Nicole McKenna (monstergrrl) wrote in totheoutside, @ 2014-12-28 16:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | etienne, floyd, nicole, part 4 |
hear him howlin' around your kitchen door...better not let him in...
So this was Purgatory. Where every good little monster went when they died. Bad little monsters that ate human hearts, too. It wasn't so bad, being dead. Nicole hadn't expected it to be. What was unexpected was the quiet of the gray winter woods. The solitude.
Werewolves had a hierarchy. Alpha and beta and omega, dominance or submission. She'd expected some to come and seek her out by now. Try and test her strength. Try and make her submit. She welcomed the idea. She was stronger than she'd ever been. Nicole walked and waited, growing bored as the time passed.
Other things wrong, in this place that was supposed to be her afterlife. She wasn't dressed in the thrift shop jeans and flannel shirt she'd had on when she'd died. Her wolf t-shirt and the faint burn of the little silver wolf necklace, those were gone, too. Nicole was wearing leather and furs, doeskin leggings and tunic, fur-lined cape tied around her shoulders.
And then she heard the ring of an axe. Some peasant chopping wood in a clearing. Nicole wasn't even being insulting. It was an honest-to-dog peasant, wool leggings and tunic and leather cape-thingy with a long, pointy hood. A human.
That cleared things up. There weren't any humans in Purgatory. And she was suddenly hungry, scenting the peasant's blood on the crisp winter air. There wasn't any hunger in Purgatory. So...She wasn't dead.
What she was, was really, really hungry.
When Nicki came to again, that terrible hunger was sated. The woodcutter was just a torn-up corpse lying in the blood-stained snow.
Shit.
...
Waxing crescent moon. Time was screwed up, between Providence and Medieval Times. Senses heightened like never before. Every time Nicole got close to the forest boundary she could hear people talking. Peasants and poachers and shepherds and guards. Quaint, old-timey accents, hard to understand. Some phrases stood out, though. She could make enough sense of the words to figure things out.
Some phrases really stood out. Frankenstein Castle...It figured.
Night, and Nicole prowled around the high stone walls, werewolf slipping through the shadows under the waxing crescent moon, howling. Terrifying the peasants. The lord of the manor would come out and see what all the fuss was about, wouldn't he?
An almost human cry, among the eerie, monster howls. "Flooooooooyd..." Nicki retreated back to the edge of the forest, up into the spreading branches of a tree. She hadn't come here for a confrontation, but her control over the wolf was sketchy. She could smell his blood, hear his heartbeat when he ventured out into the night.
And she was hungry again already.