The Condemned - T. Nott

Prologue

Dedicated to PseudoNymphadora

"I'll count. You three hide." Adonia instructed, in her usual bossy tone. As the oldest, she saw it as her right to tell the others what to do. Usually Nemi found this annoying, but since she didn't want to count anyway, she didn't argue.

It was a perfect time to play hide and seek in their eyes. It was getting dark, providing a perfect cover, while the full moon and stars gave just enough light to see by.

"One... two... three...." Adonia placed her hands over her eyes as she started to count. Pearce and Marlas ran one way, while Nemi ran towards the harbor. There were plenty of good hiding places there, and in the dark she felt confident that Adonia would not be able to find her easily.

"Thirteen.... fourteen... fifteen..." Nemi crawled under the dock, her feet splashing in the water. "Nineteen... twenty..." Peering out, she could just see her sister, glancing around. And, what was that? Halfway between the shore and the houses, to the left, Nemi could see something prowling across the sand, its eyes fixed on something Nemi could not see. It looked like a large dog. Always an animal lover, Nemi could not resist leaving the game in the hope of befriending another dog. Scrambling out, she made her way carefully towards the animal, not wanting to scare it away.

"Hello. Wh-" as soon as she started to speak the animal turned, and Nemi realized that this was no dog. It looked more like a wolf, but something was off. Fear began worming its way through her. Nemi tried to turn away but before she could take a step the beast lunged.

There was no time for her to run, or try to defend herself. The werewolf was upon her within seconds, its long teeth tearing into the little girl's flesh. Nemi screamed and screamed, flailing desperately. But she was too small, and was rapidly loosing blood. Gradually her struggles lessoned. The last thing she was aware of before loosing consciousness was a gunshot.

Basil had been enjoying a quiet evening alone on his front porch. He'd had a long day out on the waters, and had little to show for it. He was stressed and hoping to go to bed soon, but knew that wasn't happening as soon as he heard the screaming. It as not the usual shrieks he often heard from the neighbors' kids as they played their silly games, but came from someone in pain and afraid. Quickly, Basil grabbed his shotgun and ran towards the shore.

He soon came across the scene. A young girl, no more than seven, struggling feebly, but she had lost a lot of blood and was growing steadily weaker. Attacking her was what was to Basil's eyes, a wolf. It was strange behavior in his experience, but there was hardly time to think about that. He fired, but the shot was hurried and he missed. However, it caused the wolf to stop tearing into the girl briefly, and turn to him. This time, Basil's shot hit it right between the eyes.