Post by rosenrot on Jan 25, 2017 12:04:27 GMT
Blog about what Arne was up to in Germany. It started growing far beyond what I expected to write... Enjoy part 1
For hours, I’ve been riding this smooth long road, under the veil of an early winters night, only to watch the white shadows of the moonlight turning into a bright new day, and unfold this sight before me: Gigantic stalagmites raising mightily from pines and oaks. Hundreds of them, every single one a colossus - piercing the clouds above. A thin mist covers its secrets... and I can’t believe I am so close. Is there that I am going. Geliebt Heimat...
If I had any doubts in my heart, they now have faded. A warrior learns early to live a life of sacrifices. He can't stay above the wall... He must hammer it down to wreckage! 'Although this case would be worthy of building one' I think to myself, as I eat the last miles of the distance keeping me and the Central European Mountains apart.
Finally, I make a turn, then another. And the wheels I ride crush a thin layer of ice into droplets of water. I see farms, fields, and the ordinary folk that here dwell - speakers of the same dialect their ancestors spoke, workers of the land and in the eyes of the devouring beast that rules every single human life, nothing but a shy numeral. Perhaps labour force and no more - still, from my perspective they have so much. A life ten times worthy living than the one from another worm dragging towards a meaningless end.
I am simply a glimpse on their history as I pass through it by a second, driving into a forest as old as the voices whispering its deepest secrets from behind branches, ice and roots.
Mittenwald.
I am just where Germany and Austria meet. Behind the next mountain is Innsbruck, where when I was only a boy, I faced the most harrowing challenges that were so cruel, that are beyond what is thinkable or what is worthy speaking. That said, I remember that no matters what waits for me here... I aint easy to kill. And to achieve that, an ocean of blood will be spilled... Only a drop, mine.
I decrease the speed which I travel, soon slow enough to be pushing the BMW R75 that brought me this far. The damn thing is clumsy... but I quickly find a place for it to rest, near the narrow pathway that is barely seen under the smooth snow that have been falling the last few days. It’s alright. No one know this place. Nor at least, no one who shouldn’t know it.
Certain that no unwanted eyes are peeking, I shapeshift - large paws are soon printing the freezing shadows of a thousand trees all around. I howl my presence towards the skies just to hear it echoing back to me, over, and over again...
So, it begins. And I run mountain up, climbing towards a battle to death...
After hours of marching uphill, I come to realize something aint right... Even for winter it is deadly quiet. Not a sound, from a bird nor a single living being. The snow that is trampled beneath my paws is a numb frost turning into a lifeless mess. All I taste is death in the air... Like a musk taking the atmosphere that once was overflowing of power. The worst? I'd never get this far without an intervention. Fimbul wolves should have their preys digging for my throat, by now... Giving me the chance of a worthy death instead of the silently headshot offered to intruders. I've lived here for twelve years. And neither I, or the Fenrirs who shared this land for a thousand years before me, would ever have had a second thought about the health of those mountains.... I start to realize, my concerns were truthful, and what I might find ahead is a fate far worse than death.
I don’t care if the howl I sent now announces my presence, like a beacon, to whatever awaits.... I pick up the pace... sending a warm cloud from my muzzle at every breath. A murdering urge heating my veins with a fire, that is as pleasant as when she bends naked before me. And fills me with a thirst for the enemy's flesh...
- Music
After all those hours, which felt like days… Night fell and the darkness it brought has already fade, when I finally stood before that land I call home - Sonnenschein. A millenary sept, on the heart of the European most powerful warrior caern, the Jahrtausendland. But I do not see the sun that makes its name... All I see is a mist, which no light or darkness can pierce.
Carefully at every step, I walk that mist… So silently my own heart beat seems loud enough to disclose my presence to whatever done this. And I just can’t believe it. I seek in my mind reasons that mask the truth, that is hidden by this inert veil but is still so clear: So, I turn my head towards Percht – A might idol standing tall, representing the wise yet ruthless totem of Sonnenschein – to find only ashes. Oma’s Alm, the huts which we built from the ground, the sound of the children laughing… Everything that it was, is no more.
Sonnenschein has fallen.
But… Where is everyone?
There’s no sign of battle. Yes, it reeks of death here, but I see no corpses… No struggle. It’s just as if nothing ever existed. And, it makes sense… Who’d dare coming up those hills and meet the elite, among an elite breed of warriors, on the bowels of their very home? It comes clear that my enemy Is clever enough not to make a suicidal move as a frontal battle here. It has nevertheless found another way to achieve its goal, and it makes this enemy particularly dangerous.
Yet, with no answers at my grasp, all I can do is to see it, to believe it. So, I approach a clearing among this stiff mist. Through it, faint lights are ghostly dancing. There’s a crater into this void of emptiness which glows of life. And I step into what is only a fragment of what my home once was…
It’s like an oasis of vitality inside a helm of death.
The grass is green, stones hibernate peacefully, crowned by Edelweiss. Above me the sun shines so warm it brightens the dust floating in the air, revealing shy streaks of water sprouting from the ground. They run, virgin and untouched, down a mound and I greet them respectfully. Drinking from the may waters as if nursing from the breasts of the mother herself. Vigorously the holy water takes my veins, filling me with a force that can only be described as spiritual…
Die Isar Quelle, the spring that grows into a massive river, and is like the womb of those lands, generating life. If it dies, we all do - All is lost. But the river still lives. The caern’s heart is untouched. The sept lives.
And if it lives, there is still hope – There will always be, if one Fenrir can still fight in Sonnenschein.
-
I now walk over my boots to enter this solitary building, an ugly concrete dome that simply does not fit. It is far enough from the village where we once lived, which can be an advantage giving the circumstances. Here, in this clammy, dark shed, one man used to perform his work. He didn’t like being bothered when he isolated himself up here ... Sometimes locking up for days under the pretext of working on some real miserable sculptures. He is the only one that would have answers, and the last man that I want to see on this outlandish lifetime.
Just in case, I grasp my Combat Shotgun between my fingers, closing it to my chest as I move to push those rusty metal doors that separate the real world from this gloomy den… And of course, they shout as a whore paid to climax! This junk…. Loud…. Shit.
So, I live to see Fleischer’s manufactory. What a Junkyard.
I find before me something that looks like… If a cenotaph and a museum breed. Is this what they call art nowadays? Dozens of figures, pale like the ass cheeks of an albino, frozen still in silently prayer. Some have wings as of an angel, some are only a bust, and there are the ones who never grew beyond layers of plaster. They all share the same face.
Every single one of those sculptures look like the same woman - mature… Jewish nose, eyes that are empty. What an old creep. I close the gates behind me, and take a first step in. Making eye contact to the first soulless Jew ahead… I admit, it brought up the hair on my neck.
-
It’s safe to say that I clinically investigated the entire building, again finding nothing useful. Just artistic materials - alabaster, clay, granite ... carving tools, a little hammer. But, I keep going. I’d go through it, repeatedly until I get something… I can’t just keep my hands empty. There must be something here… Or, why would this place be him so sacred? Just so he can jerk off to his imaginary widows? No.
My shadow is at my heels as I wander without a sound, moving towards one last door I still didn’t look. The door knob spins gently under my grip, revealing a narrow hall which only light comes from the cracks of the two doors at its end. I follow carefully, carrying my weapon very close...
One gentle push is enough to spread one of the two doors facing each other. The one at my left. And I find… A bathroom.
The old tile dismantles from the walls, turning into bran that spreads over the mass of stains in the floor. The sink and the toilet are covered under a greenish moss. And there's a tub, too. But I cannot see what's inside, for a decaying curtain is still covering it.
Slowly, I get closer, reaching out to grab that hanging piece of cloth… With one quick movement, I reap it out of my way.
So is here you hide your skeletons...
- Music
The whole thing – the tub - is overflowing with old pictures. Or maybe, they just look old because someone has tried to burn them. But it is like the fire went out before he accomplished it. I go through them... Scattering ashes and dust. A faint scent of burn itches my nose in the inside. My eyes taking on all the strange faces I see, and as I dig through those photographs, little burning flakes float from the mess I make, and then around my head. My stomach twists with sudden rage, as I realize this: Those are all photos of children.
You sick shit.
Rage awakens me like a shock wave, climbing through my veins... Making my jaw clench and my vision gets blurred. It just takes me... And I no longer know what I seek, or what am I supposed to do -with shaking hands, but with an unshaking purpose, I go through those photos one by one.
I mess the chaotic pile around, searching, reaping. Tearing apart – simply hating everything; and flames are revealed from the bottom of the bathtub to flay my fingers. Soon the whole thing is on fire. So long, this has been quiet… Almost numb. This unshakable, vivid hate. I used to feel it all the time, no matter if awake or asleep, and now I see it still lives inside me, voracious as the fire blazing like hell itself, just where I my heart used to be.
No!
I shout, bordering despair! All those precious pictures resuming to erode into a pile of ashes. With blind eyes, and a sulfuric taste of shit in my tongue, anger is driving me to the edge of hopelessness. I must find whatever is it I seek! Before all is gone, and lost forever into the flaying fire.
So, into the very bottom of this hole I made into all boiling flesh… I find it. With the throat frothing but still so dry, and the heart burning…Twisting inside my chest at every bitter beat. I reach out, as if to the edge of a cliff from which I am hanging… To take this one, last photography that is so dear to me…. More than anything ever was.
Through eyes shaking so wet, I see what I hold in my skinless and bloody fingers… My sister and me. We were so young, this day… I still remember it! We were fishing on the Chiemsee. It was before Father left. He holds us both on the photograph, but I can’t see his face. It does not interest me, though… All I care is for the little blond girl holding proudly a thread with a little fish on its end. She was so happy, back them… Unaware of any darkness…
I stare at little Inka for as long as I can before the photography burns itself, turning into cinders that disappear at my palm… My heart just seems to go as well, fading from inside my chest with any joy I’ve ever felt. The fire goes off, with its light. Leaving me into a darkness so deep it seems to swallow my whole being….
I can hear myself sobbing…
Nothing else exists…
Darkness is all that is left…
I open my eyes. And she is staring at me. As if from the bottom of a pit, in the hole I dug among the ashes. Empty eyes of stone, crocked nose... That woman, sculpted from plaster. She reaches up with a hundred arms, grabbing me and then dragging me to the deep.
-
I don’t want it….
I could be either asleep or awake. I wouldn’t know… Nothing seems clear…
Definitely, I am naked. Hands are touching my body, hundreds of them… Running invasively through my neck, chest, lips, and groin. They grab at my tights and then my ass, they nip at my nipples till it hurts. They hold my dick and start stroking at it. I don’t want it, but I can’t say it because they cover my mouth. It’s overwhelming, and forces me into submission.
Stop. Get the fuck away from me…!
I start to struggle, trashing among the hundred hands that are quick at raping me. I bite them, elbow, kick…. But their grip around my body tightens so hard it mashes my lungs. Their touch becomes violent, nails are flaying my skin off everywhere. Fingers are entering my eyes and mouth, digging between my butt cheeks… But I can’t have that... Never again!
I fight so hard! On the top of my strength!! Like a fucking Wolverine, breaking bones and tendons. Biting off the fingers that are hungry for the innocence that was once taken from me…! I can feel my power growing…. Making my muscles throb with it….
I am a Fenris, and I refuse to submit! That conviction becomes my ultimate mindset, causing all power to grow to its edge and then explode: My war shape grows from inside out, me! And finally frees me of the luscious embrace!
-
Suddenly I am standing above a frozen yard which horizon, at all sides, does not exist. Its deadly silently but my breath, that comes in and out so rushed, is loud…
Then, I hear them coming.
First, it seems miles away. And at every passing second, they get closer, and closer…
I look around myself, knowing they are everywhere. At north, south, east and west. An army, approaching. They march towards me, alone.
‘Come and bite me, you trash!’
I shout, like a madman. Turning around my heels, and telling all of them. Letting them know that a violent end is now sealed as their fate…
‘Come to your death! I will feast on your bowels, scum!’
They are now a heartbeat away… Then, here.
Fleischer's sculptures summon all around me, making a perfect circle that closes towards my direction. Floating heads, with wings where their ears should be, and sharing the same face of that Jewess, follow, crowning the skies like vultures -they want my flesh. There are also arms and feet, deprived from bodies and creeping on the icy floor only to feed from my blood. There are legs without upper bodies, and upper bodies with no legs or head, dragging their groin on the dry ice by pulling with their hands. I laugh at them!
‘Filthy freaks, it is time to die!!’’
The army of freaks leap over me! All at once, from every side. And without mercy I terminate them all like a war machine. Restlessly, furiously, I dismantle their bodies. Dismembering them beasts one by one. I rip their heads off with my preys, and break their bodies with my claws. They are done, as soon as they come! Its endless, but so is my strength.
Fools! Can’t they see, I can do this forever?! This is what I was born for! To war, and destruction! All my life, my enemies tried and failed to drag me down… I will always stand to watch their corpses dropping in piles at my feet!
….
‘’Now!’’ A woman screams out.
I am verging on exhaustion… Two persons, one at each side of me, are holding my arms with all their power… I can tell that much. But I wouldn’t give in… Not yet. I pull both my arms with such strength they slip off their grip, turning to one of them and throwing an elbow to her face! She gasps out her blood.
‘’Damn Fenrirs!’’ Is what the other person says as she runs at my direction. I bend down… Taking her body as it bumps against mine, and throwing her violently against a wall. Shit breaks everywhere on this… Room? I don’t know where I am.
‘’What is wrong with you two?! Just hold him…!’’ A third woman screams out again, when the first person gets her shit together and jumps at me. I snarl at her! And then I see my human hand… No claws or fur, taking a hold of her bloodied face. I mercilessly smash it to a chair that was nearby! Breaking it down along with her teeth.
It’s when something stings sharply in the skin of my shoulder blade…. Liquid spreading underneath my muscles and immediately, numbing my wittiness. I turn to see the bitch who did this… Those empty eyes… That crocked nose… Again!! She still holds a syringe against my flesh and pushes a thumb on its end… Forcing all its content inside my body. I can feel my power slipping away…
I reach over… Holding her neck, but I barely can have a grip from the white robe she wears… My legs fail under me and I go down, one knee on the ground…
I hardly can breathe as I fight to stay awake… But I wouldn’t give in. Never. How would I fight, though, if I barely can hold my eyes open...? Gentle hands, they hold my cheeks. And they make me look up to a voice that speaks to me...
‘’Easy now. Easy… We will not hurt you.’’
The Jewess says. Her empty eyes looking deep into mine. I shut them… Why she wouldn’t leave me be?
‘’Look at me!’’
The hands at my cheek are as demanding as her words, so I open my eyes again. To my surprise the Jewess is gone. I see a pretty girl. She has dark hair, and eyes. The hair is tied up in a messy bum. She has a mole above her lips. That doctor device, that checks your heart beat and shit… Hangs from her neck.
‘’You were dreaming. Whatever was trying to hurt you, it’s not here. Was all a dream.’’
She speaks easy and slow as if talking to a child… Leisurely, I am set free from the trap my own mind created. But… What the fuck?!
I try to say something. I fail… The maximum I could do was to make my lips shake a little.
‘’I am Doctor Renée Bertrand. Kin for the Black Furies. You are in the sept of the Golden Mare. We are here to take care of you…’’
I am trying to settle the mess in my head. Golden Mare… Oh great. Furies sept! They hate us all, and they should. But how did I get here? Am I… In France? Belgium? Forget it… It’s useless to think, now. One more time, I open my eyes, and I can see a shadow emerging from behind the nice girl-doctor… It is a massive looking woman. Is that even a woman…? Clearly, she/he is a lesbian, that trucker kind that acts as if her balls are even bigger than mine. Her hair is shaved on the side of her head, the rest is short and black. Thrown to the other side. She has shitty tribal tattoos on her flabby arms, her eyes are green and flaming with feminist anger. She’s bleeding from her mouth.
Doctor Renée yelps and moves away just in time for the angry lesbian to set her boot to my face! I inevitably am thrown to the ground.
‘Margot!!’ Renée exclaims!
‘Now we are even, Schleu.’’ Says the massive lesbian, pleased to see me down… Well, perhaps the face stomp was good, for the blood to rush in. It certainly woke me up! After kissing the cold floor, I couldn’t help but to laugh… Turning my eyeballs to, ‘Margot’.
‘I hope you… Get raped...’’ I say with a struggle, gathering menace to connect words into the worse sentence I can possibly put together. ‘…By a pack of Arabs.’’
Renée exhales helplessly, and Margot face becomes so red I almost mistook her for a rabid pig. She growls, picking a scalpel that was thrown with a bunch of other tools, over a table. I am guessing I made one hell of a mess, here… She starts stomping towards me. Renée moves to stop her, and a third girl – the other one I just beat up – does it too.
‘Easy now, Margot! You will not let this Get… - Sting! – get the best from you, right?’’
This third girl… The one who just call me ‘A Get’. Well. She’s black. And probably a liberal.
‘Get is what… Your whore of a mother… Spit out her rancid pussy.’’
Offending everyone is so fun! Why I don’t do this anymore? The black girl simply looked at me unamused... As I, like a deer making his first steps, was trying to get back up on my knees…
It was Renée who directed me a stare full of rage… She took the scalpel from Margot’s hand. And as I was busy trying to at least, sit up… She grabbed my hair and pulled it backwards until It was hard to breath. Her dark eyes burning, fixed on mine. I saw her iris shrinking…
She slashed across my face! Then she pushed the tip of the tiny blade against my throat… I choked a little with the blood I was swallowing from the angry lesbian’s boot…
‘Listen to me, you misogynist prick….’ She said deadly serious, but the way I faced her was not. ‘We have no obligations towards you. We did what a Gaian should, by helping you. But we do not care if you live or die!’’
Then she got my attention… Dropping the tiny blade to reach for something else. She lifted it on her hand, almost rubbing it to my face.
It’s Aime. She has on her hand the picture I carry on my wallet.
‘Did you touch my stuff…?!’ I asked with a muffled voice because the awkward position of my neck. She gave another harsh pull on my hair to shut me up.
‘Silence!! Now… I am guessing you have a daughter. I want you to think of her… Before you decide your next words. Because if I don’t like them... I will cut you, and let you bleed to your death. DO-YOU-UNDERSTAND?!’’
As fun as it is to piss Furies off, I know how serious they are when it’s about death threats. So, if I wanted to go back to Mairenn and Aime, and if I planned to discover what the hell happened in Sonnenschein, this was the time to stop pushing it…
‘I understand.’
‘Good boy.’ Renée says, even if she is still not happy… She let me go… Stands up… And as casually as she’d drink that second glass of wine at the end of her shift, she throws her knee right on my mouth! This time I got knocked out for good.
‘Get yourself together. When you’re ready, we will speak.’’ I kind of hear it… Through screeching ears. My vision blackened out, as I roll half-awaken on the cold and messy floor… The three Furies leaving the room, and me, alone.
I find besides me, also lying on the dirty, Aime’s sweet smile. And for a little while I am happy to just stare at it.
…
Eventually the effects of whatever those girls shove into my veins wore off. I could get back to my feet, finding out, I would be naked if not for my underwear. But soon I spot my clothes lying around in a corner… They probably were folded nicely before hell broke down inside that room. It is a simple infirmary, all is mess up from the fight I put up when raving on those dreams… A chair and a table are broken, one door of a small closet where a bunch of medicine were kept, is hanging from the hinges. Glass is in shatters and scattered on the floor as is a bunch of pills, tools, flasks... Hell. Even I was.
I dressed up. Laced my boots... Checked my wallet. Carefully placing Aime’s picture back where it belongs. But something else was missing from my pockets… Something that for me, has a lot of value. ‘Are those bitches stealing from me…?’ I think to myself, stomping out that room!
But as soon as I was out, I had to halt. Cause here, it didn’t look like anything I was expecting to see... I am now on what seems to be some sort of… School? It’s a long corridor, and its walls are filled with children drawings. Among them smiling faces, mommy, daddy, cartoon superheroes… And all sorts of random shit kids do. But I can spot what looks like Garou in Crinos, as well… On more dark drawings, like when you wonder if Satan has taken your child… I see monsters as odd as a Bane or a Fomori would be.
Some of those papers are branded with the hand print of the children. I see also, the prints of tiny Crinos paws as well.
What is this place? I ask myself… Searching on my still broken mind, for whatever I’ve ever heard about The Golden Mare. I can tell, at least, I must be in France. Because some of the posters on the walls are in French.
My trail of painful thoughts is interrupted, though. By a youthful giggling coming from my right.
At one edge of this corridor, is a tiny black Crinos. It waggles its tail at me, and teasingly… Holds on its jaw, just what I was looking for! A little wolf toy, made of wood. It was the first toy I ever gave Aime! I carved that the day she was born, when Henrik and I waited, during Anna’s labour that caused her death. I brought it so I’d feel Aime a little closer to me…! It would make me fight the hardest I possibly can. And now, that brat holds it on its mucky mutt mouth!
‘This is mine!’ I shout at the Metis cub, and still giggling, it runs away from me.
‘Hey!’
Like an idiot, I follow.
-
I pursuit the tiny Crinos through a bunch of corridors… Hell, the little bastard is quick! It jumped down a whole stairway and I was forced to go through it step by step with my combat boots. There was a moment I got so close… Leaping on my chest and gripping a few of its tail’s hair, but the little Metis is fast to make an agile turn in the last moment, leaving me with nothing but a few threads of its fur within my grasp. I jumped back up on my feet, quickly but not enough to keep up with that little prick…
‘I will get you!’ I say out loud, making the same turn the bastard just did…
And I find it. Still wagging its tail. Still teasingly holding Aime’s toy on its jaws… And now sitting on a nun’s lap.
-
‘I see you meet the young Abel.’’
Says the nun on a calm, almost soothing voice, to me.
She wears that penguin outfit, and everything. A heavy wooden rosary is hanging from her dark rob, with a big cross at its end. She looks pretty old, enough to have seen some shit. She is scratching the little Abel between its ears. He enjoys, but probably making a fool of me rather than the fondness. I meet the nun’s grey eyes with mine… Making a step in her side of the room.
‘That is mine.’ I say to the nun, indicating the Toy. She nods and talks to Abel on French.
Abel leaps out her lap and hops in my direction. His overall happiness, being an annoyance to me. Aint you a metis? Be fucking sad! He stops at my feet, holding the toy up in his jaw… I am quick to retrieve it, checking for biting marks and overall damage. But besides the dribble that I wipe off on my shirt, it’s not hurt.
Abel goes back to the nun, who now stands and bows at me respectfully. I pocket Aime’s toy and face her with suspicion… How wouldn’t I be suspicious? It’s a nun! And a Metis. This makes no fucking sense!
‘I am Inès Voigt, also known as Mother Voigt. Sees-only-black-and-white, Divine-Judgement, Veil-of-the-death. Athro, Philodox of the Children of Gaia. Born of a woman. I am the Alpha for the Golden Mare, and former den mother to all girls and boys that we shelter here. Would you give me the privilege of your introduction?’
‘Sturmfront. Arne Netzer. Modi, Elev, Mensch. Son of Fenris.‘
She nods.
‘You come from the Storm Hills, I’ve heard? ‘
It is common that outsiders call our Caern it. I always liked It better than Jahrtausendland, to be fair. Even though it sounds very… Shadow Lord. But Fenrirs are also children of the storm, we’ve always praise all powerful wild forces. Just as the Northman magnify Mjolnir’s thunder. So, why not? It was my time to give the nun a nod. Mother Voigt than indicated another room near to us… From where I smelled firewood, meat and bread.
I really wanted all those things…!
‘I was expecting you to get awake. Clean yourself, and let us dine. There is a lot we must talk about.’
So, playing along with whatever the hell is happening here, until it’s time to crush someone’s skull again, I find myself a bathroom…
-
I clean out all dried blood, heal my wounds, take a piss… And then follow towards the dining room. My stomach begging for some good food, I can’t even remember the last time I ate! Steps getting faster as the delicious scents filling the air grow stronger, and I don’t need any directions to find my way to the food.
I make my entrance on the dining room, being received by silence and side looks. Good, or I’d be doing things really wrong. Angry lesbian is there, not-so-nice Doctor is as well. Liberal black girl has Abel, the Metis cub, on her lap… At last, Mother Voigt sits on the very end of a long table that’d easily hold a feast. She interrupts her praying briefly to smile at me and suggest this Fenrir a seat.
I find my place just by Angry Lesbian, who certainly doesn’t seem very happy about it. Like I care. All I have eyes for, right now, is the food. Jaa... There’s loads of it!! A big fancy tray holds at least, three ducks, all moisty from its fat. They are served over a mountain of mushrooms and fried potato slices. I can smell spices and herbs, but I can’t tell which exactly. All around us are mashed eggs, French green beans, smelly cheese, fresh bread, sausages…. Plenty of wine. All there at my disposal.
Hell, I didn’t know I am this hungry!
The large dining table seems too empty with only us six – Lesbians, nun, metis bastard and badass viking warrior - sitting at one lone end. There’s few electric lights. Mostly, candles illuminate, besides of course… The large fireplace displaced in the very middle of this respectable room, filling us all with warmth. I usually enjoy the company of a good fireplace… I have dear memories of ours. Sometimes Aime climbs in my lap, when I read at night. And we both fall asleep by the cosy fire... And Mairenn, we said our farewells … Quite savagely… There, too. It’s not because of the dreams still fresh on my head, that I avoid looking at those flames... I prefer to gaze over the tall window above us, showing through blurred glass how cold is the dark night outside. Nor, the oil paintings decorating those shed walls, worn out by time and watchers for this strange sept.
I turn my eyes to those spying at me, and then moving away as I look. Mother Voigt is still praying… Black-Liberal slaps Abel paw as he reaches for a piece of bread… Angry Lesbian is angry. And I, discover that I have at least five forks, five knifes and a whole bunch of spoons… I am an uncouth heathen, anyway…
Sorry Mother Voigt. I have over a 100 Kilos of muscle to feed.
Without any decency, I attack the food! And in a matter of seconds, my plate is overflowing with everything I could possibly fit within it. Instead of the glass, I fill a beer krug with half a jar of wine…
Not-so-nice Doctor snaps at me.
‘What the hell are you are doing?!’
‘Did you just say hell in the presence of a nun?’ Is the only answer she needs, for I am too busy sucking the skin out a duck’s leg.
Angry lesbian than reaches her bricklayer fingers, thinking she/he will take my plate. I am quick, though… To sink one of my five knifes in the wood, inches from her hand. Holding it down steadily – and most importantly, very clearly sending a message.
We glare at each other. Still chewing my food, I dare her to take action against me. She/he offers an equally challenging stare, and tension is quick into slaying any previous mood.
We don’t even blink.
Abel yelps softly and his ears shrivel… Liberal black puts her arms around the Metis, and then moves very slowly to speak to us… Obviously, the only two Ahroun in the room. On those delicate cases… When we are just about to jump on each other throats, it’s wise to remove our attention from one another… Is what she does.
‘We always wait until Mother Voigt has said her prayers.’ Black Liberal says. At this moment, the mouthy kinfolk knows better to keep her hole shut… ‘You disrespect us at our table.’
‘I was just finished.’ Mother Voigt concludes. She makes the sign of the cross... And turns to us, full moon, in an authoritarian way. ‘Nevertheless, this dinner is a time for peace and celebration. I will not tolerate actions, or even words of violence, at this sacred moment.’’
Angry lesbian deflects from her challenge and sinks on her seat…
‘Forgive me, Alpha.’
I take another hungry bite from my duck leg… Drink it down with my wine… And just than I say.
‘I wasn’t intending to be disrespectful.’
The nun, ironically, seems sceptical about my answer. But we all needed to move past that...
‘I will accept your words, on the condition that we have a civilized dinner.’ She finally allows herself to look at me disapprovingly… ‘Which includes improving your manners at the table, Fenris ... When we accomplish that, we may finally proceed into talking about, what you are doing here.’
Deciding between sucking the last remains of flesh from a duck bone, and taking a bite from a chunk of bread, I halt… Considering, and then accepting her terms. I put all food back into the plate, using a handkerchief displaced by it (which all others but the Metis perhaps, have settled over their laps) to clean the grease from my hands and cheeks…. Mother Voigt seems happy with my gesture.
‘We will later be back into how repairing the damage caused to my table…’ She adds not so discreetly… Exhaling, now in an ease humor, and speaking to everyone. ‘’Before we feast, I’d like to hear all your introductions. Our dear guest, would you be so kind and start it?’
I am the picture of kindness, maam.
‘’Sturmfront, Arne Netzer. Elev….’’ Mother Voigt frowns at me. ‘’…Adren. Ahroun. Human born. Son of Fenris. I am the alpha for the Iron Bite, a pack under Shark.’’
She smiles, satisfied. And then looks to Angry Lesbian.
‘’Margot Dubois. Deeded as Wyrm-Impairer and Pegasus Revenge. Fostern, born from a woman under the full moon and graced by Pegasus. I am the Wyrmfoe to The Golden Mare and the Beta of Boar pack.’’
Interesting…
Mother Voigt suggests that Liberal Black goes next.
‘’Zara Gautier. Deeded by my actions, as Wretched by Sin. Cub…’’ She runs a hands down Abel’s ears, and I notice… She is missing there a thumb. There’s a hint of shame on her voice… Obviously, can’t be easy saying all that to the clearly Nazi sympathizer, judging, big evil Fenris. If only she knew…. ‘This is my son, Abel.’
I play along the impression I cause, keeping my expression emotionless to the Charach words. Abel barks happily, and I’m guessing… Completely unaware of his mother’s burden. As Mother Voigt turns to Not-so-Nice doctor… I mean, Renée, she is quick to say dryly, without making eye contact to either of us:
‘’We have met earlier.’’
‘Renée Vertrant…’ I add only to spare us from one more lecture. Although my German accent doesn’t help me much. ’… Kin for the Black Furies.’
‘Bertrand.’ She corrects me, pretending not to be holding back a smile.
Finally, we are all allowed to eat without drama.
-
‘’We learnt from informants of your howling. At 10 am on 30 of December, last Friday, in the Border between Bavaria and Tirol. We guessed, you were a member of the Sunshine Sept that has been away and was… Unaware of its condition. So, I asked Margot to take two wolves, and check on you...’’
I listen carefully to Mother Voigt. Nodding in understanding, as she nibbles at her food in almost a rehearsed manner. Margot, which I can’t believe... HAS ONLY VEGETABLES at her plate (I mean first she is huge. Second, lesbian and Vegan?! This is just too much for me), continues her Alpha’s thoughts:
‘’We found you face planted into a bathtub. Clearly… Already affected by this condition.’’
With mismatched fork and knife, I eat my second plate of food as civilly as I can, and ask:
‘’And what is this condition?’’
No matter how you mask it. I know its related to the hundreds of Thousands of refugees entering my country. Bringing with them their twisted values, strange culture, disease, hunger, rapists, terrorists... And just like the ‘pure tribes’ say we did, carrying among their swarm enemies never seen before, into the very heart of our home. But, I am interested to see how you will twist the facts just to proof my fascist mug wrong…
1, 2, 3… Go.
‘’It is an odd condition from which we know little…’’ Mother Voigt explains. ‘’But It has apparently happened to a whole city, in ancient Mesopotamia. Today, it is known as the Morpheus Sleep.’’
The what?
‘’It means your sept, isn’t anywhere on Telluriam or in any… Reachable level of the Umbra.’’ Renée says. ‘‘It is somewhere else. Trapped into a dream.’’
I have no idea what any of this means. But, expecting a nun and a bunch of Furies to fool me, I have been checking their words… Talents of being a former Philodox. They are telling me the truth.
‘’Well... Verdammt.’’ I put my cutlery away… Reaching for my wine krug. I can only have a long drink from it… ‘’…Why?’’
‘’There might be many reason for it. Possibilities are endless.’’ Mother Voigt proceeds. ‘’An angry Incarna… Misuse of a Fetish… A curse. One thing is clear, though. This is a powerful magic. Whatever made something like this possible, has a force beyond what we can control. We must proceed with extreme caution.’’
‘’Interesting.’’ I can’t mask the scorn on my voice. ‘’Considering this ‘condition’, is strange to all of us… I’d bet it was brought here by foreigners.’’
The furies exchange looks.
‘’What are you suggesting?’’ Renée asks, even though I imagine she knows the answer.
‘’I don’t know…. Maybe, this thing came with the swarm of refugees invading Europe for the last two years…?’ I drink again from my Krug, giving Renée a scornful grin.
‘’Nonsense.’’ Margot growls.
‘’Not quite. The ‘pure tribes’ say Europeans brought the Wyrm and crushed forever their Hippie utopia. Why has this, ‘theory’ been so embraced, even told to our cubs as a definitive truth. And mine, is nonsense?’’
Margot squeezes her glass. I can tell Zara has just kicked her from under the table, suggesting that she keeps it cool. She better do, I ain’t even started.
‘’…. Because your ‘theory’ is clearly based on your personal beliefs…And not on the truth.’’ Renée answers.
‘‘’Mother Voigt just told us this supposedly has happened on Mesopotamia…’’ I lean back to my chair, keeping an arm out to hold at my Krug. ‘’…Do you need a map to see where is that nowadays?’’
Renée quirks her brow, and my words are followed by silence… I am making sense here, uh? Abel is cuddling on his mother’s lap, belly full, and he snores loudly. So, Mother Voigt crosses her cutlery across her empty plate, and her hands over the table.
‘’I will not lie. What you propose, has crossed my mind…’’ The furies look at her inquiringly, and she sighs. Her thoughts seem to trail elsewhere before she looks up all of us. ‘’… Who wants desert?’’
Before I could even say that I’d have a cigarette instead, a howl echoed – loud and clear even through the walls of that old house. It was a warder, calling for the sept warriors. They were to gear up immediately.
Enemies were coming.
-
Mother Voigt reacted calmly to the warder’s call. She told Zara and Renée to come along with her, and they’d bring the children to safety. Abel was still asleep as a stone, a deep sleeper just like Aime. It occurred me this sept was some sort of orphanage. It is odd that besides Abel, I didn’t hear any laugh, whining or overall childish noises at all. I got one kid and I know how loud it can get… But, this wasn’t of my concern.
Battle is.
The Alpha’s orders to us was ‘Keeping the children safe by all means necessary’.
Margot looked at me when she drew a fucking M4 Carbine Commando - With Grenade Launcher. - as casually as it gets, from a tattoo on her right arm. Holy fuck. This chick is not messing around. She shoved a Magazine in, turning my direction once again challenging.
‘’Let’s see if you can back up all that attitude, Schleu. ‘’
I couldn’t prevent a wicked grin to take my lips, and so couldn’t she. In the end, we’re both soldiers for this war. And we like the enemy’s blood just the same.
-
We came out from a rather old mansion - like those in which teens in horror movies would shelter from a storm -finding a wide courtyard. It was plain, and completely covered by fresh snow. Just ahead of us is a round fountain, where the imposing figure of a mare raises mightily - Ice needles were hanging sharply from its feet, that'd be kicking the air. The whole area was blocked by the tallest living wall I've ever seen, covering any view of the perimeter. The thick layers of snow gathering above it like bricks adding to whatever it was expected from that odd choice for a barrier. If I went up my thumbs, maybe I could see tree tops, far away ...
‘’Listen…’’ Margot said, after she took a moment. Her eyes trailing the white wall ahead. I can only guess she has been talking through her pack link… ‘’This is a chase… Not a direct attack. One of ours was followed up here. There are six enemies on his heels…’’
I come closer to listen carefully, as she obviously is updated of the situation, and repeats it to me.
‘’The pursuers do not carry the Wyrm stench… Our head warder believes they are all Garou…. They did not enter the sept… He’d not draw them here…’’
She once again eyes the living wall, and I am guessing that works as some sort of shroud for this sept.
‘Our fugitive is now leading them around the terrain… They will be near our east gate in… Three minutes. The Head Warder don’t want to move his team out of position because the enemy didn’t enter the Sept. It’s all up to us, and we need to move NOW.’
Out of sudden, Margot comes to me and settles a hand on my shoulder, as gently as a wrecking ball. She speaks fucking seriously, looking deeply into my eyes. ‘You come with me. And you don’t do one damn thing until I give a signal. You copy?’
‘’Yes, ma’am.’’
‘’Good. Starting now!’’ Margot pull me harshly and simply tosses me up her shoulders, like I am some poor dear she just slaughtered!
‘’What the fuck are you doing?!’’ I resist at first of course, but it’s too late. Like a bulldozer, she goes in a rampage run towards the living walls, dragging me along.
I shut my eyes so they wouldn’t be pierced by the tangle of thorns we’d surely crash into…
-
‘’Fuck!’’
I am thrown meters from the ground, falling on my ass over a bunch of stones and rolling away like a corpse until I am stopped by a tree trunk. Chunks of snow falling all over me from shaking branches, when I push up with my arms up to look around, and have at least a clue of what the hell just happened: I am now somehow on the other side of the living wall. In the middle of a forest. It is quite dark for massive clouds are blocking the moonlight.
It is why I need a moment to spot that gigantic Crinos… Her pitch-black fur serving well as camouflage. She lies boobs to the ground, holding her gun 45 degrees up and towards the direction I am guessing, our enemy is coming. She puts her forefinger in front of her muzzle, asking me for silence.
Got the message.
I shift, fur covering me everywhere as I send the rage like a shock wave through my veins, tasting once more the satisfaction of morphing into a beast-like war machine. Hispo has been the most adequate form for I to fight, those days, thanks to Shark and its deadly bite.
I quietly fit to the covers I can find, leaning my muzzle to the snow so my breathing wouldn’t give away my presence, and patiently I, wait….
…
… I can hear the grunts of a predator moving at high speed. Brassier, at every second. Until even the gallop of its heavy paws is loud and clear. Weird. I was expecting the ‘prey’ to be someone lean and agile, like a Silent Strider. This was most certainly not the case.
So, a considerably large wolf emerges from the gloom ahead, and passes by like a rocket! I detect faintly his scent by the trail he leaves when he crosses our path. Weirdly, it is familiar. I can’t tell exactly who it belongs to, right way, but I know this wolf!
There is no time to get into it, now… The other six, they are coming.
I see three, approaching. Hunting their prey on its heels, and coming straight to our direction. The other three, unfortunately for us, would be spread in the forest and try flanking our wolf. Why would we need packs, if we’d hunt in a dull predictable line?
Now I wonder what sort of signal Margot will give… Will she nod, or perhaps wave a flag…? We have not the time for… Oh wait, she just fired her gun…
HOLY SHIT!
That crazy bitch just threw on them grenade! There’s a bright flash of combustion and mayhem as the three wolves are launched in the air, along with their limbs and everything else that was near. The sudden rumble bringing wheezing to my ears as they’re forced to stick and find shelter to my mane.
If that’s not a signal I don’t know what is.
I lose no time. Jumping into a smoke screen, for the kill.
-
The enemy is still dazzled by the surprise explosion. Flames vanishing away with smoke as they try to figure what has, like divine intervention, fallen from the skies over their heads! The first wolf is trying pathetically to get on his feet, unaware that his back legs are heavily broken… Before he has a chance to shift, or heal, I trample the cripple back to the ground: He whimpers, then shakes helplessly, when my preys get a violent grip of his throat – snapping bones and vitality into inevitable death.
I move to the next target.
One that grows over and above his back legs, shifting to Crinos - a tall silhouette, hidden by a smoky veil and roaring a challenge.
I meet it, head on! Clashing into that heavy Crinos with full power! He endures my weight well, pushing me away, and I settle my paws firmly to the hot ground. We look at each other… A moment of evaluation that happens in the split of a second. And it’s enough for us to know all we need: We are both children of Fenris, brothers by tribe.
Instead of even considering if this is a fight worthy of our blood, it stirs the warrior on us beyond reason. We get eager to see who will perish, and who will prevail – finally a real challenge for one of us to overcome.
I am clearly in advantage, for he is heavily burned; large patches of his fur were eroding away under fire. But soon, his whole body erupts in lumps, getting coated by a hide so tick a blade would break if swung against it. I can also call for the use of this gift, if I have to– the Troll Skin. I didn’t need it, though. That Fenrir, he was considerably damaged by the explosion, so he submitted to this… One second drawback to summon the Troll Skin’s bless, and I’d most certainly not waste it.
I make use of my rage, getting a heartbeat ahead of my enemy. In one move, as fast as a lightning, I go for his leg – passing through it, and tearing apart the tissue, bones and muscles on my way. The Troll skin is dense, it can soak a lot of damage. But, as I mentioned before, I am blessed by Shark. And it can’t endure the power of Shark’s vicious bite.
The Fenrir roared in anger, when his leg twisted awkwardly and then collapsed under his superior weight. I heard violent cracking noises…
I make quick a turn, to meet the back of my target that can do little to face me now. He is forced to place his hands on the ground to have a chance to move. So, I jump over his back, going for the neck! Fangs sinking deeply, cutting through armor and flesh… We roll away as he fights violently, unable to break free from my jaw’s deadly constriction…
We struggle on the top of our power, but I dig deeper and eventually, suffocate my enemy into submission… I can feel his body fighting to stay alive, veins throbbing under my mouth that mercilessly draws the last drops of his energy, bringing darkness to the warrior extinguishing below my superior strength… He starts to shrink into his born shape.
Shots are then fired.
Three projectiles blow my skin away - piercing deeply into my flesh, and drawing blood. I release my dying target and jog around the area… The bullets housed in my organs are quick to burn till its unbearable… It’s silver. I make use of the trees all around us to find cover from all gunshots still dazzling through me, and evaluate the field in which we shall fight till death.
There are three fallen garou – they perish into ashes, their bodies smoking. They are our original targets.
It is no challenge to find Margot. She is covered in blood that is not hers, and now carries her born shape, using large stones as cover as she exchanges fire with an enemy approaching from west. For what I see, he’s also on human form and is firing a Kalashnikov. I better not look at the mess this thing made. It was probably him who got me… Which means whatever wounds I am now carrying are no joke. Most likely he is one of the tree other Garou engaged on that wild hunt. Two more are coming for us.
I see them both running from Margot’s south… All gun shots muffling their deadly approach…
…
I wait till the last second… Jumping from the trees to intersect the two Hispos!
The three of us collide, being thrown away to different directions. I manage to get back to my feet, blocking the way to Margot. We may be in disadvantage now, but at least we both face our enemy… I snarl fiercely, looking to evoke my enemy’s most primal fears. They are both particularly savage, agile to recover their balance and very comfortable on their skin. My snarling is nothing to them, red furred beasts who glare at me with absolutely no humanity in their eyes…
Red Talons.
But why they’re hunting with the weaver-reeking hominids, that is a mystery to me.
I hear Margot’s shouting in pain. She was hit. I can only hope she can still hold her ground when the Red Talons - in admirable synchrony - launch at me.
One attempts to go around me, and even if he never meant to, it would still tease me into breaking my guard out of pure instinct, When I do, the other comes for my wounds. They trick me down, and then feast in my flesh!
Under devouring preys, that without a break are tearing me apart, it’s my turn to call for special gifts. In a matter of seconds, the blood dripping out my guts into their throats literally turns into a black, acid bile. It fills their mouth. The Venom Blood drives them all away, under a nauseating agony that takes their whole body from within: Tart erupting in their tongues.
I am now heavily wounded.
With struggle, I push up. Standing and enduring the weakness trying to overwhelm my senses. It is like the parts building my body don’t quite fit together. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t fall here, it was no option. I’ve been in far darker places and fought enemies a thousand times deadliest. Those Red Talons are no more than two piss-stinky pups.
Kids? It’s time for your lesson. Today Uncle Arnie will share some of his top notch, secret, war strategies to you. The subject for this pleasant evening is, to fight outnumbered. What you do when you’re all alone, and surrounded by a bunch of ugly mugs who want nothing else than beating you into a pulp?
It is very simple! You pick the tallest, most tough cookie in the jar… And trounce the fucking holy shit out of him!
I unleash all that is left of my rage! Striking like a hurricane of fangs and claws over the jackpot winner. My blood, a weapon itself, and my target is soaked under it. Lupus-born Garou hold tighter to their basic senses – hearing, vision, scent -which are now hurt causing a momentary disorientation... Cute. Those two, they may be good at a hunt. They’d flawlessly bring down a cornered prey…. But I aint no prey, I am a fucking lion! And they are no more than little jackals, like flies to me!
Without taking a breath I tear that unlucky mutt into pulsing, raw, steak. I’ve put all my coins on the table. All or nothing. Trashing and destroying that wolf until the last little bit of my energy. He roars, fights, falls... And then whines. Till he can’t no more. And I still wouldn’t stop! I can see only red, until everything darkens... For all my rage was washed out. Gasping, but with my preys dripping of the enemy’s flesh, I stand over a corpse crumbled into ground meat….
My legs are about to give in.
Through a blurred filter, I scan my surroundings… The remaining Red Talon is nowhere to be seen. So, it worked. Big bad wolf just fled like a puppy. Or, I can only hope, because if he didn’t… Well. I am fucked.
An unusual silence dominates – There are no gunshots, pained moaning, or glorious howls. All I can hear is a soft breeze far away, bringing along the cold air of the mountains. Then I see, away in the shadows… A ghost is approaching.
Exhaustion finally possesses my body, spreading wide open the numerous mortal wounds covering me. Unable to prevent it, I watch myself shrinking into my human shape, before I fall to the ground. And now, I can only lie there, breathless, over the seething flesh of my enemy colouring this battlefield. My sight is smudgy, and blends to the cloudy skies above, still, loud and clear, I know he patiently paces my way… His strides vibrate in the land feeding of our decomposing matter.
The contours of a warrior are drawn before me – the last man standing- like a shadow which the edges are trimming from the skies. I can’t see his face, but I can tell he laughed at me, taking pleasure at the view of a warrior, who killed a thousand times. Overcame, destroyed, improved himself daily to achieve perfection, only to perish there, nowhere, for nothing or no one… Under the barrel of his gun.
He aims the riffle at my temple.
He pulls the trigger.
Continues.