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.
  

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.

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.