Hello and welcome to She Wolf Night. This blog is mainly about the paranormal including ghosts, monsters, urban legends, UFO's and cryptids. We also cover subjects of folklore, myths and legends. I sometimes mention stories about the natural world. I base my posts on information from books, websites, articles and even historic records, which I always give links to. There will be some content that readers may find disturbing. Finally I will point out that this blog uses cookies.
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Sunday, 28 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Lianna Sangmond
The night is pretty, the moon is full and pale blue. The castle looks like its made of crystal and the garden is dreamlike.
"Come on Lianna!" the girls say. They're running around the garden, until they become wolves.
It's a night to be fed.
The instructors, the two alpha females and the alpha male, all lead us out into the woods. I follow them just to be free of the walls. My head is spinning. The feeling of becoming a wolf still pains me, and it gives me nose bleeds. My paws hurt.
I'm only nineteen years old. Wish I could be agile like the other girls. I'm slower, and I can't dance as well as they can. They sing better than me. I don't have a singing voice. I can't even speak properly without stammering. My howls are weak too.
As a wolf, I walk through the damp woods, across moist sticking leaves and twigs. I don't like coming out here at night. The others want to run. The alphas look for an animal to kill.
I just want to stay in the garden and play.
The following morning, it's cold.
"Come on Lianna!" shouts the commanding voice of the alpha male tutor, as we walk into the dining hall for breakfast. I'm always shouted at.
The other girls are all poking fun at me in a nice way. They're not bad girls. They're as gentle as flowers. I don't really fit in with this unique school for girls. There's only 50 girls altogether, it's a private and exclusive school for the arts and spiritual development for the teenage daughters of rich werewolves.
Here, I'm just the omega girl of the perfect troope of girls. They go around in their flowing dresses, glittering big false eyelashes, rainbow hair, jewels and amazingly platinum white teeth. The tutors love all the girls apart from me. In comparison to them, I'm just plain, ordinary to look at.
"You're too slow Lianna!" yells a female tutor, "Get a move on!"
I hurry to the canteen and grab a tray, some food and tea. I sit alone on a table once again.
"Finish Lianna!" a different tutor orders, while I'm halfway through my breakfast.
Outside it's chilly and frosty but some of the girls need me on their team now. They're smiling and holding my hands.
There's a white mist and the trees are like ghost giants! The girls are dancing and I'm trying hard to do the same. I keep stumbling and tripping. The tutors are scowling at me. That's done it. A few crosses added to my name on the list.
"Don't worry Lianna!" the girls say now and then. "We'll look after you!"
I'm tied here with these girls and we're all bound to stay together.
We're the maidens of the sun and moon.
We're the trainee priestesses of the wolf gods Skoll and Hati. The castle is not just a school but a temple. There are priests two miles away who are warriors of the same divine wolves. If I go, then I've broken the celestial chain of us girls.
There always has to be the little omega one in the pack and it's me. I must brave out this journey and understand I'm part of this beautiful world. Think positively.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Thursday, 25 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Opal Yaksha
Hello, I'm 22 years old and from a very ancient family. Where shall I begin?
We're responsible for the amount of dead sheep and cows in fields across the land, some blame it on wolves, coyotes, mountain lions, even aliens. We extract the innards, blood and eyes of the animals, then one of our physicians performs surgery to cut up in places to remove evidence such as our DNA and fang marks.
The farmers and police are mystified, and don't know what can do that. Many sceptics still blame wild animals. They're not far from the truth except it wasn't wild animals but werewolves.
I've never committed those things personally but my parents have. They've brought home the meat on the table. They've fed us three kids and we grew up on it. Yes we eat vegetables, wheat, corn, ginger and fruit also. Many people aren't understanding or knowledged on this.
Werewolves are omnivores!
I personally love chocolate. That is my favourite. I bet you didn't realise that werewolves enjoy other food varieties.
You probably didn't know that my ancestors were the people who invented curry. We mixed various ingrediants to come up with assorted spices, and put everything in a pot with meat, seeds and curry plants. We added rice and bread. It was to meant to decrease hunger and prevent sickness. We passed the technique onto the local farmers in the region, who taught their friends and families.
Being originally from the Indus Valley, we've passed down ways of science, medicine and art. Werewolves lived in Mohenjo-daro and ritually slaughtered animals in the same manner that my family do today. People copied our hunting traits and performed animal sacrifices. The ancient city was destroyed in a war between humans and werewolves.
Before that war flattened the city, many people regarded werewolves as "pure" Punjadzhana, then later on, we were hated and feared according to legends.
Throughout the world, werewolves have a demonic reputation. That isn't very surprising going by how we've behaved! Yet, it's only because we're a warrior species of people and not that much different to the psychotic aspect of humans. Except we have two bodies.
Each full moon I become a wolf, and I'm well behaved. Despite the notorious nature of my family, I'm nice and don't want to hurt anyone. I'm gentle as both human and wolf. I just seem unable to convince you of that. Nevermind.
My family moved to the United States in the early 19th Century. My family as well as extended families also. I'm also a dancer and worked on stage and in Hollywod films as an extra. This is fine with me because I work shifts.
Being in Fenrir's Daughters is quite amazing so that I can talk about my own family without prejudice coming from outside.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Saturday, 20 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Blossom Prowler
It's raining. The sky is dark, and tonight should be a full moon. I'm babysitting for the neighbours' kids tonight, as their parents are out. It's my first night doing the job for these children.
They might be too young. The eldest, Caleb, is nine years old. I started to shapeshift when I was thirteen years old so it will be many years until he transforms. I anticipate a night of taking them to bed, and having a fun relax in front of a good horror film, then a nap in my wolf's shape!
I will make sure the kids go to bed first. The neighbours are werewolves, so all the people in this part of town are. The houses in the streets are tall and dark red. The trees in the neighbourhood are white. It's pretty, like bone against blood.
After tucking them in their beds I went downstairs. Got some coke, cookies, put the TV on and watched an old scary film in black and white. During the film itself, I was in waves of hot pain that comes with transformation. It was soon over, I learned to cope with it.
I'm now a wolf, with sleek grey fur that replaces my mousy coloured hair. I go and sit down on the carpet, and shut my eyes.
Then something moved down the stairs. I opened my eyes. Behind the door, a cute shape of a wolf pup appeared. It was sweet with brown fur with big blue eyes. It was the boy Caleb.
I was surprised.
Well, I couldn't doze off now. He kept me awake, and he was so difficult. He was scratching the front door and back door. He chewed shoes, the furniture, ripped magazines and books, used the carpet as a toilet, jumped at me whenever I wanted to rest, pulled my tail, left marks all over the sofa and armchairs, broke ornaments, constantly ran around, treated the downstairs like a playground.
I growled at him once, he looked worried for a moment, got the message and hit under the dining table. I waited, then dozed off on the living room floor. I was too worried thinking about the mess. Caleb's mom and dad will be furious with me.
The following morning, I woke up on the floor in my human form. Caleb was asleep on the sofa, now a little human boy in pyjamas. What on earth!
The place looked terrible! Caleb, as a wolf, must've done more damage after I fell asleep.
His parents returned home shortly.
"Blossom! Look at our house! What have you done! Get out!" Caleb's mom yelled.
That was it. I'm not allowed to babysit again. Just as well, I prefer something easier like doing a paper round. So if you want to babysit werewolf kids, just be prepared!
I'm 18 years old and in Fenrir's Daughters, which is a huge international club for werewolf women and girls. I wanted to share that story of mine with you. Other werewolves from Fenrir's Daughters have given some of their stories.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Thursday, 18 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Trina Spaka-Zvezda
Hello.
I'm anxious right now. The alpha werewolf, Vadik Okhota, gave a frightening speech at the community gathering last night. He wants to personally slay anyone who opposes him and tries to leave the village of Yad. He's a big powerful man with tattoos on his face. I'm scared of him.
The village we live in a village by a thick forest. We're cut off from the rest of the country and the entire world. We only have radio and some internet access but this is limited to the few. Vadik controls it. He decides who uses those things.
He does enable us to have fresh water running through out homes. The well is unused, but we've got a resevoir buried deep underground, filtered and clean. Our food source... we eat from the (infected) animals we hunt. Sometimes we grow food in green rooftop houses. It's all purified. Vadik gave us warmth and health. He's looked after us werewolves in the Chernobyl exlusion zone, and he's built this village and others throughout the deep irradiated forest.
We have our own country now. It's got no name as yet. It might be called Vadik's Land! We're werewolves and we can be free from everyone who would rather hunt us down. Atleast we're safe in here so others can't get us.
But Vadik, regardless of the wonders he's done, is powerful and strong. I've seen him kill my own father when I was only small. Vadik has a temper, and he's in charge. He's the biggest werewolf throughout the exclusion zone, and the most dominant and frightening in the world, I believe.
He turns into a wolf every night and prowls the forest. He is always awake. That man never sleeps. He can read minds too. I forgot to say he's telepathic as well as a helicopter pilot. As a wolf, Vadik is a very large ferocious black wolf with red eyes.There's something hellish about him.
I've never been under his watchful gaze. I'm not important enough. I'm just a silly teenager in the school that grows vegetables and cooks medicines.
There are thousands of other werewolves settled inside the Chernobyl zone. I live just a mile from the border. I have friends in the outside world though and sometimes I meet them. I've got internet friends too that I talk to when I'm on there although it's just 30 minutes each week.
Vadik's children have a TV set in their rooms. Vadik's family live in a castle that Vadik built 30 years ago. I've only watched the TV when I'm visiting the cafe. The rest of us werewolves live like peasants, given what we're given. No phones, no electrics, just basic things.
Okay time is coming up now. I told you my story and how it is living here in isolation. One day I hope to leave, but not until Vadik's reign is over. It mights be a long time. He won't let us go. I'm proud to be in Fenrir's Daughters that helps us all meet and talk to each other. The officer said Vadik wants me offline, as it's someone else's turn.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Tuesday, 16 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Abigail Jet
Hello, my name is Abigail and I'm the daughter of an infamous Omega werewolf, Jet Sharpfangs. He was my father, executed many years ago for hideous killings of people in small villages near the city of Odessa. I was just 12 years old living with my mother and siblings. Our home was a medieval stone house in the countryside. Father worked on a railway and mother made clothes. I remember we had to change our name from Sharpfangs to Jet, making it easier for us not to be recognised by everyone. Father was on the news sometimes, but everything else was hushed up. It wasn't made public that father died as a wolf. That was just before the abolition of the death penalty.
In my country, the death penalty is only allowed to be used against werewolves who've killed people. I don't miss my father. He was a cold brutal man anyway. He was always out drinking, or doing something sinister. I don't want to remember him.
Mother died of cancer last year. My two brothers and older sister moved away, and I remain in the house. I plan to sell up and move to Canada, to be with my fiance, the delta werewolf Carl Darkfur. He's quiet about what he is, as I am too.
As I pour over the books written by famous authors, I wonder if these people have really met a werewolf. I understand much has to be learned. I came across a book written by a scientist who discovered werewolf DNA and was then silenced. He was killed by a werewolf alpha. Our elite don't want the average person knowing too much.
There's another book, all in ancient codes and a dead language that I can't read, all stating that werewolves are from the moon. There is an even older version of the book somewhere in Ethiopia that my online friend, Sheba Cherika, was telling me about. She's a werewolf too and a student like me. I have this medieval copy of the book with me. If only I could understand what it says.
I'm a student in history on a leave of absence. Last week I visited another friend, Trina, who lives on the border near Pripyat, an abandoned ghost town. A few werewolves actually moved right inside Pripyat. Brave of them because I wouldn't do it as that place is dangerous with radiation. Some werewolves don't care. I guess they want to rebel that way.
I want to explore and discover everything about life. For now, I will talk to Carl on Skype and pack my things, ready to leave for Canada next week.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
In my country, the death penalty is only allowed to be used against werewolves who've killed people. I don't miss my father. He was a cold brutal man anyway. He was always out drinking, or doing something sinister. I don't want to remember him.
Mother died of cancer last year. My two brothers and older sister moved away, and I remain in the house. I plan to sell up and move to Canada, to be with my fiance, the delta werewolf Carl Darkfur. He's quiet about what he is, as I am too.
As I pour over the books written by famous authors, I wonder if these people have really met a werewolf. I understand much has to be learned. I came across a book written by a scientist who discovered werewolf DNA and was then silenced. He was killed by a werewolf alpha. Our elite don't want the average person knowing too much.
There's another book, all in ancient codes and a dead language that I can't read, all stating that werewolves are from the moon. There is an even older version of the book somewhere in Ethiopia that my online friend, Sheba Cherika, was telling me about. She's a werewolf too and a student like me. I have this medieval copy of the book with me. If only I could understand what it says.
I'm a student in history on a leave of absence. Last week I visited another friend, Trina, who lives on the border near Pripyat, an abandoned ghost town. A few werewolves actually moved right inside Pripyat. Brave of them because I wouldn't do it as that place is dangerous with radiation. Some werewolves don't care. I guess they want to rebel that way.
I want to explore and discover everything about life. For now, I will talk to Carl on Skype and pack my things, ready to leave for Canada next week.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Sunday, 14 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Sheba Cherika
Well, this isn't proper of me talking to you about this. For many generations my family haven't said a word to strangers. We don't talk openly about what we are, especially in these times.
Our family have hidden away in private for centuries. I'm not comfortable telling you my story.
Not sure why my aunt said it's okay because this is filled only with our kind. Werewolves.
Okay now, I begin.
I grew up with my grandparents and two cousins. I'm 20 years old now.
Each full moon, sometimes, I hang around in the green plateau, blending in with the wild dogs and wolves. We trust one another.
When my family and friends join the midnight freedom in our second skins as wolves, it's as though the earth is channelling through us. I can't bring that sense of wonder back to me in my human form. When I'm a wolf, my soul is too. When I'm human, my soul is human. There is two of me. So you see, we can't stay in the village at night during a full moon.
My parents were killed as wolves. They remained wolves in death.
A priestess came to visit my grandparents once and told them that my mother and father roam the land in wolf forms. It was how they died. But mother appears as a woman in my dreams. I know spirits of the dead communicate with us in our dreams.
I plan to go to the private library and it's built inside a large baobab tree trunk. Why do you laugh? The books and scrolls were once part of a grand library from the Aksum period.
My grandmother read once in a book found only in that secret library. It said that on top of the mountains in this country, is a path leading up to the moon. Yes, laugh sometimes at that.
Now I must go and find out if that book is in the library. That book is very old.
This part of Ethiopia is full of mystery. Not far from here is the Gudit stelae field with ancient monoliths across the terrain. It feels eerie but it's where many of us werewolves congregate at certain times but not every year. I sense lots of spirits there.
Now I must go. Don't breath a word of this to anyone else.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Our family have hidden away in private for centuries. I'm not comfortable telling you my story.
Not sure why my aunt said it's okay because this is filled only with our kind. Werewolves.
Okay now, I begin.
I grew up with my grandparents and two cousins. I'm 20 years old now.
Each full moon, sometimes, I hang around in the green plateau, blending in with the wild dogs and wolves. We trust one another.
When my family and friends join the midnight freedom in our second skins as wolves, it's as though the earth is channelling through us. I can't bring that sense of wonder back to me in my human form. When I'm a wolf, my soul is too. When I'm human, my soul is human. There is two of me. So you see, we can't stay in the village at night during a full moon.
My parents were killed as wolves. They remained wolves in death.
A priestess came to visit my grandparents once and told them that my mother and father roam the land in wolf forms. It was how they died. But mother appears as a woman in my dreams. I know spirits of the dead communicate with us in our dreams.
I plan to go to the private library and it's built inside a large baobab tree trunk. Why do you laugh? The books and scrolls were once part of a grand library from the Aksum period.
My grandmother read once in a book found only in that secret library. It said that on top of the mountains in this country, is a path leading up to the moon. Yes, laugh sometimes at that.
Now I must go and find out if that book is in the library. That book is very old.
This part of Ethiopia is full of mystery. Not far from here is the Gudit stelae field with ancient monoliths across the terrain. It feels eerie but it's where many of us werewolves congregate at certain times but not every year. I sense lots of spirits there.
Now I must go. Don't breath a word of this to anyone else.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Friday, 12 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Sarah Bellabonna Lobo
It's so gloomy and wet tonight. The moon is a frosted crescent, but it doesn't matter. I can become a wolf at any moon phase.
Others consider me "sweet" as a flower, because of the pale silvery fur and puppy blue eyes.
In my human shape, I'm not so strong or agile. I'm limited in how fast I can run. I suffer too much flu and coldsores on my lips.
In my ancestral castle now, my fine yellow hair is plaited and my fingernails keep breaking. My family are away hunting.
We're of the gammas in the social heirarchy of the werewolves.
We live in north Spain.
I'm 19 years old, I've got two big brothers and one little sister.
There is another side to me. I produce a poison comes from my bite.
A few years ago I was walking through the Irati Jungle, which is often dead cold. I was sipping icy water from a rivulet when something a stone hit me on my thigh. There was a horrible man there, half hidden in bushes. He threw that stone at me but he was armed with a rifle. He stood up and pointed the rifle at me.
On instinct, I jumped at him and pushed the rifle away from me, that was fired off. The bullet hit into the trunk of a tree.
I grabbed the man's arm with my jaws and bit hard. I tasted his blood and so I let go of him. I fled quickly. The man wasn't stupid enough to chase after me.
Then the following week, I heard that a local hunter had been in hospital treated for a toxic infection made from a wolf's bite. That would be me. Apparantly my bite nearly killed him.
Now I warn you not to come near me when I'm a wolf.
My bite is poisonous and lethal.
I'm careful with others, especially with my boyfriend Raul when I kiss him, I need to kiss carefully. Yes he's a werewolf, but not like me.
My trait is rare. I've been given the nickname "Belladonna" by everyone in the werewolf community here.
I'm in Fenrir's Daughters, a helpful place full of werewolf girls and women that come and tell stories online or in paper. Others will give you their own stories that are weirder and cooler than mine!
Hoooooooooowl!
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Others consider me "sweet" as a flower, because of the pale silvery fur and puppy blue eyes.
In my human shape, I'm not so strong or agile. I'm limited in how fast I can run. I suffer too much flu and coldsores on my lips.
In my ancestral castle now, my fine yellow hair is plaited and my fingernails keep breaking. My family are away hunting.
We're of the gammas in the social heirarchy of the werewolves.
We live in north Spain.
I'm 19 years old, I've got two big brothers and one little sister.
There is another side to me. I produce a poison comes from my bite.
A few years ago I was walking through the Irati Jungle, which is often dead cold. I was sipping icy water from a rivulet when something a stone hit me on my thigh. There was a horrible man there, half hidden in bushes. He threw that stone at me but he was armed with a rifle. He stood up and pointed the rifle at me.
On instinct, I jumped at him and pushed the rifle away from me, that was fired off. The bullet hit into the trunk of a tree.
I grabbed the man's arm with my jaws and bit hard. I tasted his blood and so I let go of him. I fled quickly. The man wasn't stupid enough to chase after me.
Then the following week, I heard that a local hunter had been in hospital treated for a toxic infection made from a wolf's bite. That would be me. Apparantly my bite nearly killed him.
Now I warn you not to come near me when I'm a wolf.
My bite is poisonous and lethal.
I'm careful with others, especially with my boyfriend Raul when I kiss him, I need to kiss carefully. Yes he's a werewolf, but not like me.
My trait is rare. I've been given the nickname "Belladonna" by everyone in the werewolf community here.
I'm in Fenrir's Daughters, a helpful place full of werewolf girls and women that come and tell stories online or in paper. Others will give you their own stories that are weirder and cooler than mine!
Hoooooooooowl!
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Monday, 8 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Emily Moonstone
Good evening. My name is Emily Moonstone and I'm 40 years old. As you're aware, I'm a member of Fenrir's Daughters. It's an international circle of female werewolves such as myself. For years I've kept that part of me hidden from friends and associates. I don't want them digging too deep into my private life. I'm a Beta in the werewolf structure, and married to a Beta werewolf who's in the marines. He uses his genetic traits in combat. I use my gnetic traits to help others. Especially my day job, I run a hospice and care for the sick and disabled. At night, I run a secret business. Well, it's not a money making scheme. I do this to help others worse off than me.
I breed dogs. These are not ordinary household dogs. They're not dogs who would be fit enough in work. These are supernatural dogs. I raise abandoned supernatural hell houn pups. I've got over thirty shuck puppies in my back garden. I raise them, and when they're old enough, I send them off on their way.
Occasionally I've helped a regular stray dog in distress. I've even handled poorly foxes and given them health. I can petsit your dogs for free, and I promise to keep them away from the supernatural types at the back garden. Your dogs can stay in the enclosure at the front, with a spacious yard, and warm kennels.
Do I lose dogs? No of course not. I make sure that each dog has a collar with name tag. I feed all of them at specific mealtimes, then take them on walks. In the daytime, my teenage sons and daughters will look after them. Yes, and they're trained to care for dogs both normal and paranormal.
What about food? I give dogs the food you prefer your dog to eat, but we stock bagloads of biscuits of many types, including chewy treats. We've got meat, tins of freshly homemade dog food with a mixture of meat and vegetables. We can get regular brands of tinned dog food if you want.
What about the dogs health and safety? Our property is one hundred percent safe. We have smoke alarms, fire extinguishers, you name it. We've got cctv cameras, a secure gate, grass, decent flooring and insulated walls. The dogs will be comfortable and safe. We've got training in medicine also.
How many? We don't look after more than 10 regular dogs due to space, but on average, we only get up to three dogs every week. The most we've had is 6 dogs being cared for when their owners are on holiday.
Will the pets be frightened of the supernatural dogs? Yes they would be, except we keep them away from eachother. We've got a special wall so that the supernatural dogs can't go beyond this. I made sure that the demonic pups can't and won't enter the house or escape from the garden. In future I plan to move the supernatural dogs into a more isolated place in the countryside, a few miles away.
You don't have to entrust me with your loveable dogs at the moment. I wanted you to know what we have. I'll give you a tour but I won't let anyone near the garden. Supernatural dogs can be very scary.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
I breed dogs. These are not ordinary household dogs. They're not dogs who would be fit enough in work. These are supernatural dogs. I raise abandoned supernatural hell houn pups. I've got over thirty shuck puppies in my back garden. I raise them, and when they're old enough, I send them off on their way.
Occasionally I've helped a regular stray dog in distress. I've even handled poorly foxes and given them health. I can petsit your dogs for free, and I promise to keep them away from the supernatural types at the back garden. Your dogs can stay in the enclosure at the front, with a spacious yard, and warm kennels.
Do I lose dogs? No of course not. I make sure that each dog has a collar with name tag. I feed all of them at specific mealtimes, then take them on walks. In the daytime, my teenage sons and daughters will look after them. Yes, and they're trained to care for dogs both normal and paranormal.
What about food? I give dogs the food you prefer your dog to eat, but we stock bagloads of biscuits of many types, including chewy treats. We've got meat, tins of freshly homemade dog food with a mixture of meat and vegetables. We can get regular brands of tinned dog food if you want.
What about the dogs health and safety? Our property is one hundred percent safe. We have smoke alarms, fire extinguishers, you name it. We've got cctv cameras, a secure gate, grass, decent flooring and insulated walls. The dogs will be comfortable and safe. We've got training in medicine also.
How many? We don't look after more than 10 regular dogs due to space, but on average, we only get up to three dogs every week. The most we've had is 6 dogs being cared for when their owners are on holiday.
Will the pets be frightened of the supernatural dogs? Yes they would be, except we keep them away from eachother. We've got a special wall so that the supernatural dogs can't go beyond this. I made sure that the demonic pups can't and won't enter the house or escape from the garden. In future I plan to move the supernatural dogs into a more isolated place in the countryside, a few miles away.
You don't have to entrust me with your loveable dogs at the moment. I wanted you to know what we have. I'll give you a tour but I won't let anyone near the garden. Supernatural dogs can be very scary.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Saturday, 6 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Charlotte Ombre
The tall house was abandoned although someone was in there. It wasn't possible to see outside, as every window was dark. I could tell there was a tiny red flickering and something moving within.
I slowly walked up to the iron gate, and pushed it aside, it was loose anyway. Inside was a wild garden and unruly trees. Creatures lived within the tight shrubs, hidden from view. I crept along the broken path, and up three cracked marble steps leading up to a rotten porch. I noticed that the heavy oak door was open, and I pushed it.
Upstairs, that's where they were.
I could tell there was more than one. A mixture of smells hit me, and it was nasty. Tobacco, beer, marijuana, body odour, pizza, hair gel, socks, exhaust fumes. I climbed the stairs with much quiet, and if he heard any floorboards creaking, I didn't care. He would never escape now.
Then I reached the top of the creaking stairs, but there was music and laughing.
I found it came from one of the empty rooms. Voices now, three of them. A female, and two males. I was only interested in one of the males. The others were just friends.
Then I came to the door that was ajar. There was more laughing. It was one of the men. His own laughter. Idiot. I simply went inside the room and stood in the low candle light. At first the man was not aware of me, he'd had his back turned. Drunk, showing off again, and doing a silly dance to impress the others.
Halvard and Jenni saw me. They acknowledged me with eyes that glowed.
"She's here," said Halvard.
The idiot, Mark, turned to look at me. His drunk silly grin faded, and his eyes squinted.
"Huh?" Mark was unsure at first.
I could smell his blood now and I felt hungry.
"Hello Mark," I said smiling. "It's me, Charlotte."
Then his smile was gone. He was scared now. and came running to the door. I let him pass me, but he didn't make it very far. Being so drunk, he stumbled and fell over.
It was here that I killed him.
Yes, I spent months hunting this easy prey. At first I didn't know who he was. We, as in the small pack I'm in, take it in turns to hunt a random stranger. We pick a name out of a bag, names collected from a database, electroral roll, phonebook. Mine was going to be this man called Mark Smith, who works in an office, commutes to the city every day, lives alone in an apartment, doesn't have any close friends or relatives. No one would miss him. Once I found him, I needed to get him somewhere quiet. I almost killed him twice before but he was too clever. He kept avoiding me after that.
My two friends Jenni and Halvard decided to help. They took him to the abandoned house for a joint, promising drugs, money, and told him that a girl would arrive to have fun with him. He fell for this trap. He didn't know that the girl was me.
Now you know that some of us werewolves keep the long tradition going. We don't hunt for sport. It's not to be cruel either. It's in our nature and we need to for food.
I understand that I've angered a few other werewolves who call themselves civilised. Jenni hasn't killed anyone though. I don't know about Halvard, you need to ask him. But remember that, we're all werewolves no matter how you dress it up as.
Some like you will be very upset to know that we like hunting people just to eat them. It's what we do. It's what we are. If you want to execute me then go ahead, you bitch Marielle Ice.
I'm in prison for murder. In fact, in the eyes of the law, I'm just a murderess. To the law of werewolves in the land, I'm far worse. The death penalty was stopped in Britain last century, but it lagally remains within the law of our inner werewolf community.
I'm a member of Fenrir's Daughters, and so are many other female werewolves who are either good and bad. My friends and enemies are in it. I'm certain all of you do-gooding werewolves will read this. I'm Charlotte and tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. Atleast I'll see through that because next week is when I'm going to find out the verdict.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
I slowly walked up to the iron gate, and pushed it aside, it was loose anyway. Inside was a wild garden and unruly trees. Creatures lived within the tight shrubs, hidden from view. I crept along the broken path, and up three cracked marble steps leading up to a rotten porch. I noticed that the heavy oak door was open, and I pushed it.
Upstairs, that's where they were.
I could tell there was more than one. A mixture of smells hit me, and it was nasty. Tobacco, beer, marijuana, body odour, pizza, hair gel, socks, exhaust fumes. I climbed the stairs with much quiet, and if he heard any floorboards creaking, I didn't care. He would never escape now.
Then I reached the top of the creaking stairs, but there was music and laughing.
I found it came from one of the empty rooms. Voices now, three of them. A female, and two males. I was only interested in one of the males. The others were just friends.
Then I came to the door that was ajar. There was more laughing. It was one of the men. His own laughter. Idiot. I simply went inside the room and stood in the low candle light. At first the man was not aware of me, he'd had his back turned. Drunk, showing off again, and doing a silly dance to impress the others.
Halvard and Jenni saw me. They acknowledged me with eyes that glowed.
"She's here," said Halvard.
The idiot, Mark, turned to look at me. His drunk silly grin faded, and his eyes squinted.
"Huh?" Mark was unsure at first.
I could smell his blood now and I felt hungry.
"Hello Mark," I said smiling. "It's me, Charlotte."
Then his smile was gone. He was scared now. and came running to the door. I let him pass me, but he didn't make it very far. Being so drunk, he stumbled and fell over.
It was here that I killed him.
Yes, I spent months hunting this easy prey. At first I didn't know who he was. We, as in the small pack I'm in, take it in turns to hunt a random stranger. We pick a name out of a bag, names collected from a database, electroral roll, phonebook. Mine was going to be this man called Mark Smith, who works in an office, commutes to the city every day, lives alone in an apartment, doesn't have any close friends or relatives. No one would miss him. Once I found him, I needed to get him somewhere quiet. I almost killed him twice before but he was too clever. He kept avoiding me after that.
My two friends Jenni and Halvard decided to help. They took him to the abandoned house for a joint, promising drugs, money, and told him that a girl would arrive to have fun with him. He fell for this trap. He didn't know that the girl was me.
Now you know that some of us werewolves keep the long tradition going. We don't hunt for sport. It's not to be cruel either. It's in our nature and we need to for food.
I understand that I've angered a few other werewolves who call themselves civilised. Jenni hasn't killed anyone though. I don't know about Halvard, you need to ask him. But remember that, we're all werewolves no matter how you dress it up as.
Some like you will be very upset to know that we like hunting people just to eat them. It's what we do. It's what we are. If you want to execute me then go ahead, you bitch Marielle Ice.
I'm in prison for murder. In fact, in the eyes of the law, I'm just a murderess. To the law of werewolves in the land, I'm far worse. The death penalty was stopped in Britain last century, but it lagally remains within the law of our inner werewolf community.
I'm a member of Fenrir's Daughters, and so are many other female werewolves who are either good and bad. My friends and enemies are in it. I'm certain all of you do-gooding werewolves will read this. I'm Charlotte and tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. Atleast I'll see through that because next week is when I'm going to find out the verdict.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Vanity Alba Lupa
The moon was like a wailing clock. Everytime that moon was bright, it caused me a lot of considerable pain. Then at its fullest, I go through a phase of severe sickness until I'm Wolf. I dread when the moon is full. I find it a curse.
Now the moon is less full, all I'm left with is a fever.
It's been this way since I was a child. It started when I was six years old, and the doctors told my foster carers that it was a whooping cough. The illness symptoms stopped when the moon reached a third quarter but it started all over again during a waxing gibbous moon.
I despise the moon.
The only werewolf who does.
I'm the only one in my pack who hides in the dark. I want to avoid the moon. Being underground or in a mountain cave removes the worst of the sickness so that I can become Wolf without feeling ill or under pain.
The moon hates me.
It is said my maternal ancestor was goddess Lupa Herself, the foster mother of Romulus and Remus.
Then there is my pack... my father's pack. The reminder that I also belong to the Warriors of Fire, as they call themselves. It has something to do with empires long ago, battles between werewolves and men.
I have a plane to catch. I'm going to the Teatro La Fenice and perform my contralto in flowers and satin. If I can't do this under the heavy burden of the moon, then I shall submit and be killed.
The werewolves watch me as I stand on stage under the full lights. I'm good at being an opera singer, and critics have said they've heard "the most beautiful howl".
My hair is heavy in sweat. My beautiful gown becomes sticky and itchy. I can't wait to get this performance done with. I didn't do so well.
Perhaps I should quit the world of opera and choose something less strict.
I don't like the moon. I don't want to be a night diva, or a full moon singer starlet. I just want peace, a quiet sky, and daylight.
Then in the shadows of the romantic city, there were flaming eyes watching me. Alphas, and their army of Betas, Gammas and Deltas. As frosty as snow, a dark figure appeared at my front door as I was going home. A tall powerful man in a hat. His eyes were furious and blazing red.
"Stop what you are doing!" he snarled.
I knew what he was. An alpha werewolf of the city of Venice. There was more than one.
"Or we'll do it for you"
I was shiddering. He stood aside and let me into my house.
That wasn't the first of the intimidation. I continue to make little performances, in clubs and cafes. They hate it. I was shot at in the city square but was missed. The bullet was silver! Dammit!
My life is on the edge. I love singing. I know the public loves me and I've got fans who adore me. I give to charity. I have a nice sum of money. But the more powerful werewolves want to frighten me away from my success. I can only think it's because they're worried I'll change into one during an opera night! I laugh at this. I refuse any performances during a full moon.
Then everything changed. Last month after I'd finished a final act of Staruss' Elektra, there was a present waiting for me in my changing room. A bunch of red roses, and a scarlet box with a note from someone who signed:
"To beautiful Vanity, I love you and cherish you. Romeo."
Signed with kisses and lovehearts.
I opened the box and found a bottle of red Italian sparkling wine! My favourite. That was my undoing. Although tasty, the wine was poisoned. It gave me a sore throat at first, then a polyp formed in my mouth. I was then rushed to hospital but needed a laryngectomy. Sadly my voice has gone!
The angry watchful eyes have gone. My career is over. I can't sing anymore.
They stopped me for me!
There was no real person called Romeo. That was a ploy to get me to drink that infected wine. They've ruined me. All I can do is suffer the monthly pains until I become Wolf each full moon. I'm still the same person but like the Little Mermaid, I've lost my voice. I can't even howl anymore.
I'm a werewolf who doesn't like the full moon and cannot howl.
A victim of the elite werewolves who hate it when an omega girl such as I makes it big in the world of celebrity. Now I need to reconsider my life.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
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