CUSPIDS

CUSPIDS

                       By Ethan Michael            

THE HUNT ENDS

The rusty Cages stinking of Piss and Blood. Horrific howls of pain and torture screaming throughout the night. The dimly lit Jasper-Green Crescent moon barely allows any light to pass through my eye. Right of me, my Kins Cold lifeless bodies rest; Ulric & Thea were their names.

           To my left. The Strong-willed still cling to Life, Luella & Rowley. Despite her grey hair stained red with her blood. Neither her fair skin nor her slim stature which is covered in mud. Not even the dirt stuck in those pearly grey eyes. Not even the strong iron bars that enslave us. Could ever tarnish her Beauty. Unconscious, she still admits a light of hope.

           Rowley on the other hand whose rough features give him charm. He’s Feared & Fearless. Hardy & Harsh. His reliability has always put me at ease. Before, all this he was rather popular in the tribe. Especially among the young maidens. However, now he takes the Role of Leader amongst our dwindling Pack.

He courses his hands through shit-colored mud. Furthermore, moving, his eyes back and forth, seemingly counting. Counting the Rusty Cages? Counting The Dead Tribes? Counting The Screaming ones who still live? The role of leadership suits him well. Even despite our despairing situation he still has hope. Howling Screams of desperation grow louder and then. Silence. More kin have been slaughtered.

The orange flames coming from the various torches continuously move back and forth. Now, one of those torches patiently waits in front of our Cage. A moist feeling of saliva splashes my face. The Torch now has eyes. Those eyes of hatred connect with mine. “You Damn Hounds,” The Hateful Eyes Spout. The Rusty Cage Door slowly creaks open. The hateful eyes now have feet, which stand before me. One of those feet vigorously strikes my head. Red begins to leak from the wound caused by the strike.

“You’re Filth. Your kind here will cease,” The Hateful Eyes say.

           The eyes now have arms. One of those arms which carry the bright orange flames. Strikes my face. The heat. The pain. The smell. I do nothing in retaliation. I simply grasp my face and wail in pain. “AHHHHHHH.”

           Those hateful eyes connect to another gaze. However, that gaze does not reside in this cage. He Leaves. Making sure to tightly Secure the Cage.

           A Hands firm grasp gently pulls me upright. “Here my brother, stand proud for you’re still breathing,” Rowley says with a soft smile.

           “I admit. I wish to spill blood brother,” I say.

           He opens his mouth, revealing his protruding cuspids. He motions to stay quiet, “Shh. Hush now brother. Our time will come.”

           I smile with glee. “I just can’t believe they were able to snag this many tribes. So many Kin slaughtered. So many Green-lit nights taken. I must admit brother. I hate Man.”

           He pats my shoulder and rubs Luella’s bleeding head. “Put your faith in me, my Kin. I will not allow any more sleepless nights. However, we must remain patient brother. The Jasper Moon has yet to become Full. When it does. All those who still live will strike.”

           Panning my vision around and nodding with agreement, I say. “I must admit, Rowley, I crave freedom and a life filled with Wild. Our kind does not belong in Cages Brother. We simply exist and yet Man, Blood-Takers.”

           “Vamps, Rolfe,” he Interrupts. 

           “Man, Vamps,” I continue. “Ghouls & Those Phantoms. They all slaughter our Kin with such prejudice. Such hatred. For what? We simply wish to exist.”

           He pumps his burned fist as he nods his head. As if my words of endearment. Encourage and inspire him. “Yes, My Kin. As I said, Rolfe, our time will come. A time when Beastly Hounds bite instead of bark. However, we must remain patient! The Jasper Moon will become Full in 4 nights time.”

           “4 Night’s time?” I interject. “Yes, the other Pack leaders who still hold true to their tribe. Have all been planning. Every tribe you see in these Rusty cages,” He points. “They all wish for the same thing as you and I brother.”

           Suddenly, the Men begin to wrawl. “Come Boys, Tonight the Hunt Ends!” Sounds of mockery begin to erupt and echo throughout this filthy land of Cages. “Awooo, Awooo,” The yammering continues. Then, screams of our beloved quickly ensue. Our Kin, dragged from their tails which we hold so proudly. Screams of Fear? Agony? Torment? Why? Why must this happen?

I bring my hands to my cold face. “Brother, what is happening?” I speak. Just then, The Rusty Cage door violently swung open. 4 Men came. Grabbing Rowley & Luella, Yanking them with powerful might. A hand reaches for me. So, I Bite. “Ya lil Shit,” The man wails out in pain. A Smirk comes to my face.

Luella’s eyes lock with mine. She swings her head and mouths out, “No.” Suddenly, A sharp jolt of pain pinches my thigh. I look down. An Arrow protrudes. The Hateful Eyes lock once again with mine.

           For some reason, I cannot scream. I cannot cry. I’m frozen. It’s almost as if the spirit of Wild has completely left me. Yet, I Stand proud and swing my open hand out. Slashing one of the 4 men across the face. Cuts of 4 now leak. He plops to the floor. “Kill that one.” he cries out.

“Here little puppy,” The Hateful eyes say.

However, I pay him no mind. For my gaze instead, is fixated on the current massacre happening before me. Tribes being inhumanly killed by the dozen. A Kin child is held down and dismembered. A Tribe Leader is strangled with iron chains. A Tribe Mother is pinned to the floor by multiple Men. Shaking her head as tears leave her face.

These Shadows have Watercolored blue eyes. Smile as they do these horrid acts of suffering. I dance with my gaze. Watching beastly male and female run rampant. Some claw the mud as they are dragged away. Some fight with savagery like a Hound. Others beg for their life but are killed anyway. Furthermore, the majority simply are crying.

           “Why? Why must this happen? I admit I hate this sight,” I say.

           The 4 Men begin to Laugh. They shake and drag both Luella & Rowley. Brown cord restricts Luella’s movements. A Bag that holds Cyan blue glowing powder. Is put in front of her face. She vigorously shakes her head.

“No. No. No. Stop. Please stop,” she cries and begs.

Yet, her words are not heard. The men jerk her downwards. Covering her in the powder. Her arms burst open like a flower in a field. Her skin transforms into Silverish, Jasper, and Green Fur. She starts to mangle and mutate. “Please noooo,” she begs.

A runny moist feeling trinkles down my cheeks. Tears. I know it’s already too late. The powder. I…I Hate it. It forces our gift to be used against us. This is how Man enjoys murdering our Kin. So many Pacts. So many Tribes. So many of our kind. Killed by the very thing that makes them. Them. It’s outrageous.

Luella’s Limps and features continue to expand and mutate. Her gorgeous beauty is tarnished. The 2 Men begin to Strike her with Maces. Whilst the forced transformation continues.

Rowley quickly bites the hand of one of the Men holding him. He screams out, “Brother, we cannot wait. We must act now!” He shoves the other man across the Cage. Reaching out he snags, The Hateful Eyes crossbow. Turning fast, he shoots out an arrow. The flies by me momently before landing on its direct target’s skull. One of the men drops.

           Then, I yank out the protruding arrow stuck in my thigh. I reach for Luella. However, a blade drags across her neck. I freeze. Stuck in horror while I stare at this sight. I reach my hand outward. “Luella?”

           An arrow swiftly zips by piercing the head of the Knife’s Eyes. Another body drops. “Brother! Come now, we must not haste,” Rowley motions me forward while outside the rusty Cage. “She’s Dead. We grieve her in the morn. We must escape and stay clear of the mutation Powder.”

 My wound bounds itself up. I rush forward. Dashing by the lifeless corpses. The sight beyond the rusty cage gets closer. I take a large leap. Raising my eyebrows at this sight I now see.

“I’m outside the Cage,” I say.

A gentle hand pats my shoulder. “Yes, My brother. Now, come for our night is not here.”

I nod at Rowley. He smiles at me. But then, his face expands and peels like a butterfly hatching from its cocoon. A pointed steel Spear extends from a hole in which his nose and mouth are. A bloody red shower falls from the Spear. The spear retracts. His lifeless body drops. My chest tightens whilst my heart feels as if it's drowning. My lip quivers at the sight I see.

Laughs. Laughs of mockery begin to chant from the Man with the Steel Spear. His crooked teeth and round nose make me furious. He raises and points the Steel Spear at me. As if to taunt me. “Look, ya friends Stout is still dangling,” he laughs. “Seems I clipped the Mutt just right.”

           My body feels weightless. My vision focused. The wounds that cover me, hurt no longer. I open the palms of my hands. Revealing the powerful claws of my Kin. I lift my nose and clench my cheeks in anger. I accept his challenge. He smirks with arrogance.

           I dash forward. He thrust his Spear. However, I evade. I swiftly move forward and contort, angling myself to where I can Slash. Which I do. I aim for his neck yet, he quickly backs away. Five cuts rip the flesh on his chest. The large gashes bleed with such ease.

           He looks down at his wound and back at me. The arrogant smirk returns. Normally one would be wailing in pain. However, I believe his adrenaline has reached where he cannot feel. We have reached the same state. I smirk back at him. This is a battle of life and death. A battle in which the two of us can agree. One will become lifeless.

           The wind whistles silently. The screams that surround us have become muffled. The blazing embers flicker forcibly. A dead calm. The two of us stare at one another. All thoughts and reasons behind us. Then like a charge from battling rams, we rush forward. He thrust his Spear once more; I evade once more. Man is so predictable. Then, we collide. My cuspids sink deep into that mortal neck of us. His arms try to fight momentarily but they drop. I hold his cold lifeless body with my teeth.

 The taste of iron corrodes my mouth. I let his body drop. I have avenged one of my Kin. I have slain my first Man. I’m one step closer to attaining the mark of the Beast. Suddenly, Howls erupt throughout the night. Long and deep in tone. My Kin’s calling can be heard for miles. What I see before me is a beastly feast. The hounds are biting back.

THE NIGHT BEGINS

“Rolfe, over here!” Tribe Leader Kell yells as he waves me down.

I run as fast as I can. My legs leaving the ground with each dashing stride. I smile as I gallop. My hands join my feet. I run on all fours feeling the cold nights breeze whisk upon me. A hue of Jasper-Green reflects upon the ground. I stop in my tracks and glance upwarp to see. The Mighty Full Jasper-Green Moon glows in the sky. Eyebrows raised and mouth wide.

“4 Nights Time? He said 4 nights.” I question.

A gentle yet firm hand rubs my head. It’s Kell. His Sliver hair and Sliver eyes glow in the moonlight. A gash runs down his left eye. The wound has sealed yet the scaring remains. With a growling howl and prideful scream. He has now taken the form of the Beast. His stature has grown 4 feet. His fur is soft and silky, It’s the same color as the moon. A broad torso with wide and powerful legs.

His pact behind him quickly being to do the same. “Woooooo,” They howl. All of them also now resemble the Beast. Kell remains the biggest. Looking downward at me he speaks. “Our Time is now my Kin. Transform and take the mark of the Beast.”

“I thought the Moon would become full in 4 nights time?”

The slaughter continues around us as we speak. “A lie,” he says. “We couldn’t let Man know. We will answer your questions later. However, we must not haste.”

I nod and look backwards. Seeing Rowley’s body one final time. I glance upward at the Moonlight. It’s Jasper-Green hue radiates on my skin. My head pulsing and heart thumping aggressively. My chest feels as if it’s being ripped apart. Like cloth being spilt in two for bandages. My bones begin to break and shatter. Like the snapping of a twig or stick.

A burning sensation courses throughout my veins. Almost like boiling hot water placed upon my skin. Finally, a powerful pulse continuously builds. Then, exploding in my head like a bird spreading its wings. Features change quickly like a flower sprouting in autumn.

           At last, I have finally taken the mark of the beast. “Woo,” I howl. Kell’s pact looks at me with such pride. Such joy. We simultaneously nod without second thought. We scam into the woods. Escaping.

MANEATER

           Several months have passed since my new Pact, and I escaped. Kell remains our leader. He helps us slay many Men. Helps us prey. My cuspids have grown larger than any other in our pact. Sharp and deadly. I continuously, take the necks of Men. I’ve even been nicknamed “Man Eater.” Serves them right, I hate man. My eyes have grown Hateful for any who isn’t my Kin.

           “Rolfe.” Kell motions me to him.

           “Yes, brother.”

           He begins to walk whilst making sure I follow. The morning spring dew mixed with the beautiful flora smell. Tall green and yellow spring trees. Rocky hills with clear ponds and lakes. Our new home is Secure. “Makes me feel safe,” I say.

           “What? What was that, Rolfe?” Kell asks.

           Smiling while shaking my head I reply, “Oh nothing. Just glad we’re away from Man, Vamps, Ghouls, even Phantoms. We’re somewhat safe.”

           He pats my back following with a soft, brotherly chuckle. “Well, that’s what I brought you over here for,” He points at a Man and Child. “These two aren’t just any regular Man.” He looks at me and points to the older man. “Take a look at him.”

           My eyes cannot believe what they see. The gaze that I now connect with is the same Hateful Eyes that used to cause me such unease. Yet now those eyes are dim and even lifeless. Just an empty void. Mine now, however, hold fire and burn with that same hate.

           The child looks at me. Pitiful soul. The ropes that bind him are tight and harsh. Yet, his eyes brim with hope. Bending down I pat the young lad on the shoulder. I move my upper lip revealing my Cupids. I Motion him to stay quiet. He backs away and begins to cry.

           Tapping my finger onto my lips I say. “Shh, don’t tell anyone.”

 He squalls and squeals. Kell then shoves a rag into his mouth and begins dragging him away. “I’ll leave that one to you,” he says.

Those eyes of hate which no longer reside, connect once more with mine. A slouched back, beaten face, ragged wears, and hands that are now bound. The parallel between our situations causes me to let out a chuckle. 

           “Funny, is it?” he says while spitting at the ground.

I dunk a cup into the nearby water hole. Putting the cup to his lips. I say, “Poetic.” He smirks yet still he drinks. I smile as he sips. Some of my Kin from the Pact watch from a distance. Focused are their eyes. “You drove my Tribe to its extinction. Yet still here we are stronger than ever.” I bend down looking directly into the Defeated Eyes. “Leave one Hound alive and the Pact still remains.”

           Howling irrupts all throughout the campgrounds. Then, the bashing sound of feet stomping the ground. The Man grows uneasy. Frantically he moves his eyes. Squirming to fix his posture and sit upright. He moves his head left to right. Muttering words begin to come from his mouth.

           He’s counting. Counting the enemies who hold him hostage? Counting the fellow tied-up Men? Counting the dead bodies? The role of hostage suits the Defeated Man well. I bring my hand upright slashing his now bloody face. He lets out a wail of pain.

           Suddenly, he arches his back and coughs up Blood. He gazes at me. The whites of his eyes are wide. Those Blue pupils dilated. I put my hand on his shoulder digging my claws into his skin.

           “Fate is resourceful you, see? It always brings what is necessary. It always helps what is predestined,” I say sarcastically.

           “What… What do you mean?” he coughs up even more dark, red, blood. “What have you done?” His back spits open. His ribs slowly contorting into wings. He screams with a sound of disparity. A sound I only heard the day before our escape.

           I raise the cup in which he drank. Inspecting it closely. “Mutation Powder.” I glance once more at him. “Ever wonder what it does to a Human? Well, we sure have.” His limbs implode. His Voice ceases. He drops dead. “Now, we know,” I say as the Full Jasper-Green Moon begins to shine and glow.

The End