned to where the man had been and there where he had been, sat the huge light grey wolf. It stared at him. He whispered, at it. “Thank you.” Then the beast, now the 15-year-old boy he had originally been, closed his eyes, for the final time. 

 

And so, the body of a boy that was never missed, was found. Authorities put his demise down to a hunting accident , no-one even thought to connect it, to the spate of animal attacks in the nearby village of Gevaudan.   

 

 

Part one: 

The S & M Ripper. 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE: 

 

Dr Lucy Gevaudan, laying in her bed, opened her eyes. She had shut the blinds, but knew it was that time again. Outside, the moon was full. She stared at the darkness above then closed her eyes. Every single month, for as long as she could remember; at the very least it had been thirty years, she had gone through this ritual. Fighting it was futile, yet she always tried...