Bloodied claws by Marc962 (free novels to read txt) 📕

Bloodied Claws
By Marcus Adams
Chapter one: The curse of the gifted
The last strand of light of the red and orange sunset struck down on the forest, night coming to take its place. The large wild forest was green and luscious, the canopy reaching for the sky and the leaves allowing bits of the beautiful sunlight to sift through the trees. A clearing of fresh grass sat soaking in the last bits of light, the sun beating down on the green grass. In the clearing sat a large buck grazing from the grass, its brown hide seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Its’ antlers were large and tangled in an intricate design, it resembled an elegant spider’s web.
Slowly the smell of the beast wafted into the bushes to the right of the field, and into Jacob’s nostrils, who sat crouched underneath a large bush just a few yards away from the elegant buck. Slowly Jacob got into a good position on all fours to begin the chase, careful not to snap any of the small wooden twigs that littered the grass just under the bush where he lay hidden. As he did so, the buck’s ears and head snapped up, scanning its surroundings for any predators with its large calf brown eyes. But Jacob wasn't worried, he had years of experience and his so called 'gift' on his side. His caramel-colored skin was the color of the earth that lay beneath him, silently crunching between his toes and bare feet. He rippled with muscles all over his body, elegantly shaped under his smooth caramel-colored skin, he even had a rippling eight pack on his abdomen. He was a bit short for his supposed human age, most used to mistake him to be 18 or even 17 years old. His eyes were slit narrowly like a wolf's, their color a simple light ocean-blue like the shallows of the clean or a clear lake. His only give-away was his hair, short and midnight black, poking up in a dozen thick spikes on his scalp, resembling several black horns. Slowly the buck began to trot away, sensing something was wrong. Jacob knew it was now or never if he wanted dinner, and his wolfish grin worked its way across his face. Slowly he prepared to charge the buck, and sprung out from the bushes, the leaves and small branches rustling violently. Jacob had already began the change, confident that he could catch the beast. But the buck was turning around already, at a light trot and picking up speed, Jacob right behind it. Soon the two were rushing through the thick woods, the clearing already gone from sight, and Jacob now a brown timber wolf. He was the size of a large bear. His fangs long and sharp in his maw, ready to eat. His claws on his paws now once again stained a bloody red. Jacob. Jacob still remembered how he had gotten his 'gift'. He even remembered what creatures like him were called.
Jacob was a werewolf. Jacob had never asked for this curse, no matter how many 'perks' came with it. He was nearly indestructible. He didn't age as fast as humans. He had superhuman senses. But he didn't care, he would rather be dead. He was not only a werewolf, he was a murderer. It was why he lived in solitude, alone in the forests. So that he could pay for the lives he had taken. Every night he had nightmares about their screams. Sometimes he considered giving himself up to the vampires, at least if he did he would finally be free of his soul-crushing guilt. The vampires and werewolves had been at war for as long as man had existed. The two different species were not that different, they could both live for thousands of years, they both had superhuman senses and they even passed their gifts the same ways. the gift flows through bloodlines or if one of the two were to bite a human and the human survive. And along with the power came the knowledge and information that belonged to the werewolf or vampire. There were several different types of vampires and werewolves. And then there were bounty hunters, the most corrupt and numerous of all the so called 'gifted'. Bounty hunters were not discriminated by race, gender or even heritage. Bounty hunters always hung out in taverns/inns and bars with special treatment for the gifted, a bounty wall that lists possible bounties for the gifted or both. Of all the professions possible for the gifted, Bounty hunter not only paid the most, it was the best choice for any gifted with a thirst for blood. If a vampire nobleman became corrupt, there would be a bounty on his head one day and him dead the next. Every werewolf and vampire was taught to hate the other with every aspect of their being, to fight if them whenever you came across the other, and if need be, to fight to the death. All in all though, Jacob didn't care about all that, he just wanted to live out the rest of his days in the forest. To a human, he was 19 years old, but in reality he was really well over 300. A werewolf could only die of old age or a chopped off head, silver bullets meant nothing. Every full moon a werewolf would be forced into wolf form, the only time a werewolf's blood lust could force him to devour men and destroy all in sight. A vampire could only die of old age and something pierced through their heart. And in those years he had learned to control the beast within that was filled with blood lust and anger and hatred, mostly. He had even learned how to control the change from a man to a wolf. As he chased after the buck, closing the distance between the two, the memories of the night his life changed came rushing back to him.

As the light of the moon shone, coating the thick silent forest and the village that lay within, a young man quietly treaded toward the village, a small deer slung over a shoulder, a yew longbow and a quiver full of arrows on the other. The young man was named Jacob. As he walked he wore a grin on his face, pleased with his good catch. He had always been skilled with a bow and arrow. The deer on his shoulder had a brown coat of fur, an arrow embedded in its neck proof of it. Not only that but he had turned 19 just last week, but most though him to be only 17. As he walked on, the crisp orange leaves crushed and crunched underfoot, a sign of a coming fall. Jacob looked up at the night sky as he walked. The stars were beautiful tonight. But not as much as the full moon that night. Its ominous silver-like glow, Jacob noticed that it almost seemed as though the light was shining down on him, as if trying to convey a message to him. For a minute, Jacob found himself staring up at the moon. And then he heard it. Hoooowwwll! Jacob felt several chills run up and down his spine. He heard the faintest growling noise, one from a wolf. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it blur through the trees around him. A wolf. Not any wolf, this wolf was red all over. Its claws were at least 4 inches long and deeply stained with blood. Its fangs were all canine and sharp as knives. It was the size of a large bed and fast as a bolt of lightning. But its eyes... its eyes were like something you only hear of in horror stories. Its eyes were black. There were no whites, no color. Only the irises were there. Black and bottomless as onyxes and filled with hatred and fury. Jacob could hear it better now, it was growling again, only this time there was more hatred and blood lust. Jacob wanted to scream, to run away until his legs were broken. He willed his body to move but it would not obey. Fear gripped him tightly freezing him where he stood. The growling came once more, only much closer now. And his body did as he commanded. Jacob ran for the village, dropping the deer but not bothering to pick it up. He jumped over fallen logs, dodged oncoming trees and ducked under low branches as fast as his feet would take him. His shirt torn and several scratches on his skin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the monstrous wolf only a little ways behind and slowly gaining. A cold sweat covered him. His heart and blood pumped so fast and hard it felt like there was a hammer in his chest. But he didn't slow down for a second. Terror slowly enveloped him. And then he saw it. The edge of the trees leading to the village. Faint red and orange light streaming through. The terror dissipated and Jacob felt warm tears streak down his face. For a moment he believed he would get away. He ran as fast as he could and more, hope of survival pushing him on. But luck wasn't on his side. Only 20 steps from the edge of the trees, Jacob's foot caught onto a stray tree root and stumbled. Frantically, he tried to regain his balance and speed. But it was already to late. He stumbled and fell, his back to the ground. And there it stood. Jacob realized that the wolf wasn't red, it was snowy white, its fur was matted and coated in dried blood nearly all over. It bared its fangs and did something truly unnatural. It tucked in its front paws, pushed off with the back, and stood on its hind legs just as a man would. It even had the figure of a man except for the head and legs. Where the nose should have been was a wolfish snout and the heel and sole of its foot bent upward, its toes ending in large bloody black claws. It glared at him with its unholy pitch black eyes. It was covered in muscles and fur. Its body was covered in deep and gruesome scars, all of which were recent, a few days old at best, and amatuerly stitched together. The cuts also seemed precise, as if all inflicted with surgical knives and scissors. Only now when it stared down at Jacob with its black bottomless eyes, did he see that there was no hatred, no anger or blood lust in its eyes anymore. In its eyes there was no emotion at all, just a blank expression. Jacob wanted to scream. To talk to the beast, as if it could understand him and even speak. To ask it why it wanted him. At that moment Jacob thought he heard it speak to him in a deep voice, as if reading his thoughts, its mouth even moving to form the words. "It can only be you." And then everything went black.

Chapter 2: A new life, a new chance
To this day, Jacob still doesn't know how it happened. Whether it was fate, chance, or simply one of the few things you can't explain. As he slowly woke up, his head throbbing vigorously, he put his hands to the ground to feel the grass that lay underneath him, and didn't find it. What he felt was woven sheets and cotton. At first Jacob didn't notice the difference, too deep in sleep to care. Slowly a strong smell he hadn't smelt in