Part I

912 Words
                                                                             - All I remember is you. - No one knows his name yet he is known by many of them. Few of those are admiring ones and many more are insults rather than names. After all, he does rule with terror and fear. For majority werewolves he is deranged beast. Incarnation of monster that should be wiped out like an ugly disease and for some he is a vengeance demon. Savior sent to bring destruction and well deserved punishment, to all of us.  It all started with human massacres one month ago. The bodies of murdered people were torn apart and thrown as the garbage all over the streets. First, people done what people always do. They tried to protect themselves. Daylight brought them the false sense of comfort and they thought that walking in groups or being locked at home was a safe thing to do. Normally, that would do. But the monster  was not stopped. There was no higher chance of surviving at a daylight, with a gun or with the locker on your door. No one was safe. There was no comfort.  Werewolves within our community made no attempt to intervene and help. But they took a great interest in the matter. You see, it was immediately clear that one of our own- werewolf, was the one responsible for the murders and chaos.   You see, no matter how much werewolves hated humans no one dared to kill one. It would make humans pay attention and bring existence of our kind on a daylight. By a law to kill a human was punished with a death penalty. After all, humans outnumbered us and for that alone we feared them.  Who was the one who dared to harm not one but so many people. You could hear occasional whispers by some hormonal werewolf teens having the audacity to label him as the hero of the new age. After all, he done what they secretly wanted but with no courage to do it themselves. He became their voice. By the way he ripped his victims body parts- without any order or pattern, they named him -the butcher-. They had his posters with oversized "Butcher Fun-club" captions on their walls.  Some bragged to witness the killings. I doubt they did. If they did, they wouldn't make it out alive to tell the story. The only storyteller were the butchered organs he left behind. And they were very clear. What he did was not a simple murder. It was aggressive need to see death. To shut down the life.  At that moment I realized what none of them did. The werewolves who identified themselves with him were wrong. Very wrong. He was not one of them. He didn't kill humans because he hated them. It was pure coincidence that he started with finishing them first instead of us. It was the life he hated. The movement, breathing, walking, laughing- everything that screamed life.  Only after he start killing werewolves, as often and cruel as humans, they understood. Silence followed. Whispers of admiration among werewolf community stopped and posters were rapidly taken down. Fear grew stronger and those who used to openly support him were excluded from the society. It is not known from what pack he came from or if ever belonged to a pack. Since no one was spared to tell the tale it was unknown if he did it alone or in a group. No one could even tell exactly how strong he was. Not much was known except that he brings death- is death. Ironically, it was the unknown that we feared the most. Some took the liberty to call him a werewolf demon. A creature that not even kids believe in.  Every pack feared it will be next one to suffer this monsters wrath. Some packs even made alliance as If that would save them. Until something unexpected happen. He sent a word. He offered peace for the expensive price. Every three months they should sent him hundred girls from every pack around the globe. As long as they keep their end of deal he won't attack any pack or werewolf meanwhile. So they agreed. This was the necessary sacrifice. If any pack refused to participate in the selection process they were punished by forceful abduction of all female population in that pack. No female ever survived the selection process. This was 12th selection process. The only way to survive is to end up being his mate. Monster's mate. The rest are killed. This time I was selected together with hundred other girls. All wide eyed and equally wonderful. All with timid hope to be spared. But not me. I have no hope for I feel this is the end of me.  Ironically I never thought about being chosen as If I was entitled to be protected from the troubles of this world. My eyes still gazed at the red envelope in a constant state of disapproval. I was not prepared for this. My arrogant and spoiled behavior finally caught up with me.  My logic rested with the logic of the majority. He was searching for his mate. There is no other reason why would he demand young girls to be delivered to him. In his frustration of not finding one he kills all of them to prevent other males from finding their own and to kill the ones who already found theirs.  Tomorrow I am deported to my death. 
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