Breaking Point NPC Journal (breaking_npcs) wrote in breaking_point, @ 2009-10-03 14:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | *complete, 2024 10, npc: werewolf |
RP: Werewolf attack
Who: The werewolf pack, wizard family
Where: A fair bit outside Lowestorft, England
When: October 3, 2024, from sunset onwards into the night
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 (Murder, cannibalism, rape, killing of children and foetuses… Read with caution!)
Summary: The Werewolf pack attacks again
Above them the sky was darkening, the full moon approaching. In the isolated valley below a father was playing in the yard with his young son. A mother was watching them from the window with a smile on her face. They couldn’t see her body, but he knew that she was pregnant.
A month had gone by since last time they stood like this, watching a scene almost identical to the one they were watching now. The pack was gathered close, standing naked as they waited – and in the middle, their latest. Their youngest. The one who was not yet but would be a part of their pack.
She was standing naked like the rest, wide eyed as the scene played out in front of her. The father lifting his son high in the air. The little boy screeching with laughter. Still, he knew she didn’t see. Her eyes were open, but her mind was elsewhere. With another father, with another mother and another small boy. The family was not chosen arbitrarily.
Over the weeks she’d stopped crying, stopped screaming, stopped fighting. She’d died – and tonight she’d feel the power of what she’d become and she’d be reborn as one of them finally removing herself from the human she had been.
A shuffle, a shiver, and they knew the sun was about to set. He turned, watching his pack before turning to watch the sky. He could feel it now, the sun setting, and kept looking at the place where the moon would rise. The pack was getting anxious, restless, and then, just then, the moon became visible over the horizon and he could feel the pain take hold as every limb seemed to dislocate and stretch and reform. A joint howl of pain, and through them all a piercing scream as a girl felt for the first time the pain of her transformation.
It was an eerie sound that scream, and the father below looked up the hill as he heard it, only to be faced by the image of eight werewolves already howling, already charging at him. He didn’t have a chance, even if he had reacted as fast as he could. For a moment he stood still, transfixed, then as if he snapped out of the trance he grabbed his son and ran. He ran towards the house, towards the woman who had been standing in the window but left for whatever reason and therefore no longer saw what was happening.
He was shouting out warnings that went unheeded because the barks of the eight werewolves drowned it out. So rather than fleeing, the mother came out onto the steps. Disapparate! The man shouted, but before he himself could, powerful jaws closed on limbs. A shout and a scream and the man fell forwards, his son being thrown out of his arms as hit the ground. The child screamed. The father screamed. The mother screamed even as she ran – not from the werewolves, but towards them, towards her son – in a vain attempt to save the injured boy.
Families were always the easiest targets. Parents would go to any length to protect their children. It was a universal truth that came in handy.
These two had spirit, he’d give them that. The man was clawing the ground, trying to get to his son and his wand. He was a strong man, fighting with everything he had. Even as a large chunk of his leg was pulled off, he kept fighting. And the mother was fighting too. She, unlike her husband, had her wand, and even as set of jaws closed around her leg and pulled her to the ground (she curled up, protecting her stomach, the unborn child) she kept throwing hexes right and left, at as many werewolves as she could. Some hit, some missed, werewolf blood mixed with hers and her husband’s. But her hexes did little good, a few cuts any werewolf could handle.
Growling, he himself jumped over the man and approached the hexing woman the woman. With a swift throw of his head her wand hand was torn off. It was still clutching the wand as he let it lie on the ground, jumped over her, grabbed her leg and started pulling her towards the house. He did not look behind him, but knew the husband was suffering a similar fate. The boy – hurting, freezing, screaming and bleeding – was left behind as the husband and wife was pulled over the steps leading into their own home through the door the wife had so conveniently opened for them.
Into the hall way and to the right. A living room. Sofa, arm chair, bookcase, radio, fireplace. Dropping her in the middle of the room, he licked at the blood running down her leg. She was bleeding more heavily now, the blood coming from more than the wounds inflicted by them. Apparently babies in stomachs did not like being pulled roughly over sharp edges of stairs, or their mother falling to the groun. The woman cried in pain, clutching at once her hand and her stomach, screaming for her baby boy outside. He took no pity on her as he tore at her clothes, his head buried between her thighs as he lapped up the blood that came from within her. The father screamed behind him, that they should leave her alone. The only one they were leaving alone at the moment was the child outside. For now. The others had already started eating, and even as the man was eaten alive, he was forced to watch his woman claimed by a wolf. She screamed louder as he forced himself into her, a thrust of his hips forcing her legs wide apart as he took her and eventually spilled inside her. Only then did he leave her along, for the other to enjoy as they please.
Like the last time, they took their turns, in the order of the pack, and in the midst of chaos a younger wolf was too excited to stop herself from killing the husband, her bite too deep as she pulled out his intestines and started playing with them as if they were the most delightful toy. The reprimand is instantaneous, as he cannot have a wolf on his pack that does not obey his command. Her delighted growls turned to whimpers as he pushed her down and growled low in her ear. Before letting her go, he nipped her hard in the ear, making her bleed, making her calmer, more inclined to obey the next time.
Turning from their youngest to the woman still being claimed and raped by everyone in turn, he padded over, looking her in the eyes before lowering his nuzzle to her taut stomach. There, her terrified screams ringing in his ear, he nipped and bit until he tore it apart, his nuzzle covered in blood as he dug deep and pulled out what she had within and ate it. Two bites, small thing it was, but it was enough for the woman to die with a look of absolute terror on her face.
A bark and his pack obeyed immediately. Dead humans are no longer fun and they needed to get away before the sun rise. The child was barely screaming any more as they left the house, weakened by the cold and the pain and the blood-loss. He definitely did not scream after they’d all stepped over and on him, trampling him into the ground as they ran – not for the hill but in the other direction, for the water. The river would wash them of the blood, and make them harder to trace. The brooms they had waiting with their clothes would make it harder still – impossible – for those wanting to track them. The next full moon was only a month away, and he needed to select their next target.