Lord Of The Lost

The howl, raw and untamed, cut through the forest, piercing the tense silence. Its owner moved with impossible speed; swift like a shadow.

She descended upon the battlefield like a tiger unleashed from the mountain.

In the blink of an eye, she was at the heart of the chaos. Her movements were a whirlwind of power and precision. With one swift kick, she sent a werewolf sprawling. With a flick of her wrist, another fell. Three, four werewolves were down in mere moments, unable to match her ferocity.

A deep, guttural roar rose from a corner of the battlefield. The monstrous creature she had rescued, still trembling from the fight, cried out in despair, "No!"

His voice was thick with sorrow. "You can't... you shouldn't be here," he gasped.

A piercing howl split the air. The werewolf leader, towering and menacing, threw his head back, letting out a cry that echoed across the misty forest.

"She's here! Finally, the target has appeared! Everyone, after her!" he snarled with a wicked grin. "The last witch; Little Red Riding Hood!"

His howl rippled through the forest, sending a wave of excitement among the werewolves. Their eyes gleamed as they began to circle, their anticipation like dark clouds rolling across the sky.

"Woo...woo..." The air filled with their growls and howls, eager for the hunt.

But Little Red Riding Hood stood tall amidst the chaos, her voice cutting through the tension. "Afraid of you? You low-blooded mongrels! You dare look at me with those filthy eyes? You're not even worthy to face me!"

The rescued monster, weak but desperate, called out, "You shouldn't... show yourself to them... They'll kill you."

"How could I leave you to die?" Little Red Riding Hood snapped, her voice fierce and unwavering.

"You don't understand... I can't control it," the creature replied, his voice faltering. "You must follow me... we need to break free..."

Little Red Riding Hood shook her head, her voice trembling with emotion. "You'll fall… you'll lose yourself."

"I already have," the monster rasped, his breath labored.

"But the witch can save you!" she pleaded, her desperation growing.

"It's too late. Get out of the Misty Forest. Believe me... I'll find the witch... and bring the cure back."

A cruel laugh echoed from the werewolf leader. "Break out? You can barely defend yourself, child!"

Little Red Riding Hood's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Then I'll kill you first!"

To the untrained eye, she looked like nothing more than a small girl; delicate, barely seven or eight years old. But there was something different about her now. Her bloodshot eyes burned with a fierce determination, far more dangerous than her size would suggest.

With a roar, she launched herself at the werewolf leader. He was no ordinary werewolf; his muscles rippled with strength, far beyond the others. With a snarl, he lunged forward, his right claws aimed to strike her down.

Bang!

The impact was deafening as their bodies collided, the sheer force throwing Little Red Riding Hood backward.

The ground seemed to quake under her as she tumbled through the air. But even mid-flight, she twisted, her body finding its balance. She landed on all fours, her nails digging into the earth as she skidded back several meters, gouging deep trenches in the ground.

Her fingers throbbed with pain, covered in dirt and blood. Still, she raised her head, sneering through the agony. "That's it? This is the strength of a pure-blooded werewolf? How long did it take you to reach this point? How many years of struggle?

Have you ever despaired over your limits?"

The werewolf leader's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a cruel snarl. "Your words won't save you," he growled.

And with that, the battle began anew.

Little Red Riding Hood sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Oh really? If that's true, then why are you so angry?" She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing into slits. "It's because, deep down, you know I'm destined to be greater than you. One day, when I'm fully grown, I'll crush you like a worthless bug."

The werewolf leader growled, his lips curling back to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. "But you won't live to see that day, little witch. Your kind is on the brink of extinction. How sad... Once, the witches were mighty, feared across all lands, but look at you now. You're nothing but a dying ember.

And while the witches wither, the werewolves will rise."

His eyes gleamed with a dangerous fervor as he raised his voice, addressing the pack. "Because we have you, the last witch! Our greatest treasure! The broken road of our past is being rebuilt. And soon, we will achieve immortality! It is our destiny!"

His words rumbled through the air, igniting a roar of excitement from the surrounding werewolves, who howled and growled in agreement. They could taste the promise of glory.

But a new voice cut through the chaos, one sharp and grating, like nails on a chalkboard. The monster behind Little Red Riding Hood spoke, his tone filled with bitterness. He had once been a hunter, proud and strong, but now he was something else; twisted, monstrous.

"Ten years ago..." His voice rasped as he recalled the past. "In the Black Forest, something strange happened. The king ordered the witches to protect the forest. And they did. But you—" he glared at the werewolves, his voice rising with anger. "You turned on them.

You betrayed the very witches who shielded you during Witch Night! You slaughtered them! You deserve nothing but death!"

His final words echoed through the forest, half-human, half-beast, like a roar from another world.

The werewolf leader's eyes flashed with fury. His entire body trembled with rage, his muscles swelling with power as he bared his fangs. He stood taller than ever, nearly three meters high, towering over the forest like a beast from ancient times. The air around him pulsed with violent energy.

"Witches?" he spat, his voice a thunderous growl. "Witches are the true traitors! They abandoned their faith! Look at the moon; how much of its ancient light still shines? You feel it, don't you?" He pointed a clawed finger at Little Red Riding Hood. "You can feel the strangeness in your blood!

Doesn't it shame you?"

His voice boomed as he continued, his fury building with each word. "Why should we, the werewolves, obey the orders of a human king? A lowly human! He should kneel before us, submit to the noble werewolf! Once, we were feared by all; wolves hunted in packs, dragons trembled at our might, even demons cowered before us!"

His claws dug into the earth as he spoke, his voice thick with bitterness. "And now look at us... forced to live in the shadows, scavenging like pitiful creatures..."

He spat on the ground in disgust. "The witches... they were meant to protect us! Both our tribes bathed in the glory of the ancient moon. We were allies, united in our power. We fought side by side, risked our lives for the same cause!

We chased the ancient moon together and vowed never to give up!"

His voice grew darker. "But the witches... they grew weak. They stopped fighting. They abandoned us."

The werewolf leader's eyes bore into Little Red Riding Hood, his voice turning cruel. "You were just a baby then, still in swaddling clothes. You don't remember the truth of what happened. But it's in your blood... buried deep in your ancient memories. You should help the werewolves!

Join us and continue the journey we began together!"

His words hit like venom, rekindling the blood feud that ran deeper than any memory. Little Red Riding Hood trembled, her small frame shaking with barely contained rage. Her throat tightened, and a low growl began to rise.

Her eyes burned with a ferocity that could not be tamed. "Shut up!" she hissed, her voice filled with venom. "You murderer! I'll kill you right here, right now!"

Without hesitation, she sprang into action, leaping three meters into the air, her body a blur of red and fury, aiming straight for the werewolf leader with lethal intent.

Little Red Riding Hood's leg sliced through the air, wrapped in a vortex of wind, aiming directly at the werewolf leader with a powerful kick.

But the leader was quicker. With a grin full of malice, he caught her delicate calf in mid-air, his claws wrapping around her leg like a vice. His eyes gleamed, showing rows of sharp, white teeth as he pulled her closer. He chuckled darkly, savoring his victory.

"Finally, Little Red Riding Hood, you're in my grasp." His voice dripped with cruelty. "I remember when you were born. We were so close to getting you back then... but the chaos that night, the betrayal from our own pack, it was unexpected." His grip tightened as he looked her over.

"That beautiful red hat… did your grandmother make it for you?" His words dripped with mockery as he tugged at the edge of her hood.

"Ah, yes... to suppress the werewolf blood in you, wasn't it? How cruel of them. Your own people, stifling your true nature." He leaned in closer, his breath hot and rancid. "You are the perfect blend of witch and werewolf; a born warrior. Yet here you are, living in a human village like a harmless little girl.

I can't even smell blood on you."

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Why haven't you slaughtered them? Why not raze that village to the ground and let your true nature reign?"

Before he could finish, a sharp whistle cut through the air. The werewolf leader's keen senses flared. He jerked his head up, releasing Little Red Riding Hood's leg just in time to block an incoming attack with his free hand.

His heightened instincts served him well; he could catch a bullet barehanded, so what was a mere stone? But this was no ordinary stone.

Bang!

The stone exploded in his hand, sending shards of flesh flying. Blood splattered across the ground as bones were exposed, and the werewolf leader snarled in pain.

I was careless! His thoughts raced. Who dares attack me?

Ignoring the pain, he glared around, his eyes blazing with fury. His muscles swelled, and his heart pounded with primal rage. Before he could locate his attacker, two more stones whistled through the fog, each more precise than the last.

With a snarl, he swung his fists to meet them. This time he was ready. His punches, hardened by his supernatural strength, intercepted the stones. Though his skin broke, only a trickle of blood followed; he had resisted the attack.

But in the split second of distraction, Little Red Riding Hood made her move. Twisting her body mid-air, she wrenched her right leg free, using the momentum to swing her left leg toward the werewolf leader's face.

Crack!

Her foot connected with his chin, sending his head snapping to the side. Several of his teeth loosened, blood spilling from his mouth as he stumbled backward, stunned.

Little Red Riding Hood didn't waste a second. Both her hands flared with bright, orange-red flames.

Flame Blast!

The explosion erupted right in the werewolf leader's face. Caught off guard, his body was thrown backward as his right arm took the brunt of the blast, shredding the muscle. He howled in agony, his grip on her finally loosening.

She landed, rolling away from him, but as soon as she stood, she faltered. Pain shot through her leg; her right calf was badly injured, nearly shattered.

The surrounding werewolves growled in fury, their hackles raised, ready to tear her apart. Their eyes glinted in the fog, bloodlust filling the air. But just as they lunged, a sudden gust of wind parted the mist.

A spear sliced through the fog, its tip gleaming, sweeping aside the dark clouds of war.

A young man stepped into the clearing, his presence commanding, radiating authority. His eyes were cold, calculating. He held a long spear with ease, his gaze locking onto the werewolves.

William, standing tall and fearless, raised his spear toward the pack. His voice, steady and sharp as steel, cut through the tension. "I suggest you leave now. While you still can."