Fantasy / Paranormal

"Werewolf - there's nothing else it can be. Real wolves don't move like that, don't grow that damn big. Its paws are as big as Daryl Walker's hands and the eyes... Did you see?"

Jack took a moment to respond, his mind had been busy replaying the scene in slow motion. "Yeah, I just freeze framed him."

Hugh snorted, "I forgot you could do that. Got a print out too?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "His eyes are human. Nothing else they can be. His skeleton isn't all wolf either, especially the skull. If we can match any of the anomalies to a person we'll have our werewolf."

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 11, 2015.
General

Though it was still silent like the pre-dawn always is, in that darkness devoid of birdsong, there came a musky scent tinctured with rancid breath. Ben was awake as always, trying to figure out how to live through his next day in the mill without breaking his back or worse when he caught the scent. The rumours of the werewolf pack were rampant in the village and though he thought it "stuff and nonsense" he kept a modified cricket bat next to the bed. He'd hammered nine inch nails right through to the other side so that it bore more resemblance to a medieval mace than something for sport. He nudged Claire and placed a gentle hand over her mouth, she roused and pulled herself to sitting. Then he made his way toward the doorway that lead to the only other room of their stone cottage. There were three of them, but it was odd, they were playing cards at the table like they still had half-human minds - so much for being unable to curb their killer instincts. Ben turned to Claire and gestured toward the window, it was the only way out. She nodded and went to push the glass open. A furry face appeared almost instantly and she screamed.

The card players looked round with wolfish grins and stalked over to the bedroom, glaring at Ben with his weapon. With Claire behind him he stood resolute. Then the largest werewolf spoke. "We don't want you man, we want the woman - far more tender. Stand aside and live." In answer Ben raised the bat higher. The werewolf continued, "We played cards for her, I won. So you see, she's mine." At his words a drool of saliva rolled thickly from his rubbery lips and he took a step forwards. Ben didn't blink, didn't move, didn't speak. There was no negotiating with devils such as these, the only answer they were going to get was a face of nine inch nails. Then in the morning he'd get a community search going for people with similar injuries and kill them in their human form...

General

I turn at Awena's exclamation to find a large cream colored wolf’s paw on her knee.
“Red.” Jade chides.
Ciara’s wolf head bumps my hand and I start slightly, and then place my hand on her head.
Ciara, her large amber eyes worried, looks up and I met her gaze shortly then look at her nose where it rested on my knee.
One of the other wolves lets out a rumbling growl and Ciara looks over at the light gray and cream wolf with raised ears and half raised hackles.
“My Ivan does not like you.” McKenna says with a smug smile. “You reek of snake musk.”
Ciara lets out a rich, low, warning growl, her lips pulling back to show large, dagger like fangs two inches in length and as white as ivory. Larger than Ivan’s.
Ivan turns his ominous golden gaze on her, his snarl pulling his lips away from his razor-sharp canines again as his ears flatten.
“Stop!” Jade yells as Ciara rises and stands with her back to me, watching the other wolf with ears perked forward and her lips curled back.
Connor whines from where he sat in front of Awena, his ears flattened against his head and a worried look in his gold eyes as he watches the beginnings of a fight.
Ivan stands across from Ciara and his hackle rise at the same time, his tail quivering and bristled. The warehouse is silent for a short instant before he lets out a loud snarl and takes a slow, threatening, step forward, lunging for me without warning.
Ciara leaps into him, making him fall back against his mate and shifting his attentions to her.
He lunges for her throat and she bolts away with Ivan in hot pursuit, leading him away from the mates; jumping onto a large plywood packing box and turning to face her pursuer with her body crouched low and her teeth bared in a snarl; like a formable shadow with gold eyes.
“Ajax.” Jade says and I turn to find the mates in a bare corner hidden from view of the front door, the rest of the wolves in a half ring to protect them if the fighting wolves got to close.

By cruson34horses, March 2, 2015.

Found in The Fire Witched Called Ciara, authored by Samantha Cruson.

General

Jason lets out a shuddering breath, looking at me warily as he inches toward the porch and the group standing there.
I watch Ajax until Jason is on the porch then crouch down in a playful bow, my tail up and waving prettily, letting my jaw unhinge in a playful wolf grin.
Ajax raises a brow. “What? Want to play?”
I rise and nod, Barking and dancing around in happy circles as he leaps over the porch railing and lands knee deep in a snow drift.
I crouch and growl playfully, darting sideways when Ajax pulls himself free of the snowdrift and dives for me, landing face first in another snow drift.
“You little vixen! Get back here!” Ajax demands, rolling to his feet and chasing after me, his deep steps growing deeper as he follows me across the meadow.
I bark when I feel Ajax yank playfully on my tail, hearing Awena’s peal of laughter.
We play in the snow before I pin him gently, sticking my cold nose under his wool sweater and winter coat, tickling his stomach.
He lets out a startled laugh, wiggling in my hold to free himself and to get away from my cold nose. “Enough! Enough! That tickles!”
I stop and stand above him, wagging my tail back and forth quickly, grinning the entire time.
“Now look what you’ve done, honey. I’m all wet and so are you. What have you got to say for yourself?” Ajax demands playfully, his eyes shining with amusement.
I grin and lick his nose before shaking myself mostly dry, stilling when Awena cries, “Jason, don’t!”
Ajax looks past me then looks me in the eye, “Run, Ciara.”
I sprint into the cover of the trees with Connor, hearing him yelp in pain after a shot is released. I look back at the very edge of the deep forest as two more shots goes off, one skimming my cheek and the other hitting high on my shoulder.
The pain draws a yelp from me and I turn to run further into the woods, hearing the gun explode one more time, a tree to my left exploding as I shoot past it, stumbling to the ground and laying there in pain, panting.

By cruson34horses, March 2, 2015.

Found in The Fire Witched Called Ciara, authored by Samantha Cruson.

General

From the shadows comes a wolf, yet he's no ordinary predator. He moves to block the gun cabinet, staring with almost human eyes. The only sound in the entire house is his breathing, his flaring nostrils as he takes in Kali's scent. He curls up his gums to reveal yellow stained teeth and then lets out a low rumbling growl. Kali already knows her fate, in seconds her throat will be ripped out, her flesh consumed, blood staining the a pale sheep skin rugs.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 11, 2015.
Fantasy / Paranormal

In the clearing was a pack of werewolves, no natural wolf was so large. Teeth gnashed in a frenzy of feeding, the remnants clearly human. Tony watched from his tree branch, focusing on keeping his breathing as quiet as possible. Wolves couldn't climb trees but he didn't know if these creatures could. Likely his scent would be drown out by the odour of fresh blood on the forest floor...

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 11, 2015.
Fantasy / Paranormal

The werewolf slunk like he was a part of the shadow world, only visiting the mortal creatures to feed. His heart was cold and his mind had no room for pity. For his "heaven" was one with many victims to consume, victims who became paralyzed with fear before he dined on their soft flesh. Their cries were music to his ears, their blood the finest perfume. To watch them suffer was his serenity, his joy. But his greatest satisfaction lay in taking away loved ones; he could taste the difference. Knowing that he'd struck a blow into the lives of their families and friends was sickly sweet, intoxicating, more addictive even than the flesh.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 11, 2015.
Fantasy / Paranormal

The cages had become a must at full moon - one for every team member. No-one knew if they'd been bit deep enough on the last raid to get the infection; everyone had agreed to death over living as pure evil. A gust of onshore wind moved the cloud layer to allow a silvery shaft onto every person. Should anyone transform they would be the first kill of the night, but never the only one.

Kayla screamed. The blood ran from every face as she collapsed to the floor, skin bubbling and bones transforming. Once the buzzer sounded all the doors unlocked and seven silver bullets went into her skull. It wasn't the start of the night anyone wanted, but it was part of the job. A heroes life, a heroes death, a personal sacrifice, an honourable spirit. When the dawn came she'd be buried with her most beloved pair of boots and crucifix. No-one in town would know she didn't die fully human and her name would be added to roll call of warriors.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 11, 2015.
General

His greasy, greying skin split like tree bark. Wiry black hairs sprouted. His once kindly brown eyes melted into a heavier, more ruddy colour. His bones moved under his skin like mechanical snakes; audible cracks sliced through her and she felt her feet cement into the ground. He was not himself anymore; he was a monster.

By hunter, November 2, 2017.