Once Upon A Time (3 page)

The Lupei Pack
followed us topside, fleeing from the Master’s wrath, since, after
all, they had been responsible for protecting the Heir. His fury
was great, and, acting wisely as even they could, they fled in the
face of that wrath. They chose to a deserted part of the world,
which in time would become known as Louisiana, since their primary
goal was to hide from the Master.

In the
meantime, the Anghelescu Pack fled to what was called Europe, and
specifically, the mountains. Europeans were such a wonderfully
warlike race, mostly down to religious differences. The old Pagan
religions of the Romans and the Germanic tribes had faded into the
mists of time, and with them, the power of the Master and the Hunt
faded in human minds. Christianity and the word of the Prophet were
the dominant faiths. Perish the thought that they might actually
agree. Perish the thought indeed, because it would have meant that
the Anghelescu Pack, once I became Alpha, would have not had the
success that it did. We knew we had to fit in with the human world,
so we taught ourselves to work the land, to grow food, to appear no
different from our neighbours. We became the bread makers, we
became wine makers, ensuring that our work was considered amongst
the best. Ours were the foods that would form the wedding feasts of
those humans living around us. We became the antithesis of
Hellhounds. Who would think to look for creatures of the dark in a
flour mill or tending vines on the hill side?

In more recent
years, since the last of the great wars fought on European soil, I
have moved my Pack from Europe to the Northern American continent.
Again we chose to settle in the mountains, but this time, in
upstate New York. This time our business endeavours took a
different turn, and we turned our mechanical skills, learned over
the war as we endeavoured to keep our businesses running, to
motorbikes, that symbol of the disenfranchised and the modern
outlaw, just the sort whose anger and rage would feed us as
Hellhounds. We also developed a focus on another little weakness of
the humans of this country in which we found ourselves: their
declared right to bear arms. No problem. We established one of the
largest gun dealerships in the area, catering for everything from
the paranoid who had to carry a gun always, to the leisure hunter.
Whether you wanted a rifle to take part in winter biathlon
competitions, or whether you wanted something to go duck hunting:
Anghelescu Enterprises would supply you with your requirements. But
all this did not provide her with the souls that she needed. For
that, my Pack and I had to hunt further afield, but find those
souls we did. Thus, ironically, even as the Master’s power waned,
our Queen retained her strength, and through her, as her Alpha, I
grew in my own abilities.

In my human
form, those around me will look at me and describe me as handsome.
In human terms I stand over 6ft 5in tall, with shoulder-length
black hair, the mark of the Anghelescu Pack. My build is lean. I
believe the term is ‘whipcord’, as a result of constantly training
myself in the various fighting disciplines which I favour.
Generally, I hide my build, but equally, when I relax with my Pack,
I don’t hide. I have seen females react often enough in our bar of
an evening to know that my form is appealing. I may not be bulky,
but I have what they want. I swim regularly, unsurprising when one
considers the importance of water in what I am and can do with it.
Humans look at me, at the large motorbikes which I favour as my
mode of transport, and they can’t understand why a ‘skinny pretty
boy’ can manage that size of machine. Maybe they should believe
what they see before their own eyes. The bike means that I tend to
wear leather a lot. The comfort of well-fitted leathers can’t be
denied when riding, and I see no reason why I should not take
pleasure in what I wear. Similarly, I choose to wear natural
fabrics. Again, why should I not enjoy the pleasurable feel of silk
or fine cotton on my skin? Humans, with their ridiculous moral
qualms may struggle with this, but I am what I am. Without a doubt,
humans would look at the relatively young appearance of the CEO of
Anghelescu Enterprises and see a handsome and physically fit
individual, who knew his business, having learned from his father,
and his father before him. Yes, I feel like yawning each time I
hear that. These humans take a pathetic delight in being able to
trace themselves back more than a paltry hundred years. Perhaps it
is because this land of America is still so young, relatively
speaking, and certainly in comparison to the civilisations of
Europe. So, being able to say that the Anghelescu family could
trace their origins to the Middle Ages and before, it added to the
credence of our story, and the reason for our extensive skills in
what we did.

I take
pleasure in a lot of things: exercising my powers over water and
air. Using the ability over fire which is only natural to a
creature of Hell, also brings pleasure. Hearing the screams of
humans as they perish in the flames of explosions that are an
unfortunate, for them, side-effect of my powers is another thing to
bring me pleasure. This world has too many of the pond scum. I
could kill hundreds each day, and it would still be no different to
what they do to their own species over concepts such as ‘politics’
and ‘religion’. I take pleasure, as I have said, in riding a
motorbike. I take pleasure in the fact that my sister, Roxana, has
grown into a strong and healthy Hound, with her own set of powers
which compliment my own. I enjoy the thrill of the hunt and the
flash of fear from my prey at the moment of the kill, when they
realise what is that will be killing them. I enjoy screwing with
the fragile psyche that so many humans have, which they try to hide
behind bravado, but yet, somehow, they fail, enabling me to read
them like an open book. I know that the businesses that I run
topside have elements that are considered to be against human law,
but for me, I service a need. Humans, the weak creatures that they
are, become addicted to artificial means of achieving their
pleasures. I am catering to their requirements, be it alcohol, or
other substances. That my method of supply means that they become
addicted that much faster is simply good business practice on my
part. As time has progressed, other Hellhound Packs have moved
topside, realising that this was the only way they could continue
to feed their deposed Queens, and the ‘competition’ increased. Some
would like to claim that they would like to take the moral high
ground, and say that they don’t regard humans as disposable in the
way that I do. But, I would respond that at least I am honest about
how I feel about this far too numerous species.

Why did I go
to the trouble of making myself appealing to the humans? Had I
allowed my human form to be unappealing, it would have been far
more difficult to achieve anything in this world of pond-scum
humans. So, to do what I must for my Pack, I have shaped my human
form into something that they see as normal, and appealing. Then
they wonder why I hold them in such low regard? There are some who
seem to have a perspective that if something is too good to be
true, it probably is. They treat me with perhaps more caution, but
when it matters, my lean, tall figure, which hides the whipcord
muscle, coupled with my looks means that they eventually agree with
what I want them to do. If they don’t, it is not a problem. I will
kill them. See, not a problem anymore.

So, why do I
feel qualified to make such a judgement over humans? I have been
walking this world of humans for a long time. They measure their
all too short lives in decades, and seem to think that reaching
their seventh or eighth decade and maintaining their health is a
good thing. I suppose when that is all the time you have, it seems
like a reasonable achievement. However, when you are a species
which will continue to outlive them on this world, a mere eighty
years is nothing. In the time I have walked this world, I have seen
what the species of human have done to themselves and to each
other. The bad? That outweighs the good by a considerable margin. I
use their definitions of bad and good in that. Our species has
walked this world when humans first worked out written and printed
communication, and the power that the written word could have on
those who could not understand it. We have seen religions rise and
fall. We have seen humans live their lives out grubbing in the soil
for their pathetic existence, and the use of religion to convince
themselves that there must be something better after they die, and
their pathetic corpses rot. We have seen empires rise and fall. I
have seen wars and levels of aggression that make my heart sing,
for the souls that such violence generates for my Queen.

Occasionally,
I have seen purity. I have seen humans who try to make the lives of
others better for no reason and certainly for no reward. Yet, their
deeds are outweighed by the deeds of those who claim to be trying
to make the lives of ‘benighted’ souls better. Only it is better by
their definitions. Did that native in the jungle really need to
know about the world outside? I doubt he needed to know about the
diseases that these strangers brought to them; diseases which they
had no chance of fighting, and thus, caused them to die in their
hundreds, if not thousands. Without a doubt, greed is one of the
driving factors of this human species. Wanting what others have.
Doesn’t matter if that is land, possessions, a husband or a wife or
all of the above things. In the time I have been walking this world
of humans, it strikes me as that is the thing that makes them stand
out. Well, that and aggression.

Wars. Let’s
face it, the humans have had a lot of them also. Each time they go
to war, whether it is a city state of Ancient Greece fighting with
another city state, or countries or empires, the result is the
same. Death stalks their world, and is more than happy to indulge
their wishes. If one were to watch them over the centuries, I doubt
this species will ever change, and thus, they leave me with plenty
of opportunity to serve both my own desires and those of my Queen.
There is a special kind of despair that permeates a warzone. There
are aggressors on both sides, and it is not impossible for a Hound
to give a slight push of encouragement should they falter. Before
your human morals kick in, let me remind you, one of the reasons I
am topside is to ensure that my Queen has a steady supply of souls.
Souls are dead people. For souls to be available to her, their
human bodies have to die and the most efficient way to ensure this
happens is through things like wars, like genocides, like
massacres. I and the rest of my pack were created to serve my
Queen, and serve her I will. Of course, my task is made easier when
humans just choose to kill. This is where the psychopaths and the
serial killers come into the equation. The sadists produce the most
delightful waves of fear, pain and terror from their victims,
particularly if those attentions are unwelcome. Fair enough, I have
had to endure their attentions in the course of my training, but it
has made me stronger, and thus I cannot say that I regret the
situation completely. Strength is necessary for an Alpha. I protect
not just myself, but my Pack, a difference which stands between me
and my predecessor, and a difference I am proud to maintain.

A word about
my enemies. They are the enemies of my Queen.  Like us, they
were spawned from the blood of the Huntsman. They are creatures of
Hell, but they chose their Pack name as Lupei. Who are they trying
to convince? Certainly not me, and certainly not my Queen. There
was a time when she was the beloved of the Huntsman. He created us,
after he had created our enemies, so that his, at the time, beloved
Queen and mother of his heir, might have her own protectors. Then,
his heir perished during a winter hunt, and our Queen could not
give him another. So, he put her aside, and choose another female
to be his new Queen. Where do you think the phrase, “Hell hath no
fury like a woman scorned.” came from? Our Queen’s fury has not
abated in the centuries since she was put aside. She lost her Lord,
her child and her position in one move, leaving another to reign
over her, and no, she did not like it in the slightest. I can’t say
that I blame her. So, in addition to harvesting the souls that she
desires, my Pack is also tasked with causing hurt to our former
Master in a way that will matter: by causing pain and suffering to
his Lupei Pack. Whilst they had originally fled the wrath of the
Master and chose to hide topside in what was then a deserted part
of the world, it is now anything but deserted. Like us, they have
chosen to make a home for themselves topside. In this modern era,
they chose to exploit the physical side of the human character, by
opening a club catering for those wishing to purchase sex, and
other physical pleasures. My Pack, on the other hand, partially
stayed true to the traditions of our origins. In the ‘old country’,
we had been farmers and wine-makers, but we have also diversified,
as the humans say. When one has years of experience in the use of
weapons, one finds that humans will pay good money to own the
products of our knowledge and the skills we have acquired over
time. As a result, our Pack lives in undeniable luxury and comfort
… now. That had not been the case when I was a juvenile, and it is
something that I can say I did well on becoming Alpha.

So, you humans
reading this, have I put you off from wanting to read further? I
doubt it. As scathing as I may be about your race, your prurient
curiosity will drive you to read further. Can I really be that bad?
Surely, I must have some redeeming factors? Maybe I will undergo
some major epiphany, which will change me into a better …
creature.

I doubt
it.

Do not try to
find something good in me. I would not want to disappoint you,
after all. But, if you wish to continue to dig into what makes me
tick, then know this. You will see what makes me tick. You will see
what is important to me. You will see violence, and you will see
death. That is who I am: the Alpha of the Anghelescu
Hellhounds.