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Part FIVE: Suspicion

Sverrir licked his paws clean and stood up full of pride. He kicked the slumped over body of Gunnar before walking over to the furnace. He placed in a poker and walked back to his chair, leaning against, tail wagging. He cocked his head waiting. Gunnar’s glowing body was undergoing change. The curse of the werewolf is powerful magic, and cannot be undone. Sverrir was very patient and would not let is prey go, nor let this ritual go unfinished. He waited for hours, until nearly the last hour of the day it began.

A faint little greenish gray flaming orb left Gunnar’s open mouth, hovering above him before departing through the window. The room began to heat up and a howling noise penetrated through the ether. Gunnar’s skin seemed to be making a sizzling and popping noise. He gasped his first breath as the pain had awoken him. It was almost as his body was being controlled like a marionette, convulsing and arching, writhing in agony. His arms had dislocated from his shoulders and grew out the length of a forearm. The bulged, bloated, and made room for muscles, filling in the void, stretching his skin. His wrists broke in several places to reshape into that of a wolf, his hands no longer resembling human. Gunnar’s legs followed suit with popping so loud it was like all of his bones were being broken at once. Skin stretched so hard it tore, steaming and misting blood all over, reshaping and healing to the new body he would have. His groin swelled up and stretched, reshaping and bulging outward near the base. He was fully erect. A new enveloping skin fold opened up and formed around the base. Gunnar was howling and screaming at the same time, soon turning into a snarling animalistic sound. His face felt like it was being split wide open and stretched forward, his cheekbones breaking. A snout formed with two wet fleshy pads, oozing and dripping.

Sverrir from nearby was extremely aroused as he watched, drooling, shifting back and forth from human to werewolf, fondling himself. Gunnar’s mouth was still open from when he had collapsed. Long curved blinding white porcelain fangs jetted out of his gums, pushing out all of his human teeth, one by one. Tears rolled down his now canine eyes. The sounds that came from him were a mixture of an injured animal and a crying human, and that of someone screaming in agony and a defensive feral creature. Gunnar’s eyes had faded completely to white. He started to stand up, mumbling unrecognizable words, unable to speak with his new body. He fell backwards, knocking over an entire table. Sverrir looked pleased and laughed again. He regained strength and started to stand up. Big wolf like ears stretched upwards as a blanket of dark fur started to grow all over him. His back popped and stretched. Gunnar grew another two feet tall. His claws grew out each finger and he looked blankly, soullessly into the void, drooling, and dripping on the floor. He was panting, and his new formed body was still steaming from the transformation. Sverrir stood proudly, boasting to the gods what he had made. “Behold! A new brother joins us! Awooooooooo!” That primal call made Gunnar go wild, he looked up and made a similar guttural call. When he finished his eyes were dull and golden, just like all wolves he had seen. He looked at Sverrir and then down at himself, exploring every part that had changed.

“Yes boy, feel yourself, feel your own might and power. You are a god now!” He walked closer and ruffled his chin fur, smirking. “As I’ve said before, I have so much to teach you. We can repopulate and wipe off the filth on this island. We the strong shall conquer all.” Gunnar had never felt such strength in him before. He felt powerful, and like he could win all the battles he wanted to in the past, and it made him aroused. Yet, he felt uneasy. A little part of humanity may have still survived inside him and he questioned his maker. “What if I don’t want to. You just said you’d give me eternal life. In fact, you tricked me. You forced me!” He snarled and attacked Sverrir with a fell swoop, knocking him to the ground, pinning him down with his head in his jaws.

“You dare question me boy?!” Sverrir was much older than Gunnar and much stronger. He flung him across the room, and into a wall, cracking it. Gunnar’s strength was almost immediately sapped. The blacksmith walked over to the iron he had placed into the furnace and picked it up. It was now red hot. “We will see how you are after I’m finished. I knew you might resist, you disappoint me already, you wet puppy?! Especially after I’ve given you this gift?!” He walked towards him quickly, unsheathing his knife. “How could a gift be so painful!” “The spoils of war do not go without blood, sweat, and tears. Even women have to experience pain giving birth to filthy pups like you!” “How can this be a gift it feels like a curse!” Gunnar showed his fangs and lunged at Sverrir. He plunged his knife into his left shoulder. Gunnar yelped out loudly, angrily looking at his maker. “If you will not obey me I will make you obey, boy.” He broke off his necklace and removed the talisman, placing it deep into the freshly made wound. He spoke a spell and seared it shut with the red hot iron. “Kneel!”

“What did you d…” Gunnar felt himself become faint again, as if he was poisoned. “I said kneel!” “Yessss…Sir.” Gunnar lowered himself in front of Sverrir in obedience. “Good pup.” Gunnar remained in that position until he was finished being scolded. “What I just placed in you, controls you now. You can no longer harm me, nor shift back into human form unless commanded to.” Gunnar sneered through his teeth, trying his hardest to break free from Sverrir’s force, but only more pain was inflicted. “Oh well it seems you enjoy pain then.” Sverrir laughed. “Oh the joys you bring me, I’m sure I will make a real manwolf out of you, in fact, I’m sure you will become my finest demon.” He beckoned for him to stand up and retrieve his sword and unsheathe it. “Speak these words boy, and mean it!” Gunnar obeyed as he heard the magical draconian tongue he grew up learning. It was an oath to the gods, an oath that is only paid in blood. He held his master’s sword up high as if it was to be imbued by the power of moonlight and thunder. “Good my pup.

Now let me tell you a little bit about something we are about to do. These people we live with are motivated by only one thing, fear. They are constantly trying to build a new world and fail at it. They do not unite and are weak. The beasts of the field are doing a much better job than they are. So what are we going to do?” He paused for a moment and walked over to Gunnar, wrapping his arm around him and licking his cheek. “We are going to play a little game. We are going to hunt down something, or someone if I feel like it.” He stepped back and snapped his fingers releasing Gunnar of his standing and raised pose. “Tonight will be the night you learn how to hide, and how to stay hidden from sight. You will learn when you need to become your wolf form, and who to go after. Most importantly, I will tell you who you shall change so our lineage stays strong.”

The sun had long set and the home hearths were lit. Outside the fires were becoming extinguished. “Now is our chance to run, in the shadows. Our fur disguises us well! We need not worry.” His devilish toothy grin crept across his face and he threw the door open. “Come!” Gunnar followed him swiftly, but clumsily, it was as if he was learning to run all over again. But soon that primal instinct kicked in and he let it take over. The beasts snuck around the town and into the tall grasses that led to the forest. Sverrir turned around and stared back, watching carefully, growling, breathing heavier now. He howled loudly until he saw all the fires extinguished. “Hahahahaha! You see! A little fear does remarkable things!” Gunnar continued to hide himself, prowling through the grasses, it was as if he was invisible when he noticed the other creatures didn’t even see him. “Remember boy, be silent, and you’ll remain deadly by attacking first. Never reveal your true self to anyone, for any reason. If they escape, you’ll be done for. This is why you always go for the weakest, the slowest, the ones that trust others too much.” He turned his head to the left, "up there is the hunting grounds. I will show you how I find my meals.”

They approached a lost sheep bleating and trembling. Gunnar watched as Sverrir approached from behind and stood up and slashed it down, it’s wool now stained. “See how easy it is?” He started slashing at it more, mutilating it. Gunnar howled out, why are you doing this? When I’ve hunted it is always supposed to be clean and respectful!” “Respectful?!” Sverrir leapt at Gunnar and pinned him down. “Respectful?! Boy you are the god of all creatures on this island! You need no longer to fear! If anything it is them who should be worshiping you! They are below you and they serve you now. Anything is yours for the taking!” He removed himself after snarling for a bit and stood up. “Besides, we still need to create fear. If the gods do it and still get worshiped so will we. Only we show different sides when approached respectfully. Those who come to us willingly, are deserving of our blessed curse.” Gunnar listened with intent. The thought of being worshiped was odd to him, and wasn’t even a thought in his mind. It wasn’t something that satisfied him. This brute forceful strength was even disturbing enough. That type of primal destruction made him sick. He was shivering, and he knew that Sverrir could see it. “Oh the first time is always the worst, but it gets easier with each one you take. Come on now, we can go after some of the cattle, they are stupid enough. Think of it as just making a feast for everyone.”

Gunnar continued to stare at the now dead sheep, it’s eyes frozen in a fearful stare. “I said come,” he growled. It was as if an invisible yoke was placed around his neck and pulled him forward. They returned back to town, and into the pen. “Watch.” Sverrir grabbed one of the cattle-beast and snapped it’s neck without hesitating. It fell to the ground dead immediately. "You will do the same.” The trembling wolf refused. “I said do it right now! Or I will make you bite it’s neck!” Gunnar still refused, starting to walk backwards. Sverrir growled deep within his chest, his claws growing sharper and longer. He swiped at his pup and left claw marks. It stung greatly. “Obey your master now!” The new werewolf was cowering on the ground and grasping at his face. “Your wounds will heal without scaring dear pup. You are a god after all, now act like one.” He sneered and began to control Gunnar. He rose up and walked slowly towards a cattle-beast in the center of the pen, all others had started to bray and stay on the edges of the pen. Gunnar was constantly fighting his control, popping in and out of consciousness. The pain was so great. His maw opened up and clamped down on the back of it’s neck, but Gunnar had enough inner strength to stop his fangs from puncturing. Saliva was dripping all over the animal, and on the ground. “Pathetic. You still fight me. But I am impressed by your strength, I will give you that. I will mold you into something better.”

“I am not yours to forcefully change. I will do it of my own volition. Am I not a god after all?” Gunnar removed himself from the cattle-beast and stood up proudly, his face now healing. He growled loudly and barked back. “You will not control me nor my actions!” Gunnar found it within himself to turn back into human form. “You fool, I’m not done with you yet! You made your oath, do not break it now!” Pain seared through his body yet again, and it stopped him from shifting back momentarily. “You don’t want me controlling you? Well you will pay for that disobedience! Sverrir slaughtered the cattle and changed his voice to his human one. “A beast is loose! A beast is loose! He’s killed the cattle!” He looked back at his creation and sternly spoke. “You’ve pissed me off boy. Let’s see if you can survive tonight. And if you do, oh…I will always be watching you. I will make you obey, and I will shape you without you even knowing it. I will never forget what you’ve did. Now, try not to die. It would be a shame since I really do enjoy fucking you.” He laughed as he disappeared into the shadows and into his house.

Gunnar was still in his beast form and there was blood everywhere, all over him. He could hear the town waking up, and shouting in anger and horror. The strongest men are going to kill me! He thought to himself. He composed himself and bolted around each house, hiding, listening, waiting for the exact moment to move on. People were running out their doors screaming and lighting their torches. The shadows were vanishing and he had to be swift. Sverrir’s glowing eyes could be seen in his shop’s window. “That toothy bastard.” He kept calm and snuck outside the town quietly. It seemed everyone was focused on the carnage in the pen. He didn’t stay around long enough to find out what they were saying. It was time to hide, and it had to be now. He found himself at an old rowan tree and hid amongst the foliage. There were drops of blood, fresh from some scratches he had endured. They fell on the leaves, but somehow never managed to reach the ground.

The gods must be nearby keeping watch. The sky darkened as clouds rolled in smothering its canvas. At least now he had some extra security. In his new form, taxing his energy, he began to drift back to sleep, feeling smaller and lighter. Gunnar’s body changed amongst the tree. The townsfolk were rushing all around, searching for where the monster could be. The armor rattled and he could hear their angry banter. Gunnar feared his heavy breathing, somewhat growling panting would alert them, but no. Conveniently the tree, had protected him. The leaves and branches perfectly surrounded him. He lied still and no one stopped to look. They walked right past the rowan tree. So it was true, the stories were true he heard growing up protected gods and many other heroes. Gunnar finally collapsed under stress and exhaustion.

The night went into it’s later hours and the townsfolk returned to their slumber, leaving two to guard the main entrance, and three at the seaport gate. Sverrir’s gaze was still fixed, but only now wary of his new creation. He hadn’t seen someone be able to shift back on their own will, especially with the talismans he placed. It angered him more to know he was losing control, but he was still always thinking ahead. He scurried away to the darker parts of his smithy and retired for the evening.

*****

Gunnar was awoken by a loud blow of a horn. “An announcement is to be made! Gather at the great hall for an announcement by town leader Hrolf. Everyone must attend!” A second blow of the horn was made and even higher shilled pitch echoed out. Now he had a massive headache and his body ached like he did after unloading a ship full of goods. He grabbed at his forehead and almost fell out of the tree, only catching himself on the lower branches before he touched the ground. But he noticed something. Cold prickly air, calm brisk breeze, why did he feel so light? He was completely naked. Well, almost naked as his clothes were torn to shreds and lightly clung to his body. There was just enough left to make an undergarment, enough to cover his nether regions and bare ass. Luckily he wasn’t too far from his own home, but getting there might be tricky with the announcement freshly made and others coming out of their homes. He had to make a dash for it before everyone was to be out. But all the other men were basically naked when toiling in the fields and unloading ships, why should I worry now? He was always wanting to seem proper and polite, and didn’t want to give a bad impression, or even the wrong impression for that matter. Gunnar dashed quickly to his house, but as he approached his door town leader Hrolf came around the corner.

"Dear boy what happened to you?” Gunnar remained frozen, unable to speak. As he finally prepared to open his mouth with the first thing that popped in to his head he was cut off. Hrolf held up his hand and pointed his finger. “No need. You were out late weren’t you? Working for our blacksmith. He got you into a drinking game didn’t he?” He laughed and put his arm around his shoulders. “You must of had a lot if you were that passed out. You slept through an attack last night!” Gunnar bit his tongue his heart racing. “Yes a monster is out there slaughtering our cattle, and some our townsfolk too! Be glad you weren’t hurt, thank the gods you were protected last night.” Hrolf continued to stare at Gunnar concerningly, but he felt otherwise, like a primal energy making his spine tingle. All he could blurt out was a simple “Yes sir.” “Very good son. I like to look out after everyone here, and you especially have been showing a lot of promise.” “Thank you sir, I don’t know what to say. I just remember waking up, almost naked and then hearing the horn.” Hrolf chuckled and leaned in. Gunnar swore he could hear him sniff. “A bit of word of advice, do be careful. You smell like you had a long roll in the hay. Whom ever you fucked last night took a ringer on you. You make yourself more visible to beasts, they know the scent of people in heat.” That moment of silence was frightening, and Gunnar couldn’t discern what he meant by that; was he aware of all the events, or assuming things? Hrolf smiled and laughed heartily. “Don’t take my jokes too seriously! Just a little bit of old wisdom from out and about. Now off you go, splash on some water, put on some clothes, and come to the announcement!” Hrolf walked away at a steady pace to the west towards the great hall.

Gunnar quickly opened and the door and went in. Frantically he walked over to the well inside his house and drew a pail and dumped it over himself. The ice cold sensation made him gasp for air and helped ground himself. I survived that. I survived. He repeated to himself again, “I survived that, and I am going to continue to survive. I will fight this, and I will be victorious.” Gunnar drew another pail and slowly dumped it over himself. His ears seemed to be deeply focused on the water trickling down his body, rippling like a brook during the passing of seasons. He wished he had more time to meticulously take care of himself, but he took those few moments to calm down and breathe. He rubbed some pine needles over his body and dried off, quickly grabbing his comb and darting out the door. He still had just enough time to get out the knots and broken ends before attending the announcement. Standards were quite high for appearances and it was mentally exhausting at some times. He stopped by another well and looked at his reflection. “Well I have certainly seen better days.” His eyes were dark and fatigued. He picked his teeth clean and finished with his beard, smoothing and fluffing it up. As he approached the great hall he could feel everyone’s intimidation and concern. It tingled up and down his entire body, and it made him feel sick. He did what he could to survive so far, he knew how to blend in.

Less people started trickling into the great hall and the horns were blown again. The chattering amongst everyone simmered down and Hrolf spoke loudly. “Hear ye people of our great land. We have a dangerous monster in our midst!” Chattering began to pick up again, simmering to whispers. “Quiet! I have vital news for you!” Everyone seemed to become instantly frozen in fear, like the leader of a pack of wolves commanding obedience. “Several of our own people have gone missing. Alvar, Hjortur, Dis, Una and Katla. We have even been unable to relocate their bodies intact. We’ve only found pieces, as if a huge beast has been devouring them, picking them off one by one. This beast, if you may call it that, leaves pieces to lure us back out, or at least someone weaker than their previously chosen prey.” The sound in the room exploded into rowdiness. Answers were being demanded.

Hrolf kept his composure but loudly shouted for silence again, drawing out his sword. “This beast poses an even bigger threat to our livelihood. Not only have the animals we hunt have been driven out much further away from their grazing grounds in fear of this beast, but this beast has been scaring some of our own seasoned hunters so much that they fear going out to get food for us all.” He took a moment to look around the hall and sternly spoke staring at Gunnar, “Our hunts have been unsuccessful. Each time we had gone out we came back empty handed. And sometimes, with some of us wounded.” A voice came from the front of the hall, “What are you saying? That we, we of all people are being hunted?!” “We are.” The entire hall erupted into dissonant chatter. “Which is why I need some of us to step up and help fight off this terror!” “Why should we now?” “Why not now? Now is the perfect time to rid of this evil. It will be too late if we don’t deal with it now. I’ve already chosen some select candidates.” “How long has this been going on?” Hrolf paused for a moment and looked up, seeing the moon peaking through the thatch-work. “We’ve known for about a fortnight.” The great hall became even louder. “Listen, there are just some things you don’t get privy to know. We had to make sure that it was an actual threat and not people losing their minds.” He scowled and grit his teeth. “We already know what comes out of the mouths of those full of mead, and this is not one of them. It’s much worse.”

Hrolf roused those that had gathered in the hall closest to him and began to speak even louder. For a brief moment Gunnar thought that he lost focus, but Hrolf’s eyes were fixated on him, and it made him very uneasy. He felt a sense of danger creeping up along his spine. His heart was racing and he knew he had to calm himself. Gunnar felt like his teeth and nails were sharpening. So he spoke up loudly, barking out a few mere words. “I’ll join your cause.” Everyone turned their heads at the fierceness that came out of him. It was silent for an eerily amount of time, but everyone soon began talking again. “Was that Gunnar?” “I’ve never heard him raise his voice!” Hrolf smiled and boastfully welcomed him to come to the front, resting his arm around Gunnar’s shoulders. “You see?” He pointed at Gunnar. “This is the fierceness and boldness we all should strive for! This act of fearlessness is what we all should have inside! What happened to us as a tribe?” The hall was now clamoring with raucous cheering. The vast majority seemed to be in agreement. He turned to Gunnar and whispered, “So, my strong brother, let us see who we can gather up. I fear this evil may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I suggest we choose carefully.” He turned back to the gathering and shouted out loudly laughing and raising his fist. Gunnar felt a rippling within his chest; the tingling sensation only made him feel even more nervous. He did what he could to hide it behind a complacent look. A familiar scent was flowing into the room and Gunnar thought he could tell that Hrolf was picking up on it. His nostrils seemed to be flaring, but perhaps he was mistaken. He felt an unwavering sense of dread again. His heart pounded and he could swear another set of eyes were watching him. “Brother,” Hrolf spoke, “let’s not wait any longer. The god of the hunt will be with us. Let’s slay this beast now.”