The Wolf of the Wilds

The Church

She was in heaven.

Helena was having the time of her life as she ran a finger along the length of a dusty book shelf. She read each title, taking the time to rub the years of dirt from each of their spines and growing ever more jovial with each one she picked out. Her arms were laden with the musty objects and she had already transferred her findings to an old, battered shopping trolley so she could carry everything. Some of her favourite discoveries included a book called an atlas that contained maps of the entire world, one about the solar system and another about the human history of martial arts. She was itching to read them all, but she felt a little guilty for her lack of actual scavenging. So far she hadn't even thought about her original goal of making money from the trip.

She left the bookshop with a hastily stacked pile and hopped over an uplifted section of concrete as she went towards her trolley.

The ground was terribly cracked and pitted. Plants had long since reclaimed this place as their own and trees sprouted from every fracture in the road, from beneath every dislodged flagstone. Their trunks and roots crowded the floor, while their bodies grew tall and spindly as they attempted to reach the sunlight. Mosses and small shrubs covered every inch of remaining grey with a film of green, the soft plants cushioning her footfalls.

Her cloak whipped around her and her hair writhed like snakes as a gust of wind blustered through, the buildings screaming and the trees murmuring to her. Her hand reached up to still her thrashing cloak and she turned her head away.

"Bloody wind tunnels," she muttered, taking back the handle of the trolley and continuing to push it forwards.

She headed around a corner, skyscrapers leering down at her. As the street came into view, she paused and she drew a sharp breath, her eyes taking in the sight ahead.

At the end of the road stood a large stone church. The style of architecture was out of place within the grasps of the tall tower blocks. It stood illuminated by the sun and trees had taken root within, branches and leaves peeking through the broken roof and smashed windows. She left her trolley and approached with slow careful steps, her shoulders pulled back as she took several more experimental sniffs of the stagnant air.

Despite the place's beauty, her senses were telling her that something was off. Nothing stuck out to her though. There was no misplaced scent. No out of place objects. No unfamiliar noises.

Still she was uneasy and her hand clung to her blade with a vice like grip. Her mind flitted through a list of paranormal creatures, mentally ticking them off as she went. It wasn't a wolf, that was certain. Nor was it a vampire; it was daytime after all and there was no blood to consume here. As she got closer, her list grew shorter and a frown marred her face.

Without warning the city began shaking and Helena covered her ears as noise cut through the thick air, her ankles growing weak as she tried to block out the din.

The sound of a bell rang out through the streets, emanating from the church's tower. It was deafening and it sounded like a cacophony of confused chimes. A pandemonium of chaos. Her gaze locked in on the source of the commotion, a slight movement catching her attention up in one of the windows.

Dread filled her stomach and her skin took on a pallid sheen as realisation filled her.

"Nachzehrer." Her voice wavered slightly as the word fell from her tongue and she stumbled slightly as she staggered towards the church, her hand scrambling for her knife with an unfamiliar desperation.

Nachzehrer, a cousin of the common vampire. Rather than feeding off of the blood of the living they lived as parasites, eating corpses to sustain their bodies. It wasn't unusual for them to resort to self cannibalism in harsh times and they were well known for inhabiting abandoned churches. Anyone that heard the creature ring the church's bell would fall beneath their curse and would slowly weaken and die, providing a fresh new cadaver for it to feast upon. Fortunately paranormal creatures often had a slight resistance to such curses, but the only real way to break the affliction was to have the nachzehrer lift it or to kill the nachzehrer itself.

Her body protested as she clambered the steps to the rotten door, the Nachzehrer's curse weakening her muscles at an alarming rate. With her shoulder leaning into the stone archway, she reached into her bag and pulled a coin from a pouch, gripping it tight within her shaking fist. She pushed the door open with her back. It gave way under the force of her exertion and squeaked as the rusted hinges grated together.

A low breath passed through her lips, sounding almost like a hoarse growl.

"Nachzehrer!" She yelled, adjusting her hold of the silver blade as she staggered through the entrance hall. "Nachzehrer! Show yourself!"

As she passed the aisles, her eyes took on a wild fury, her teeth bared as her breaths came heavy and ragged. Blood pounded in her ears and she felt more monster than sane in that moment. The full moon had only just passed and its insanity was still strong in her.

The room was dark and musty, only illuminated by light seeping in from above. The windows had been boarded up and ancient propaganda covered the walls in faded yellow and red paints.

"Wolf?" A soft voice whispered from the alter.

Helena raised her head, snarling at the man stood in the shroud of darkness. His face was malnourished, lined and sunken, while his teeth appeared sharp and inhuman. Bite marks and strips of flesh had been torn from his bare arms, leaving the skin scarred and a jarring shade of grey.

"Undo it," she hissed as her knees wobbled beneath her, her arm flying out to grab the back of one of the benches.

He tilted his head to the side, his bones creaking in a way that wasn't natural as the exposed muscles squelched and the joints ground against one another.

"But I'm so hungry," he replied softly. "I haven't seen another person in years. Why would I turn down such an easy meal?"

Her legs gave out and she fell to her hands and knees with a thump and a pained gasp.

"Release me," she repeated through gritted teeth, glaring up at him through her hair.

He moved with an awkward limp, his appendages swinging from side to side as he travelled the nave. 

"You are already succumbing. Just accept your death you mangy mutt." He halted a metre or two away from her, his hollow eyes staring down at the fallen wolf with a blank look of famished dispassion.

"You'll regret this pig," she spat. Her arms began shaking and her breathing grew ever more laboured as she struggled to hold herself up. She squeezed her eyes shut, a pained frown on her face.

The room was quiet as her body hit the floor, her dark eyes starring up at the monster that stood above her with agonised fury. Her chest rose and fell sporadically, her knife clattering to the ground as it slipped from her limp fingers.

"I win wolf," the nachzehrer whispered, drawing closer. Saliva visibly pooled in his mouth as he knelt at her side, his teeth primed for feasting. 

A/N

Thank you for reading this part! Wow, I'm sorry for being an arsehole and leaving this on a cliffhanger, but this part was getting rather long and this seemed like a natural break. I'll try and update in the next day or two to make up for it. As usual votes, comments and constructive criticisms are welcomed!

Have a nice day.

-H