{"sf1_id":775086,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Releasing the Beast","author":"StGeorgesHorse","words":2177,"posted_at":"2014-10-29T14:07:00.000Z","tags":["Destruction","Feral","Human","Rage","Trouble","Werewolf","anger","russia","silver"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/775086-releasing-the-beast","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/775086","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=775086\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"#58 of The Moonrise Chronicles","content":"                The\ninitial explosion blew of the windows in the place, and the noise of it was\nlike no other anyone in St Petersburg could have imagined.  I was later put down as being a terrorist attack,\nthough no group came forward to claim it. Witnesses who had been in the bar\nmade clear statements that two men opened fire on two of the patrons, who were\npresumed dead in the destruction. But that just wasn't true.\n                What\nhad happened was much worse. An explosion limited to a single building would\nhave been a sloitary incident. This became a chain of events. And it started\nwith a single silver bullet penetrating the skull of one Edward Peterson. He\nhad just slipped his ring onto Maggie's hand with the gun fire began. While he\nwas struck with multiple bullets, only one lodged somewhere where it could\ncause the most destruction. His brain.\n                Hypothetically\nspeaking, it should have killed him instantly, as should the hail of bullets\nhis body was riddled with. It did not. Maggie was too distracted to notice his\nbody wasn't burning. In her mind, slipping his ring back on had prevented that.\nBut it wasn't as simple as that. There was something more and it was going to\nprove to be terrible.\n                The\nexplosion that occurred under Maggie was not an explosion in a chemical sense,\nbut a release of feral rage. Edward, or what was left of him turned into a\nfurious, hate-consumed beast. In a single instant the force of his\ntransformation, complete with an auditory-overloading roar, might very well have\nbeen the blast of a improvised bomb.\n                He tore\nthrough the flames and debris like it was spider webs and sunshine. He didn't\nknow why, and he didn't care why. He was in pain, and his head felt like it was\nready ti implode. He clawed at it and roared, unable to focus on anything at\nthe moment. He finally felt his fur on fire and tore out into the night.\n                The stone casing of the already shattered window wasn't wide enough to take his bulk and the masonry gave\nway like it was compacted powder. Chunks were sent spiraling across the way to\nthud against the buildings on the opposite side of the street. People dashed\nfor cover as his imposing form crashed into the street.\n                He\nstopped to sniff the night air, and turning towards the river, disappeared into\nthe half-lit darkness, overturning cars and tearing down power lines as he\nwent. The air was filled with blaring horns and rending metal.\n                Maggie\ncaught none of it. Her ears had been in a heightened state when it all went\ndown, and they were trying to recover, but her systems were working on the\ncritical parts first. Glass shards were painfully evicted from her muscles and\nskin, and flattened bullets were ejected onto the pavement. And it was the\npavement around the corner from where he vacated the bar. By the time she\nrecovered, the place was engulfed in flames. \n                All she\nhad now was her shredded clothing and her purse. She had no idea if Edward was\nalive or dead, and she'd knew that sticking around was going to be bad. Someone\nmight recognize her, and with her clothing shredded and her skin now intact, that\nwould bring down a lot of questions she wasn't prepared to answer in any language.\nShe was on the rooftops and making her way back to the church in record time.  She was very glad she left a window open, and\nusing her ability to morph, became a horrific caricature of a human being and oozed through the opening.\n                She\nstripped out of the remnants of the dress and morphed into her darkest look.\nThat smell she had sense in the bar was wolfbane, and she rather figured the\nbullets had been coated in it. They meant business, whoever they were, but no\nKGB agent would ever be equipped in such a manner. Only someone hunting\nwerewolves knew the tricks of the trade. But what she didn't get was why this\nguy would take a hit out on people who might just as easily be on his side.\n                There\nwas only one way to find out.\n                She\nfound the priest sitting in an office listening to the mayhem on a police\nradio. She moved stealthily, and only once did she make a noise. He turned, but\nthere was nothing there. He only realized is danger when a drop of saliva fell\nfrom the ceiling and landed on his sparsely covered pate. He looked up to see a pair\nof red eyes. The next instant they were directly in front of his. Claws were\naround his throat.\n                A\ntongue came out and licked him. She did it again and again until he shivered\nand wet himself.\n                \"So\nFather, have you said your prayers?\"\n                \"Forgive\nme, pppppplease forgive me!\"\n                \"Do I\nlook like your god? I do not forgive when I have no reason to forgive. My\nfather is dead because of you. And I just went through enough pain to make it\nworthwhile to strip off your skin a millimeter at a time until you die from\nblood loss. I haven't tasted flesh in a while, and maybe it's time again to\nstart back on my old diet.\"\n                \"Dead?\nThen what is this beast they speak of on the radio?\"\n                A pair\nof claws clamped across his carotid arteries. \"What the fuck are you talking\nabout?\"\n                \"Here,\non the radio. The police are looking for some sort of beast that destroyed the\nbar.\"\n                Her\neyes lost their red glow. She listened to the chatter, which was a cacophony of\nbabble in Russian that was hard to keep clear in her head. She wasn't that good\nat the language. But the old man was correct; among everything else being\nbantered about, there had been talk of a sighting of some huge beast. But\nmostly, there were treating this as a terrorist attack.\n                \"Father,\nand I use that term loosely for you are not worthy of it; it seems you may get\nto live a little while longer. But understand, that each minute of your life\ndepends on you telling me the truth, and by truth, I do not mean your precious\ndogma, but facts; cold hard facts.\"\n                \"What\ndo you want to know?\" He was whimpering like a chastened puppy.\n                \"Why\ndid you try to kill us?\"\n                \"I did\nnot. They went beyond their orders. They were supposed to follow you and keep\ntabs on you. I don't know why the fools opened fire.\"\n                \"Oh,\nand like they weren't talking to you on the telephone?\"\n                He\nstopped shaking. \"I don't talk to them through the telephone, not ever. We talk\nin the confessional so no one overhears us. I don't have a telephone except for\nthis one,\" he said, pointing to the old black rotary dial unit on his desk,\n\"and I figure the government has it bugged so I only use it for church\ncommunications.\"\n                She could\ntell he wasn't lying. But that made her angrier than before. If it wasn't this\nguy, then who were the men talking too? She had hoped to gain some retribution\nfor her father's death, and now it appeared he was still alive. And it also\nappeared that this sniveling black-clad dupe was just a stupid tool. Whatever\npower he thought he had was only granted him from someone higher up. There\nwould be no advantage to killing him this day.\n                \"Look.\nI will be leaving here, and whether or not I do so with your skin intact will rely\non what you tell me. What do you know of werewolves?\"\n                \"Nothing.\"\nWhen her claws came out he screamed. \"No, no; really! I thought it was some\nstupid legend. Everyone makes movies about them. I never thought they were\nreal!\"\n                \"Then\nwhy did your men have silver bullets dipped in wolfbane?\"\n                \"What?\"\n                She\nsighed internally but growled audibly. \"You are either very stupid or; never\nmind, I think that you're just stupid. Your men; they knew what they were\ndoing. That means that they worked for Cardinal Medici. You where probably told\na different story to keep the truth from falling in the wrong hands.\"\n                \"Cardinal\nMedici...\" The man started quaking again.\n                \"He's\ndead, so don't worry your head about him. We took him down in France, and left\nnothing but a smoking pile of ashes for the Earth to swallow back up.\"\n                The\nman's pupils dilated. \"You killed him? But that is impossible! No one can kill\nhim!\"\n                \"No one? Well, it did take four of us, but\nwe got the job done. Now, if you know any more about him, I suggest you spill\nyour guts before I do it for you!\" Her patience, already fragile, was wearing\neggshell thin. \n                He\nslumped back, visibly shaken and almost relieved. \"I don't know if I believe\nyou or not, but by your form alone I think that I will. He has blasted this\nchurch for decades, making us search for some bauble or another for his collection.\"\n                \"I am\naware of his collection. It now has been made open to the pope, and he is sifting\nthrough almost everything in it.\"\n                \"Almost\neverything?\"\n                She\nheld up a paw. \"I have a few souvenirs. What do you know of these rings?\"\n                He stared\nmore at the claws than the at the ring. \"Nothing! He was looking for boxes.\"\n                She\nwatched his eyes shift to the wall and back.\n                \"And\nyou found one but didn't tell him about it, didn't you?\"\n                \"Yes.\"\n                \"Show\nme.\"\n                She\ndropped him like a sack of potatoes. His knees gave out and he had to recover\nhimself before walking over to the wall. There, to one side was a secret panel\nin the old wood. He reached in and pulled out a perfect example of Leonardo's\nbox.\n                \"This\nwas what he was looking for.\"\n                Indeed\nit was. But there was a problem. The box was already open, but the bottom\nportion remained closed. And she had no key with her. \"Where did you find\nthis?\"\n                He\nlooked both abashed and frightened at the same time. \"From the off-display\ncollection at the Hermitage. It was unidentified with any number, and had a\ncard listing only as coming from the Winter Palace. What is it for?\"\n                \"It's\nfor holding a ring. But as you can see, the ring is gone.\" Of course she wasn't\nconvinced of that, but why tell him any more than he needed to know? If she let\nhim live, and someone else came along, and he said that there was no ring in\nthe box, then maybe that would be the end of things. Of course, whoever else\nwas after the rings would probably kill the poor fellow, but his death wouldn't\nbe on her conscience. \n                \"I\ndon't understand. That ring looks like a street vendor's trinket.\"\n                \"Looks\ncan be deceiving my pasty friend. It's not in its appearance that it has\nvalue.\" She turned to leave.\n                \"What\nare you going to do now?\"\n                The\nwerewolf form diminished until a nude girl was standing there in front of him.\n\"I'm leaving. I have to find my father before he does something stupid. Right now\nI think he could take on the entire Russian army and come away unscathed.\nWhatever those men did to him, it was a mistake I think. I need to find him and\nhelp him before he goes totally off the deep end.\" As it was, she knew that\nbecoming a mindless beast had been one of his worse fears. And she could still visualize\nthe hole in his forehead where the bullet had entered. He might have been\nbetter off dead from that wound. So might the entire city. Only time would\ntell.\n                She got\ndressed, gathered up a few things and left the rest behind. \"I expect to find\nthis stuff here when I get back.\"\n                \"Are\nyou coming back?\"\n                \"That\nremains to be seen. But I think they've unleashed one hell of a demon this\nnight and it won't go back quietly. I'm beginning to see his point of view. His\nlife was much easier before he met me.\" She slung a bag over her shoulder and\nwalked a few blocks over before heading towards the palace. She didn't know how\nwidespread the police were in cordoning off the damaged area, and wishing to\navoid them, finally took to the rooftops again. She made it to the palace,\nenhanced her nose and set off on his trail. It wasn't difficult. His smell was\nan angry mix of ammonia, pheromones and acrid hate. "}