A long time ago, at the edge of a desolate abandoned village a woman sat on her knees with her head bowed in deference. The snow that fell blanketed the sky, the earth, and the woman in white. However even amid this pure white baptism, patches of black and red and brown forced their way through like gaping wounds.
The small group of buildings behind her were rustic at best, some of their roofs had started to cave in and most of their windows had been broken. Splintered wood and broken doors added to the desolate silence of the forgotten village.
At the very center of the small cluster of buildings was a well, the wooden arch that adorned it had splintered and fallen into ruin with its bucket nowhere to be found.
The only structures that seemed to be completely in tact were the almost alien trees that dotted the area like skeletal wraiths.
Even as the woman lay, head bowed in reverence a fine mist seemed to slowly and gently creep its way forward, caressing the untouched snow as it deftly encircled her crouched form.
It was clearly something unnatural, nothing made this more apparent than its point of origin. It all came from a single point a few feet in front of the woman, leaking out of nothing like devilish tendrils.
After encircling her it slowly began to grow like a spreading stain. It eagerly encompassed the entire forgotten village, in mere moments the entire surroundings had been devoured by it. The woman who had been still for the most part began shuttering and shivering, an involuntary groan escaping her old frozen lips.
As if spurred on by the bite of this merciless cold that had entered the air she spoke, her voice cracked and faltering. “O-o-oh Ancient One-n-n… A-are you-ou th-ther-there?”
Each shiver and spasm interrupted her prayer and yet she pressed onwards as though she were forcing every ounce of air from her lungs.
“W-wayw-ward D-Daeva...th-this t-tired old w-woman b-besee-eeches you...”
After those faltering, spastic words of prayer silence once again came rushing in like the tide.
However a change had come into the air, the mist that had been leaking out of the air stopped completely, it hung over the snow like a mirror.
Then, without breaking the silence, it happened. The snow that lay on the trees, on the buildings, everywhere but the ground began to slowly converge together. Like metal sand seeping towards a magnet.
On each surface a small orb amassed itself. Regardless of the amount of snow on each surface the orbs were of equal size and counted seven in total. Each orb was twice the size of the praying woman and together they formed a circle with her at its center.
Then from each one a thing started to force its way into shape. Two oblong and bestial appendages emerged, digging into the very air itself. These pure white tendrils of snow began to roughly rip themselves free of their bindings, sending snow cascading down like sand in an hour glass.
Yet amid all the white of the landscape one could never see these cascades reaching the ground. They could never get farther than the mist.
After a painstaking ten minutes, the shapes had finally freed themselves, to look at their very basic structure they were great wolves reaching a height of six feet when on all fours. However simply describing them as wolves did their eldritch appearance a disservice.
Some had extra legs sticking out at odd angles, a front leg reaching at a ninety degree angle from the hind of one, a hind leg haphazardly hanging from where the front should be. Some were missing legs, sporting as few as one or none. It was as though they’d been haphazardly stuck onto their torsos by a blind man.
Their strangeness didn’t stop at limbs however, the same haphazard placement extended to eyes, to tails, to tongues. Their eyes of sapphire blue were also not of fixed placement. Like an overripe fruit flowing down a gentle stream they gently flowed down and throughout their torsos.
The oblong portion jutting out at odd angles from their “head” began to shake and vibrate, a jagged crack tearing the strange protrusion in two sending rivers of snow into the void. Tearing itself larger and larger to form gaping maws from which collectively the sound of roaring wind could be heard.
With their ghostly howl finished the seven collectively let loose a sigh, expelled like steam from an engine. The white vapor ejected from them slowly rose into the air like small clouds before stopping abruptly and freezing over entirely and finally melting back into fog and dispersing.
With that as a signal the seven collective leapt from their perches and landed on the mist as if it were as solid as the land it hung over. Together they silently began to encircle the lone devout woman. Some stalked around her in a clockwise manner, while others did so counter clockwise.
Whenever two would meet, instead of colliding they would walk through each other. Merging together before separating and in doing so leaving a limb, an eye, a snout, or a tail behind. This continued for several cycles before five converged on where the origin point of the mist that had been and the two remaining silently trotted up on either side of the praying woman.
The wolf to her right bore eight eyes, as blue as the deepest and clearest sea, while the one to her left sported three snouts jutting off its face at right angles in a T formation.
The five that all merged together had become a blob of limbs, heads, and bodies. The pieces of each wolf began to flow together, writhing and squirming as if each had a set place in which it should be and each was drawn there.
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Finally the mass of wriggling limbs stilled as it coalesced into the shape of a giant wolf head, excess limbs and body parts dangling off it like fur. With a loud groan, like the sound of a thick sheet of glass being put under a large amount of stress its mouth stretched open. Pulling and stretching, tearing and ripping, until its gaping maw was wider than should be possible for it.
Throughout this strange, beautiful, and terrifying display the woman made no move. She continued her reverent prayer hunched over as she was. Even her shuttering seemed to have subsided, though whether it was through fear alone one could only speculate.
She however did not have to wait much longer, a voice sounded from the maw of the great wolf head. Like the soft sound of bells on a summer evening, carried by a gentle breeze it drifted into her frozen ears.
“oh my oh me, just what has sought to cross into our domain? A slip of a dam with no sire it seems. We are not interested in prey that cedes its life and exposes its neck at the very beginning, be swift lest our interest wain.”
The being that spoke could be clearly seen inside the maw that lay before the woman. It was humanoid in shape reclining on a throne of hides; those of animal, human, and other things unrecognizable from this world.
With skin of an uncanny alabaster, its body seemed toned and masculine yet it was also slender and feminine creating an uncanny androgynous beauty. The thing bore a rich crimson cloak around its shoulder with trim of white fur draping its entire being and obscuring most of the details of its body save its limbs.
Its hair was a rose color, cascading down over its shoulders with a sheen not dissimilar to that of a pearl. Though the most striking thing about this creature was its eyes, a deep, pure, radiant crimson that pierced the very air and drew all gazes to them.
It was a thing of beauty, and yet it was that same beauty that gave all who gazed upon it an uncanny unease. In a world full of imperfection, to glance upon one such as it was to glimpse at madness. It was more a thing wearing the shape of a human, a convincing fake that belied true chaos.
It was only after a few moments that its voice found purchase in the frozen woman’s brain, and its words finally gave themselves meaning. Silently and serenely the woman raised her torso, while keeping her head bowed reverently. Her gray blonde hair riddled with frost hung down from her bowed head, and in her arms could be seen a small bundle.
“Oh sympathetic one.”
The shivering and stuttering was gone from her voice, she’d frozen beyond being cold. Her body that had been racked with spasms was now deathly still.
“This humble woman, has but one small request to ask of thee.”
The thing didn’t move at all, simply looking down upon the wretched mass of flesh and cloth before it. The weighty silence hung between the two, like venom dripping into water.
Finally it broke the silence, its voice coiling around the old woman’s senses like the faint smell of flowers on a spring evening.
“And just what does a mongrel like you have to request? A cursed wretch lying at death’s door, we’ve seen plenty of your ilk. The dead and dying hold no interest to us.”
Even as it berated the mass of cloth and hair that lay at its feat not a single ounce of derision entered its tone. It was a sing song tone, like the placid surface that reflects the misty morning’s dawn.
“P-please… oh great one...”
Then, slowly she began raising her arms towards the creature, in them lay a small bundle of cloth wrapped tightly. The movement itself was unnatural, everything else was still save her arms, it gave the feeling of a puppet performing on stage.
“The blight is about to overtake this town… my husband and I, refused to leave as this was our-”
“You waste our time, for each breath you waste a limb shall be taken as recompense.”
“O, Ancient One… you may take what you wish from this tired old body… All this humble old woman asks is that you take this child and keep her safe.”
The child in questions was still inside its wrapping. Whether it was dead or simply sleeping could not be seen at a glance.
The pure white wolf with eight eyes nudged the cloth a bit with its nose before returning to its vigil over the frozen woman.
The thing on its throne narrowed its burning crimson eyes, before leaning its cheek upon a fist that seemed as delicate as gossamer.
“Let’s end this farce shall we crone? You know we are nothing as divine as you pretend us to be.”
Even in its gentle, radiating voice the dull edge of disinterest had entered. Like a songbird singing into the void.
“Neither god nor devil would venture this close to our realm, all you’ll find here is us and our ilk.”
“Please o’ great one… if you are there... just answer this old woman’s last prayer...”
In its reclining pose it heaved a delicate sigh, before making a dismissive motion with a third alabaster hand that appeared to be floating in the darkness behind it.
The eyeball wolf slowly began to turn to dust, each individual snowflake that made up it breaking away from the rest like grains of sand. It’s pure crystal eyes followed the flow of snowflakes, like lilypads swept down a stream.
The snowflakes mixed with the mist, and the sapphire eyes glided along the mixture to encircle the woman like scuttling spiders. Each one staring through the frozen woman and child, each one appraising some unknown value.
“We have no obligation to listen to you ingrate, we are neither the god you pray to nor have the capacity to hold this sympathy you seem to expect in us. Corpse of a woman, the reasons we have to refuse your plea is more numerous than stars in the sky.”
The eyes still maintained their encirclement of the woman, who in turn remained still. The thing sat quietly with a bored look on its face before finally breaking the silence again.
“And yet, wouldn’t it be interesting if regardless of those trifles we did so anyway? Indeed, sometimes contrarianism is the door that leads to greater intrigue.”
It raised a fourth gossamer arm in the darkness and with a dainty flourish snapped its fingers. Innumerable arms of alabaster broke the darkness outstretched in welcome.
“Rejoice woman of faith, though your prayers go unheard by your god, though the home you cherish has been eroded away, you do not go unnoticed.”
A crescent smile slowly crept across its delicate features, slowly and deliberately like cracks in ice. As it continued its soliloquy the remaining wolf slowly opened its three maws peeling open its face giving the impression of a flower whose petals were littered with curved spikes of ice.
In a long, slow movement the eating wolf slowly enveloped the infant and the mother’s hands into its maw, down to the middle of her forearms. Each fang seemed to gently fold in on itself like a snakes, prizing the bundle of cloth free and enticing it deeper into the void.
“We have sacrificed our precious time on you, be grateful. Should our investment prove unsatisfactory know that we shall wring whatever enjoyment to be had until we are satiated.”
And with those closing words it was over. The flower closed with two resounding snaps, like two twigs breaking underfoot. With that all that remained of the woman’s arms were two stumps with jagged wounds as if her hands and wrists had been forcibly torn from her.
The wolves quietly became dust, the mist dispersed as for the first time that night the clouds above parted, shining moonlight on the empty scene.
The shadow of a nearby tree crept across the motionless old woman, and yet still she remained. Statuesque as she was one could be forgiven for thinking that she never had moved in the first place, a part of the forgotten land that had been there for time immemorial, and will continue to be for years to come.