Mated to Morpheus

o.MTM.1

the beginning of the end

The form shifted, their bones cracked loudly and then popped themselves back into place. The disturbing sounds echoed through the forest, broke the silence and threatened anyone who dared to come near. There would be no warning if a human took a brave step forward in that very moment, instead the poor soul would be found ripped open with torn apart organs and a crushed skull—an absolute blood bath.

Thankfully, the hunters were long gone, had ran off as soon as the act was done. You see, the members of the pack knew that those who claimed to be hunters were appalling, sickening, and monstrous. But, they could not deny that the hunters did know better than to stay at the scene.

They only prayed on the weak, and thought they were the strong.

However, the revenge kills that were about to take place were already signed in their blood the exact second that they decided to hunt children from the Ventus Pack. And, they were going to regret it, because their fates were going to be much worse than their victim's. He was going to find them. He was going to kill them. And, just like theirs, there would be no mercy in his touch.

Once the change was done, their figure was clearly one of a man. His back rolled and his shoulder blades moved as he straightened his posture. Now, at his full height of seven feet, the others had started the same transformation from wolf to man.

"Morpheus, your cloak." A man had appeared beside him, his light hair falling to his shoulders as it continued to grow from short tufts of fur to silky and much longer hair. In his hand was a bundle of fabric, and he held it out for Morpheus to take.

"Thank you, Leander," Morpheus replied, grabbing the article of clothing and throwing it on easily. Leander, the only one on this earth to call him by his true name and not his title.

They stood tall, still. Warriors were not far behind, just a mere foot between them. Morpheus bent down, one hand dipping its fingers into a puddle of blood and the other gently placing itself over the matted fur to feel any indents before the natural shift would automatically change the dead wolf into a child's corpse. He lifted up his hand and sniffed the dripping red liquid, disappointment shook his head, "Nothing."

But, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a speck of dark brown. A shade that was not a match to the bright, orange colour of the soaked and tangled fur. Morpheus gently lifted up the head of the wolf and pried their jaw open, in their clasp was a torn piece of fabric.

Morpheus pulled the piece of clothing up to his face, and his nostrils flared at the faint scent of a human. It was light, barely there, but it was enough. "Good boy," he whispered, so quiet under his breath that only the lost soul could hear him.

"What is it, Morpheus?" Leander questioned curiously, leaning over his shoulder as he eyed the sample suspiciously. "Is that-"

"It is," Morpheus unknowingly started to grin from ear to ear as he breathed in the air, even his teeth had began to elongate and poke out from his lips at the idea of finding the hunters soon. His green orbs flashed a deadly shade of rage, as they focused on a fog-like line that ran through the overgrown trees. "And, they are not very far."

The form below him suddenly moved, convulsing uncontrollably as their bones adjusted with no help from their owner. The shape transformed into a small, defenseless boy. The only thing that covered his bare, mutilated body was a thick coat of his own blood.