The darkness hid them. Hunters in the night, beasts that yearned with a primal hunger and claws that yearned for wear and tear on bone and sinew. Creatures that were once human, warped by something they themselves created, forever to live out as a predator for the rest of their lives.
Sniff, sniff, growl.
Blood was in the air, they could feel it. The very scent tore at their heartstrings, marionettes being thrown against the wall by a cruel child. It called out to them, the simplistic awareness of it. Such a savory victual, raw flesh and gore.
The humans, so foolish. Cities left unguarded, they never fully prepared for a strike. To think, the fifth millenia, and humans still hadn’t developed a constant sense of paranoia when it was needed.
Eyes darted back and forth. Growls, whimpers made, pack members preparing for the hit, their very muscles and tendons ready for the massacre to be unleashed by their hands.
”Not yet, fool. There is always one dumb enough to wander out here in the middle of the night.” A furred fist punched the back of one of the wolves, resulting in a whimper and a slight growl. “We seek to move with fear in their eyes, and these idiots always lose their morale when one falls.”
Teeth were bared, and immediately concealed. The alpha’s glare was enough to shake any creature, human, wolf, or both combined. He shook his head in disappointment at the wolf, and stared back out at the settlement.
“You remember what we are to do, right, beast? We tear all but one to shreds, and we leave him unharmed. Aside from this…” his lips parted as he paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “They’re yours to play with.”
They all smiled their wicked, tooth-filled grins, saliva dripping off bared canines. Tonight was a feast, a celebration of their superiority, and the festive color tonight was red, crimson red.
Time passed by, hour after hour. Prey swarmed back and forth, tempting the hunters with a variety of savory scents. There were dozens of ignorant wolves who nearly jumped out to feed, their primal urges leading their bodies out; there were also many resulting injuries and wounds created in response to such stupidity.
Alpha was looking for the perfect moment- on where his terror would create the most panic among his subject. A mistake would be costly- escaped individuals, more wounds to his pack, and possibly failure.
His ear twitched in response to that word: failure. There had been one failure in his lifetime, and that had proven to be far more than what he paid for it.
Sixteen years ago, sixteen long, arduous years ago, times were different. He was younger, faster, and most importantly to him, stupider. Far, far dumber than he was today.
The visage of failure, of not only the pains and wounds, but the humiliation suffered from all among the Nation of Lupines, was etched into his skull and skin. It burned deep, building a rage known to none other in the clans.
He vowed never to let it happen again. The devastation to his spirit he would never allow to happen to his packmates as well- such is why he was so rough with them. They, fierce and prime, lacked the iron will he possessed, and would fall to their deaths like lambs to the slaughter.
Some days he wondered if his path to Alpha was spawned through his desire to protect those weaker. A fatherly instinct inbred from facing such adversity. To werewolves, the Alphas were more than leaders, they were fathers and mentors as well; his drive had not only given him the title of Alpha, but the nickname Alphus itself: Alphus Alpha. A name he was proud to bear openly.
He smirked, and such pride in his own abilities had given him a glimpse at the perfect opportunity. The perfect time had arrived. The Feral Dance of Crimson was about to begin.
His smile gleamed brightly in the moonlight. For it was time to dine and rend that which was dreamed by them all to rend.