Ravemor
It was a cold night when he stepped out of his lair and gazed at the canyons below. The full moon was slowly rising, glowing red as the blood of his countless victims. Stars shone so vibrantly that everything as far as the horizon were illuminated by what should be a beautiful blue light. But tonight it was anything but beautiful. Just stepping into the light gave him an eerie feeling.
The perfect night for his next scavenge, as weary travelers searched for a cave to spend the night. Hikers loved these canyons, and that suited him well. It meant he didn't have to travel to the light of the city.
The moon rose higher, and as the light fell on him he felt his skin starting to prickle. He stepped back inside while he waited for the moon to reach its highest point.
When he thought the time was right, he stepped outside once more and saw that his intuition, as always, had not failed him. A faint campfire was flickering in the distance, on a ledge very similar to the one he was standing on, but on the other side of the canyon.
Knowing that the time had come, and that he was no one to clip the wings of fate, no matter what it may be, he closed his eyes and stepped into the beam of moonlight. He felt his skin starting to itch, an itch so intense he felt as if on fire. He felt his face stretch, his whole jaw becoming something monstrous, the searing pain in his mouth as he grew fangs.
When he opened his eyes they weren't brown anymore, but yellow, and his pupils were only thin slits to give him better night vision. His whole body was covered with a thick, coarse fur and his hands had turned to claws.
It was Ravemor, a werewolf like no other, who would kill without thinking to quench his crazed urge for blood, to obey his instinct, full moon after full moon, innocent people never to be found: ripped to pieces.
He soundlessly bounded down the slope so steep ordinary human beings could not possibly survive the climb. Halfway down there was a thin, worn out bridge that hikers were forbidden to use. He carelessly ran across and started to stalk the campers. He walked in a half circle, this way and that, making the arc smaller every time.
He came as near as he dared, and lay down under a bush to wait. Yes, he was going to wait, no matter how long it took, because waiting was the key in every hunting game. He was so near he could see every detail on their faces, but they didn't even know of his existence, yet alone that he was there. But they would start sensing his presence soon, and that is when the fun would begin.
Desiree was sitting beside the fire admiring the beauty of nature even after sunset, and Jeandre was making them something to eat when she smelled it, a foul odor filling the night skies. She was just about to mention it to Jeandre when it vanished as quickly as it had came. Soon it was forgotten and she returned to her stargazing. It wasn't long before the odor returned, this time so badly she became nauseous. And by the look on Jeandre's face, he smelled it to.
"What the...? This place is supposed to be clean, but it smells like a sewage tank that lay in the sun too long," Jeandre commented with a disgusted look on his face.
"I don't know. Maybe an animal died and now the wind is carrying the smell," Desiree suggested.
"Wind? What wind? This is the calmest night on our whole trip."
And with that he turned back to his cooking, meaning it was case closed, end of discussion. She knew him like that; he was like this since the day they met. He wasn't rude, it was just the way he was. She learned to live with it, since he was her best friend, and at least he was a lot of fun to make up for his terseness.
The next hour or so passed without any significant incidents, but then Desiree started feeling strange: her whole skin was covered in gooseflesh, and she suddenly felt a cold shiver passing up her spine. She had that awkward feeling of someone watching her, or rather, staring at her. She looked around, but didn't see anything suspicious and brushed it of as her imagination. She and Jeandre soon grew tired and each went off to their separate parts of the cave to get a good night's sleep.
Ravemor looked hungrily at the two kids, but decided to wait. It was no fun to kill until they expected it. And he knew the little party was going to grow bigger the following day, just a fun touch to the game....
The next day Desiree and Jeandre met two of their friends at another point. The walk to the next overnight spot was not as pleasant. It constantly felt as if someone, or something, was following them, and every time they stopped to rest the bushes softly rustled, even though the air was still, not a breeze to be felt. They finally arrived at the next cave they would overnight at, so they set up camp and started discussing whether or not they should return home the following day, since all was not normal. They agreed to leave first thing the next morning, so they decided to make their last night a night to remember. They had no idea what was in store for them....
Ravemor closely listened in on their conversation, knew that tonight was his only chance, and he saw that they were ready for the game to begin. He had given fear a place in their lives, and was going to insure that they died with fear locked up in — no — ruling their hearts.
Desiree couldn't shake her feeling of dread as they partied around the fire, or actually, Lewis and Christine partied around the fire. Jeandre was keeping his distance and she knew he felt it, too. She went over to him and just sat down beside him, not saying a word. They sat like that for a while, but then they noticed the shape moving through the bushes. It was a mutilated form, something half human and half wolf. They wanted to scream, but just then it jumped into the light of the fire and spoke in a harsh, inhuman voice. "Welcome to my forest. You are all part of my game. Two of you will go home safely, one will become my minion, and the other will die a most painful death when I quench my thirst with your blood. The rest of the game is your own. Do with it what you want. Now... RUN!" Ravemor shouted as he watched their poor faces being filled with fear. They started running, running like none of them had ever run before, running for their lives.
Desiree, Jeandre and Christine all ran in the same direction, but Lewis ran the opposite way. Desiree felt her heart sink to her shoes. Rules of the hunter and the hunted... always go for the weakest one of the pack, the loner. They heard his screams, and she knew he was done for.
They ran blindly through the night, not knowing where they were going or how far they had run. When they came to a big tree (it was too dark to see which kind) Jeandre helped Desiree into it, but Christine didn't want to climb. She was mad with panic and struggled when Jeandre tried to help her. Jeandre tried one last time, but when she resisted he gave up hope and climbed into the tree himself, hearing Ravemor approaching. Mad with panic, Christine fell to the floor and started begging. But begging didn't help at all... He ripped her heart out with his claws, and started devouring her flesh with his teeth, ripping it apart shred by shred. It felt like hours, but finally he was finished. He licked the bones clean and trotted off like a happy puppy.
Desiree and Jeandre went home, and never spoke of the incident again. The investigation didn't give any answers, and they didn't provide any. But they thought they would never go on a hiking trip, ever again.
Ravemor laughed as he watched the two kids running off. They thought they had escaped it all. But he hadn't told them the full truth. He killed Lewis as well, just a bit later to keep his meal fresh. And what they didn't know, was that they would be back soon. Very soon. Because those who escaped death were cursed, cursed forever more, to be werewolves and to live the same bloody life he is leading now....