Wolf Got Your Tongue? (A Hemlock Grove fanfiction #JustWriteIt.)

Chapter 1

As the moon shivered and pulled a few wispy clouds over its pale, naked face, a howl echoed through the forest. A shudder rippled through Roman's body as he pulled his coat closer to his skin.

"Come on, come on, where are you, you son of a bitch?" His accent was rough with the chill of the night air, and jagged was the line of broken skin on his lips, which he had been gnawing away at for hours now. Where was Peter? Roman knew the sound of his friend- his only friend, apart from Letha- and that howl had not been him.

Suddenly there was a crash from the brush behind Roman.  He had been leaning against his car gazing into the shadowy forest, the bonnet glinting in the moonlight like wet, slippery blood; but now he spun round, bottom actually warmer now in the biting wind than it had been against the cold, metal shell of the motor car.

"Who's there?" Roman' eyes darted frantically across the strip of silvery ferns by the side of the opposite ditch, searching rapidly for a perpetrator.

All of a sudden, an enormous, shadowed hulk of a monster lumbered from the encompassing shade of the trees, unusually pale hands reaching for his neck-

"Shelley!" For an instant, Roman was relieved- but soon his eyes were narrowed. "What are you doing here?" Frown lines clawed their way across his forehead as he took his hands from his pockets.

Preluding the mechanical female's voice was the staccato rap of the stylus against the phone screen, and then: "Mother wants you to come home."

"Yeah, well, she can go stick one up her ass," Roman replied.

Shelley bowed her head, and began tapping away at the screen again. Roman observed that her colour- her radiance- was more noticeable in the dark. Her dark, raven-black hair covered her face apart from one crescent, and the skin that was showing was glowing a cerulean blue so odd that Roman wondered how it had come to be like that, although it had always just been. "Please." The voice had no emotion, but when Shelley looked up at him through the curtain of hair, her soul spoke through her eyes.

Roman let out a short sigh- he was doing this for his sister, he told himself- and threw up his hands. "Fine. Get in." He thumbed his car keys and the unlocking sound echoed eerily off the surrounding darkness. "Hold up- did you walk here?" he asked her as she awkwardly clambered into the Jaguar. He was answered with a nod. "Shiiiiit." He started the car engine.

As they drove off, a low snarl came from the ferns. Then a rustle and the pitter-patter of padded feet. Wet, red footprints followed the white wolf as she skulked her way out of the shadows. She dropped something by her feet- a long, wet, red something. As she lifted her head toward the night sky, the moon stripped itself of clouds and shone down fully upon its slave.  And as the tongue glistened wetly by her stained paws, she howled.