Moonlit Massacre ((Lucinda))

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

Hart rode cautiously forward, his double-rifle at the ready, eyes scanning the moonlit countryside around him.

Nearly as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but scrub lands: open, sprawling plains, with only a handful of trees, and short, gnarled bushes. At the edge of his vision, Hart could make out a treeline though, so there was a bit of forest within walking or riding distance. But otherwise, this particular trail was completely and totally open, which would make an ambush, or an attack in general, very, very unlikely...

So, why were there three burning wagons and a dozen or so mutilated bodies strewn about the path ahead of him?

Scanning the surrounded area with his rifle, Hart rode in closer, the smell of smoke and blood getting stronger as he neared. Once he reached the first of the bodies, he dismounted and knelt down, examining it, rifle leaning against his shoulder. The body--that of a young man--was still warm, the blood still fresh and flowing from the wound that'd killed him: a messy stab wound to the chest. It looked like it'd been made by a very rough instrument, nothing as sharp edged as a knife or sword...

Frowning, he stood and slung his rifle over his back, drawing his 1877 Colt Thunderer instead. In these closer quarters, the revolver would prove to be much, much more useful than the cumbersome rifle, if not as powerful. Taking the reins of his horse--who was nervous from the smell of blood, and the heat of the burning wagons--Hart led the animal a bit off the trail, tying it to a nearby bush before wandering deeper into the massacre.

From what he could tell, all of the people had been killed in the same way: that nasty, unusual chest wound. And the people themselves ranged from about seven or eight years old, all the way up a few old-timers. Male and female. No apparent pattern, other than plain old wanton destruction. The wagons still sat on their four wheels as they burned, though the horses were long gone, probably stolen by whatever had killed the travelers...

Valuables, weapons, supplies? All gone as well.

"Damn me..."

[LUCINDA AVERY]

A warm liquid escaped from Lucinda’s side and pooled underneath her while staining her gray and white fur that coated her body. She breathed heavily, pain shooting through her entire body as she did so. Her nose crinkled to the thick smell of smoke that had a thick layer of blood and death laced into it. Opening her eyelids, her amber hues looked upon the countless bodies that laid all around her, soaked in their blood, their neighbor’s blood, and had stab wounds. The bodies that she was looking at were those of the children that she tried protecting, but she was outnumbered and they were stronger… and they came at her carrying silver knives. This time they were seriously intending on killing her. She survived, she always survived, she always survived to look upon the body count that she was beginning to rack up.

All these people wanted to do was give a ride to a tired and hurting young woman who had been walking for countless hours. Lucinda knew that she shouldn’t have taken the offer from them, but she was just so tired, and they offered her to sleep in the back of one of the wagons. It was an offer that she couldn’t resist, so she had climbed into the back of one of the patty wagons and fell into a deep sleep. However the screams and rushed stopping by the people that she was traveling with startled her from her sleep and pulled the wagon curtain back to look to see that one of the wagons that were carrying their personal belongs was on fire.

She knew what was going on. The pack had caught up to her and now they were here. Lucy didn’t think that they were that close to her, she did everything that she could to keep her scent masked as best as possible. They shouldn’t have been able to find her; there was just no way… Lucinda tried telling everyone to get back into their wagons and keep moving, trying to get them away from danger as fast as possible, but it was no use. The members of her previous pack were just so strong and fast that in half the time it took to light the wagon fire, they were already killing people.

Lucinda had shifted right before their eyes in an attempt to protect the young ones, but she had been quickly jumped on and stabbed with the silver knife by someone who had been close to her that she didn’t realize was around. A howl in agony escaped her as she shook him off and then went to chomp his arm off. He was still faster, he sliced the blade across her muzzle getting the sting just right to make her flinch away and shake her head violently. Lucinda fought them off as best as she could, but they continued to slice and stab into her flesh with their silver knives. For a few moments, they left her there to bleed as they continued and finished the job with such sinister laughter that it made Lucinda cower in fear.

However, someone – or something – had startled them enough to grab the horses, take the necessary supplies and take off. She had no idea who or what it was, but in the distance she could hear the heavy steps of a horse that huffed out a breath to the heavy smell of blood around them. Softly she heard someone descend from his steed and lightly touch upon the ground. He smelled heavily of gunpowder, which most people that she had met did.

“Damn me…” His voice was soft but expressed the fact that he had seen this kind of thing before which meant several things, he was either a hunter or a military man. Someone who had seen this kind of destruction before, to be honest it didn’t matter who he was, Lucinda needed his help.

She wasn’t strong enough to hold onto her wolf form, so slowly and painfully she began to shift back to her state, where this time her wounds weren’t covered by fur to suppress some of the bleeding. She gushed with blood from the slice across her face, the stab wounds at her sides, arms, and legs. Shakily, she pushed her naked body up to stand and slowly began to stumble around one of the wagons that was on fire, in the distance she caught sight of the man that had arrived on the scene. With ever step that she took, blood spilled to the ground, causing her face to grow paler than usual.

“Help… me…” She whispered before dropping to her hands and knees to pant heavily, watching as the ground beneath her began to spin and blur. Her fingers dug into the ground in an attempt to hold onto her consciousness.

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

A soft voice caught Hart's attention.

Turning to face the sound, he kept his revolver ready, though he highly doubted he'd need it once he saw the source of the voice: a naked, bleeding young woman, staggering toward him. Immediately he was at her side, his free arm wrapping gently around her waist, trying to avoid any of her lacerations or other injuries. Very slowly and carefully, he lowered her to the ground.

"Just take it easy sweetie," he said softly, looking around for something to cover her with. With nothing in sight, he removed his long jacket and draped it over her.

From the look of her wounds, she'd been cut up pretty bad. He didn't have much in the way of medicinal supplies with him, but what he had would have to be enough. After reassuring her that he'd be right back, Hart quickly made his way back to his horse, eyes peeled for danger the entire time. Digging around in his saddle bags, the hunter pulled out the small leather satchel that contained his various medicines, bandages, needle and thread, and the like.

Gonna have to do this quick as possible, he thought as he made his way back to the girl. If whatever did this comes back, I might not be able to fight it off and protect her at the same time...

Once he reached the girl's side, he knelt down and opened his satchel, pulling out a clean cloth. Using that and a bit of water from his waterskin, Hart cleaned up most of her wounds as best he could, then set too applying salve and bandages to the ones that didn't need stitching up.

"My name's Hart," he told her, talking as he worked, hoping conversation might take her mind off of the pain a little. "You wanna tell me what happened here?"

[LUCINDA AVERY]

The stranger’s hands were extremely cold to her hot skin, hot because of the fire that she was just laying by and because of her normal body heat from being a loup garou. Deep down inside of her Lucinda started to wish that the human was just going to assume that she was overheating because of the four wagons that were currently on fire. She was much appreciative though that his touch was gentle, and he tried to avoid hurting her in anyway, although that was a little useless considering that Lucy had been covered in stab wounds, cuts, and bruises. She did the best that she could to fight off her attackers, but they were stronger than her… they always were.

Lucy reached out and grabbed onto Hart by his sleeve when she was beginning to feel herself lowering to the ground, completely unsure if he was placing her there or if she had been falling. Nonetheless, her answer had been given to her when her back lightly touched upon the dirt road.

“Just take it easy sweetie,” His voice was piercing to her ears and she couldn’t help but flinch. He was trying to be kind and speak softly, Lucinda knew, but her body was hyper sensitive as it was working into overdrive trying to heal itself. That wasn’t going to happen any time soon. If the hunting group had used anything other than silver knives, Lucy would’ve already been healed and running off by now. At this stage though, she was healing as fast as a human would be… which didn’t say much, she was pretty much dying.

She didn’t even notice the jacket over her or the fact that he had left her side for a few seconds to grab what he needed, she was completely out of it, her concentrating currently trying to get her to stay awake. Her head rolled back and forth a few times before she forced her eyelids to open wide. Everything was beginning to go numb and she was starting to feel as light as a feather, except for her head that suddenly felt like it was twenty pounds heavily than it truly needed to be. But it were her eyelids that felt the heaviest.

All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep…

“My name’s Hart.” His voice had kept her from drifting off and when she had noticed that he was trying to stitch up her wounds, she weakly pulled at her arm in protest, or at least she had thought that she pulled her arm away. It just actually sat there in his hands as he got busy at work. It only took her a couple of seconds to realize that the stuff that he was applying to her wounds stunk up to high heaven and she wanted to vomit…

Lucinda closed her eyes once more, gagging on nothing as she tried to talk. “L-Lucy…” She introduced, giving him a nod in greeting. She figured that he was trying to keep her awake, to make sure that he didn’t have a death on his hands. He didn’t have to worry though… God wasn’t that humble of a person to allow something as sweet as death grace upon Lucy.

“You wanna tell me what happened here?”

Oh yeah, sure. Everyone that you see laying around you? They’re all dead because of her. All because she had decided to take up on a ride that she never really should have taken in the first place, so everything that had happened here was her fault. There were countless bodies and gallons of blood all over the place because Lucy got selfish and didn’t want to walk anymore. Was she actually going to tell him that? Not really. She was going to warn him that those werewolves were still around and they were most likely going to be coming back and if they say him helping her they were going to kill him.

“Just… random attack…” She managed to whisper through her weakness. “T-There were… three of them…” Lucy huffed breathlessly and found herself beginning to drift off again and not even realizing it.

Everything was beginning to sound so distant but Lucinda’s ears were still working, and off in the distance she could hear the sounds of paws patting against the forest floor making their way towards them. Lucy twisted her face into a frown and she opened her eyes again, fear beginning to crawl up her chest and into her throat.

“Th-They’re coming back…”

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

She was a mess.

For a brief, stomach-lurching moment, Hart was certain that there was no way he could ever patch her up well enough to get her to a doctor. He pushed that fear aside though, letting his anger that someone had done this to all these people take its place. It was red-hot--as hot as Lucy's feverish skin beneath his hands--and it burned away any fear, any uncertainty.

He would save her. He had to.

As he'd worked, Hart had let his mind wander and try to piece together what'd happened here. There had been something so familiar about the scene, or rather the bodies in particular. Their lack of hearts had struck a chord in his memory that he'd been trying to trace back to its source. Then it hit him: werewolves. They feasted on the hearts of their victims. The jagged bluntness of the chest wounds easily could have been made by a hand digging into the body to reach the organ...

But if werewolves had been involved, how had Lucy ended up being stabbed nearly to death instead of having her own heart ripped out and eaten? What was it about her that had singled her out for such cruel punishment? And why had they stopped? Had they heard his approach and fled? Possible, yes, but Hart's intuition couldn't help but feel like there was more to this... A piece of the puzzle that he simply wasn't seeing.

Lucy's words about her attackers coming back snapped Hart out of his thoughtful daze. He scanned the surrounding countryside, squinting in the relative darkness and hoping to make out any sign of the would-be assailants. Nothing. He closed his eyes and strained his hearing to its limits, trying to pick up any hint of sound, of approaching people or animals. Again, nothing.

Then, it clicked.

The hotness of her skin... The reason she wasn't killed like the others... How she can apparently hear them coming, when I can't...

She was one of them. One of the werewolves. And the question was, had her own pack done this to her as some sort of punishment, or had she been injured by the people of the caravan as they'd struggled to defend themselves? It would have taken some specialized weaponry--namely, silver daggers--to do this kind of damage to the young woman... Had a hunter been riding with the wagons? Had they just been lucky?

But the more he thought about it, the more his gut told him that Lucy was as much a victim as the others. As to the other questions, well he'd worry about them when he wasn't in danger of being potentially mauled by a handful of werewolves.

Frowning, he unslung his double rifle from his shoulder, cracking it open at the breach and changing out his standard ammo for silver. He'd found that bullets made from the precious metal were the best thing to keep on hand, as shapeshifters, werewolves, and the like tended to be just about the most common monsters that he'd come across since he'd come out West. That, of course, didn't make them any less dangerous, but at least he knew how to handle them.

Looking around, Hart gently moved Lucy to the cover of an overturned wagon that'd smoldered out without burning too badly. Then he'd climbed up onto it and laid down, rifle at the ready, scanning the distant woodline. At this range he'd have no trouble hitting a target with the rifle, not even a fast moving target. Hart was an incredible shot.

"Which direction, Lucy? 'f I can get the jump on 'em, we might just make it through this."

[LUCINDA AVERY]

Lucinda wasn’t really the one to give away the fact that she might not be human to anyone, but this was the matter of life and death. Not for herself, but for the man that was so willing to help a girl that he didn’t even know, a girl that he didn’t even know was human. Yeah, Lucy could tell that he was a hunter. Hunters carried a certain scent on them that was hard to describe, but it was there and she could always tell them apart from normal people. Now the question was, was Hart going to stab her in the heart and end her misery? Or was he going to actually try and defend himself and protect her as their intruders were on their way.

It seemed that Hart wasn’t one of those hunters that killed every monster. She felt his hands scoop up underneath her and begin dragging her across the ground. Her eyes opened to reveal to the world their bright amber color as she lifted her head just enough to get another look at the horrific scene that had ultimately been caused by her. Lucy honestly couldn’t bare the sight of the bodies. She felt terribly guilty that everyone had to die just because she had been tired and wanted to rest for a little while. She felt that God was punishing her for being selfish and only thinking of herself, but of course, when she had accepted the offered ride, she had no idea that Joshua had sent out a new team of trackers to find her. As far as she was concerned, she had left them way back in the city and she was at least a couple of days out…

God her chest hurt so much from the guilt.

However, she was much more interested in what Hart was doing, her eyes never left him as he laid her down near the wagon, out of sight, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t smell her blood. As she listened to Hart climbing up onto the wagon prepared for the battle at hand, she took a moment to look over herself. He had done a very good job with patching her up, but she was still in so much pain and she could feel herself getting colder. Of course to someone else – like Hart – her skin was still burning hot, feverish. To her, she was cold, and it actually caused her teeth to chattering.

She tried to control it when she laid her head back down onto the ground, closing her eyes and focusing on the footsteps. There were three of them, and all three of them were walking at a human pace. There was just one problem… she couldn’t determine where they were coming from…

“I… I can’t tell…” her voice sounded so distant as she tried to hold onto consciousness. “But there’s… three of them… walking…” She pulled her eyebrows together, straining herself to continue to listen to the pattern of their walking. While doing so, she could usually determine whether or not they were in their wolf form or not, but it looked like they weren’t they were humans. “Human…” It was the only word that she could muster up the strength to say, hopefully Hart understood that she was trying to tell him that her attackers, the murderers were coming and they were in their human form.

It didn’t take long before they arrived, all three of them, at the same time, stepping out of the shadows of the tree line with the same sadistic smirk on their face. All three of them were male, but each of different build, the man on the right, he was the shortest one standing at five feet five inches. His dirty blond hair was really dirtier than necessary, indicating that he hadn’t showered in a few days. His skin was tan, and his eyes were amber that reflected the fire nicely, if he wasn’t a monster it would have been captivating, the way that the fire danced in his eyes. He approached with no shirt on, revealing several scars in the forms of bite marks on his arms and a few on his chest. The pants that he had on seemed a little too tight for his well built legs and it seemed that he had just recently taken them and turned them into shorts.

The middle, the leader of the tracking pack had the darkest hair out of the three them and he was biggest in height. He had long black hair that spilled his bangs over his forehead, but he kept it neatly back in a ponytail. His skin was darker and flawless compared to the other two, and his eyes strangely were not amber, but a deep brown of that of a Native American. He was much older out of them as well. He wore a necklace that hung low, sitting in the middle of his chest with a feather and a couple of beads. The one distinguishing feature about him was the deep and rigid scar that went from his right temple, across his right eye over the bridge of his nose and stopped at the left side of his jaw. He didn’t have a shirt on as well, but his pants looked new, but they were covered in blood. Yeah, that’s right, he got them off of the one of the victims that he had just torn apart.

The last werewolf, the one on the left, he was the second tallest but he was the thinnest actually. He was also bare, and winced from the light of the fire. His hair was a chocolate brown color and his eyes said nothing but confusion. He was new to the pack that sought out Lucinda, and he was just doing what he was told. New pack members had the hardest time refusing the orders of their alpha. The only thing that looked strong on him was his defined cheek bones and chin. Other than that the rest of him looked too thin and frail to really be considered a Loup Garou. Unlike the other two, he still had his shirt and his pants that were completely in tack and looked normal, except for the fresh blood that was stained on them. He wasn’t used to the shifting and had torn his clothing clean off of his body, so when it came time to confront the hunter that had disturbed them from their business he had to steal clothes from on his victims. Don’t let his innocent demeanor trick you… he thoroughly enjoyed murdering and eating the hearts of the families that they had mauled.

Each one of them had a distinct scent to Lucinda, and she recognized them all. Her eyes opened faintly, peering up through the burnt wood as if she could see Hart. “Right… left…” her sentences were becoming shorter as she was having a harder time holding onto reality. “Zachariah… Abey… Jonathan…” She huffed out weakness as she tried to move, almost like she was trying to get to her feet to protect Hart. “Native American… Abey… lead tracker…” Her voice was low, and her head rolled to the right. Her eyelids were suddenly heavily and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Abey had a smirk on his face as he stepped forward, watching the hunter on the wagon closely. He was prepared for Hart to begin firing and he had warned the other two just in case he had decided to shoot first and ask questions later. Honestly, as much as Abey wanted to eat the man’s heart, he was more interested on getting his hands on Lucinda to finish the job, the other humans were just something of sport… and they kind of got in the way.

“We’re just here to pick up the girl.” He said with a smirk on his face. “Hand her over.”

Little did Hart realize, they had actually planned ahead and they were prepared for the man to shoot… so whenever his finger got itchy enough, they were going to scatter. Zachariah had the best eyes out of the three and they had been concentrating the most on his hands, ready to shift his weight to let his two pack members know that he was going to shoot. Jonathan was the fastest because of his lanky size, he was prepared for the signal and as soon as it was given to him, he’d weave through the fire like lightning, knock the wagon hard enough to throw Hart off of and hopefully get his hands on Lucinda. Abey was the distraction, he’d keep the attention on the hunter on him, but they were all trained well, thanks to Joshua. The three of them were prepared to switch roles around immediately when they needed too.

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

Hart nodded at Lucy's words, though she probably couldn't see it.

He'd already been studying the three, choosing the one he thought would be the easiest target. The two on the right looked strong and capable, but the squirrely one on the far left was a different story. So, he was the one Hart focused on first. Lowering his face to look down the sights of his double-rifle, the young hunter took aim.

When the leader of the three loups demanded that he hand over the girl, Hart just snorted in contempt. Yeah, that was going to happen. The only response he gave was to fire off his first barrel at the scrawnier of the three, and he growled a bit in frustration as they scattered and rushed him. It was obvious they'd been planning this, but Hart still had the advantage, though they didn't know it: his double rifle allowed him an extra shot, when most guns would need to be reloaded right now.

The double rifle was something Hart was very, very proud of. He'd drawn up the plans for it himself, just a few months earlier. hart had been responsible for every part of the process to bring the firearm to life, and there were very few of them in existence. It was highly unlikely that any of these monsters would have encountered one before, especially here in the West.

So while the loups charged his position, full of themselves and confident in their superiority and safey, Hart kept a bead on the ratty looking one and pulled the other trigger.

The targeted loup dropped and tumbled several yards, finally skidding to a stop and letting out a low, agonized moan. His body twitched a few times, then went still. It had been a clean shot to the heart, one that Hart was both proud of and mildly surprised at. Luck, skill, it didn't really matter so long as the bastard was dead.

The hunter didn't have time to enjoy the shot though, as the other two enemies were quickly upon him. As the first one struck the wagon, Hart leaped forward, toward them, rather than away as they might have been expecting. When he hit the ground, he spun and used his now-empty rifle like a club, striking the nearest of the two loups in the side of the head while at the same time drawing his Thunderer revolver and taking aim at the other, the apparent leader of the trio.

Unfortunately for Hart, the pistol wasn't loaded with silver, and at best all it would do was irritate the loup, but it might buy him just enough time to get some distance between them. Without hesitation, Hart, turned and bolted, nearly slipping as he rounded the wagon and scooped Lucy into his arms again, not nearly as gently as he had last time. Once he had her, he made his way toward a burning wagon, hoping the brightness of the flames would distort his pursuers' vision and possibly disorient them, even if just a little.

Once he reached the wagon, Hart set Lucy down and set about quickly and efficiently reloading his Thunderer with silver bullets. He prayed he had enough time before the other loup garou reached him...

[LUCINDA AVERY]

If there was one thing that Hart was right about, it was the fact that they were not prepared for the double barrel rifle. In fact, the three werewolves did come prepared if they were going to run into a hunter or someone else with a weapon. But they were prepared for a bullet, and then they were expecting the ten to thirty second stop for the young hunter to reload his barrel and shoot again. The three of them were confident that they were going to be adding him to the pack fairly shortly…

That is, until he had pulled the trigger again and blew out Jonathan’s heart. Abey and Zachariah had stopped for only a second to watch as their comrade rolled through the grass, staining it with his blood, and then finally taking his final breath. They couldn’t stop their assault. Now the two of them were aware that he had a special kind of gun and they were going to take precautions. It was now time to eliminate the problem and get to the source.

Abey flicked his eyes towards Zachariah, the faster one, he rushed towards the wagon and as soon as he got close enough, he was taken aback from Hart’s leap forward and then clubbing him in the head. A spell of dizziness over took as he stumbled back, blood splattering from the force of the hit. As he stumbled, he tripped over his own two feet and dropped backwards onto the ground. Zachariah might have been the fastest, but he was definitely the slowest when it came to reaction time.

Abey growled inwardly to himself, lunging at the hunter and ready to tear his throat out, until a gun had been pulled from a hidden pocket on Hart and he had unloaded a round into his chest. Abey stumbled back, pain shooting through his chest as he placed his hand over the bullet wound. As the pain surged through his chest, his body began to get hot with anger. Suddenly, his entire body shook violently. His clothes tore from his body, fluttering to the ground as he charged forward. Abey’s large paws slammed against the ground causing it to buckle underneath him and leaving a rather large print. Silva fell from his lips as he growled in anger, following Hart’s scent. Just as Abey had shifted and followed after Hart, Zachariah had pushed up off of the ground, rubbing his head feeling his wound healing. He then followed his track leader.

Lucinda grunted as Hart scooped her up, causing her slow healing wounds to throb in pain, causing her whimper and pull into herself leaning against his chest. She had been listening to all of the ruckus, her ears ringing from the sounds of the bullets exploding from the gun. For a wolf that was two years old, her hearing was still rather sensitive. A cough had emitted from her as she had inhaled a large puff of the thick smoke and then she hissed through her teeth as pain surged through her ribs.

With a haze over her vision, Lucy opened her eyes to watch was Hart’s hands hurried with loading his gun with silver bullets. She couldn’t help but tense up as she turned her head away from her. Her mind was racing. The echoing of the screams of the families and the children as they were slaughtered, she thought about the pain of their teeth ripping through her human flesh just a few seconds before she shifted, the flashes of Lucy fighting her hardest against three werewolves flashed quickly before it came to an abrupt end as they then assaulted her with silver knives… now she had to listen to Hart load a gun with silver bullets. For just a second she thought that he was going to put her out of her misery, going to end her life so that she didn’t have to live with all of the guilt.

But her heart began to race. She didn’t want to die. She was only sixteen years old and in her mind, she never got the chance to live. Lucy told herself that as soon as she got the pack off of her back, she was going to give herself the chance to live whatever small amount of life that she had life. Her hand lifted from her side and touched lightly upon his knee. She turned her head back towards the hunter, ready to beg for her life… until she saw a black figure behind Hart come barreling through the flames, his jaws opened wide to reveal his vicious jagged teeth.

With sudden new found strength, Lucy sat up quickly her hand on Hart’s shoulder, shoving him to the side as she pushed herself from her knees into a standing position, her hands grabbing right on Abey’s jaws, holding his mouth open and stopping his powerful teeth from sinking into Hart and biting him into two pieces. Abey growled loudly, his terrible breath spilling into Lucy’s face. She couldn’t help but make a face and then turn her head away for a second, now she was looking at the Native American shapeshifter directly in the eyes, chills going up her spine as they made eye contact.

Lucinda’s arms were beginning to shake at the strength of Abey trying to chomp down on her arms. She tried to keep them open, her strength dwindling quickly because of all of her wounds. Her knuckles were white from gripping onto his teeth to hold him open. She wanted to shake his head hard to pin him to the ground, but she just didn’t have the strength, they were both lucky enough that she was managing it for this long. However, Abey was winning. Lucinda clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, grinding them down as she tried to use the sound of her teeth as determination to keep up with the work. Although she could hear some the stitching that

However from the corner of her eye, she could see Zachariah approaching Hart. She could only hope that by now Hart had his gun ready and he was up to fight. They were now at an even numbers, two on two. But Hart’s team was at a strong disadvantage, Lucinda was barely standing and with her stitches now ripped, her skin opening again, she was bleeding heavily once more. Her strength was disappearing, she could only hold off Abey for so long before she might be forced to shift to knock him back.

Gritting her teeth, she couldn’t help but find herself whispering. “Be ready for Zack…” her eyes glanced in Hart’s direction.

Zachariah had lifted his hand, bringing it down in a swift movement, clawing Hart’s arm open. “You should’ve just handed over the bitch!” He growled loudly, knocking Hart over again, lifting his foot to stop on him, hoping to break a couple of his bones.

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

Hart barely had time to react when he was shoved aside by Lucinda.

Suddenly, chaos erupted all around him as the two remaining loups sprang out of the shadows. Lucinda was already locked in combat with one of them, and she'd undoubtedly saved Hart's life when she placed herself between him and the monster. Shaking off his momentary shock, Hart was already prepared when the other loup launched a savage attack against him.

Forcing himself to shove his concern for Lucinda aside, Hart knew the best thing he could do to help her would be to kill his own opponent before joining her against her's. The shorter of the two loups was the one that Hart now found himself facing off against, but the hunter knew better than to judge an enemy by his appearance.

With an animalistic growl, the loup that Lucinda had called "Zack" lashed out at Hart, his fingers curled into claws that tore deeply into the hunter's arm, forcing him back before shoulder-checking him and knocking him to the ground. As the monster drew his leg back to stop on Hart, he rolled aside, wincing at the sound of the loup's foot smashing into the hard ground.

That gave Hart just the opening he needed.

Without hesitation, he drew a long silver knife from his belt and drove it through Zack's foot, pinning it to the ground and taking him out of the fight, at least for the moment. Ignoring Zack's angry, pain-laced howling, Hart rolled to his feet and took aim with his Thunderer, firing a single shot that buried itself in the loup's head, killing it instantly...

But not Zack's head.

The loup that Lucinda had been struggling against crumpled to the ground, dead. Hart had taken advantage of Zack being out of commission to instead dispatch of Lucy's opponent. It had been a close shot, with Lucy's own head so close, but Hart had faith in his aim, and as always that aim had been true. With the second loup dead, Hart returned his attention to Zack, ignoring the blood that ran steadily down his arm from his earlier injury.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't blow your god-damned brains out like I did your pal?" Hart said coldly, leveling his gun at the pinned loup.

[LUCINDA AVERY]

Zack’s foot hit the ground with a terrible power causing the ground to buckle and crack underneath him. The blow was meant for Hart’s chest, it was a shame that he had missed, after all that would’ve meant that Zack made an incredible feat. The only other person that had taken down a hunter was their pack leader Joshua.

Just as Zack turned toward Hart, a terrible burning sensation took over. The fire began in his foot and traveled up his blood stream. He roared, his voice scaring away any animals that haven’t run off already from the fire. He gripped his hair tightly and pulled at it as he continued screaming, completely oblivious to the sound of the gunfire.

Lucy wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to last. Blood was starting to pool around her at her feet, there were marks on the ground from where Abey had pushed her along the dirt. Her elbows were beginning to bend a bit as they shook with effort. Abey was much stronger than her, he was only significantly stronger than her right now because he didn’t have a bunch of stab wounds that came from a silver knife and he didn’t get jumped by three other werewolves. Both of them were actually really surprised that she was still standing. Lucinda knew that it was because of Hart’s presence that she was still on her feet. From his scent, she knew that he was a great hunter, but she wasn’t entirely sure how well he would fair against two shifters. Lucy didn’t want to risk it, she already saved his life. No one else was going to die helping her.

Abey leaned his head forward, trying to get Lucy to lean back so he could knock her to the ground. But she knew his tactics, so Lucinda leaned forward. Now she was dangerously close to his jaws. Lucy gritted her teeth and pushed him but he didn’t budge. She was going to have to shift, it was the only way that she was going to get him to backup. Just as she made the decision to do so, the sound of gunfire caught her off guard, causing her to jump.

Then suddenly the weight that Abey had been pressing on her disappeared and he dropped to the ground with Lucinda falling on top of him. Without knowing what had happened, Lucy jumped up quickly and backed away, expecting for him to jump up to attack her. Instead a pool of blood was starting right underneath his head. She felt relieved. She turned towards Hart and Zack.

Zack reached down and yanked the knife out of his foot. With a roar, he stood back up, snarling as his eyes flashed amber. Though he stopped dead in his track when he saw the hunk of fur that was Abey laying on the ground. Suddenly he didn’t know what to do anymore, his team leader was dead. He knew that the one thing that he needed to do was try to get out of there with his life. He glared at Lucinda before looking at Hart, baring his teeth in anger.

“Doesn’t matter what I answer,” Zack snarled. The hunter was marked, he had Hart’s blood in his claws, when his pack members realize that they aren’t coming back, the next tracking group will find their bodies. So not only was Lucinda on their hit list, so was Hart. “They’ll send out a new team,” He explained, “a strong one. And they’ll get her. She’ll never escape. We’ll make her a meal and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it!”

Lucy frowned and pulled herself behind Hart, holding tighter at the jacket that he had given her to cover herself with. Except now she wasn’t sure how badly he wanted it back considering that it was heavy with her blood. Lucinda stayed on her feet this time by holding onto the back of Hart’s shirt lightly. Her vision blurred till she caught the scent of Hart’s blood and she froze. Her eyes slowly drifted towards his arm where she watched his red warm blood drip down and fall off of his finger tips. He was hurt? When did this happen? She didn’t even realize it! Suddenly there was a prick of guilt that hit her hard in the chest.

Well, at least he wasn’t dead…

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

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I'D RATHER DIE ALONG THE ROAD AS AN UNIMPORTANT MAN
_{'CAUSE NONE OF MY POSSESSIONS WILL MAKE ME WHO I AM}
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Zack had barely finished his little speech when Hart put a silver bullet through his head.

"Well, thank God we don't have to listen to him any more," Hart muttered, walking over and putting a second bullet through the loup's heart, just in case. " You gonna be alright, Lucy?" he asked as he made his way over to the other dead loup, shooting it through the heart as well. Now that he was convinced neither of them were simply playing dead, Hart relaxed a little and decided to tend his injuries.

Gesturing for Lucy to follow him, he went back to where he'd left his medkit. Sitting heavily on the ground, he began cleaning and stitching up the gashes in his arm mechanically. The wounds weren't all that bad really--at least, they weren't as bad as some that he'd gotten in the past--but they were were bleeding heavily, and he knew he couldn't afford to lose that much blood. It didn't take long to stop the bleeding, and once he was all stitched up, Hart wrapped his arm with a roll of clean cloth bandages.

After he was patched up, the young hunter turned his attention to Lucy once again.

"We're going to have to burn their bodies," he told her, tilting his head back toward the two dead loup garou. "Once there's nothing left but ash, there's no way the other pack members will be able to track me. There are too many scents here to pick mine out, what with all the blood and smoke and ash."

Standing with a groan, he made his way over to Zack's body and grabbed it by the ankles, dragging the corpse over to the nearest burning wagon. It took a bit of doing, but after a couple of tries Hart was finally able to get the loup completely into the fire. Doing so, though, depleted what strength he had, and he simply sat back down on the ground again, needing to catch his breath.

"Other one's... all yours," he told Lucy before rubbing his face wearily. "Then we should hit the road and find a safe place to hole up for the night. Any ideas?"

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_{TAGGED: Lucinda
NOTES: None
LYRICS: Senses Fail - "The Past is Proof"
CREDITS: Thanks to BUNNYA! at Caution 2.0}

[LUCINDA AVERY]

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the gunshot when Hart pulled the trigger. It was like slow motion as the bullet pierced Zack’s head and his blood splattered. She couldn’t stop the color from draining her face as Hart then stepped forward and put a bullet into his chest. She stood there almost lifeless with her eyes locked onto the body lying on the ground. Lucy didn’t even answer him when he had asked if she was okay.

She turned around quickly to watch as he put another bullet Abey as well, but didn’t bother with Jonathan. She wondered why that was; until she had remembered that she had gotten him in the chest and killed him instantly. Everything that he had been saying to her didn’t quite register until she had seen him grab onto Zack’s lifeless body and begin to pull him towards a burning wagon then throw his body into the fire. A frown appeared on her face as she felt a tug in her chest, as much as she didn’t want to feel any guilt towards their death, she just couldn’t help herself. She’s known Zack for two years and she still had a strong connection to the pack, she hadn’t been separated from them for long, it was only natural right?

She hoped so.

After a few seconds of standing there, Lucinda turned on her heal and walked over to Abey. Lucinda leaned down by his back legs and grabbed onto his ankles, digging her nails into his flesh she hoisted up the body and threw it over her shoulder while nearly falling to her knees from his weight and how weak she felt. She wandered over to a lively burning fire and tossed the body into the fire. She then wandered over to Jonathan, grabbed him by the leg and walked back to that same fire and threw him on top of Abey.

Her attention then turned towards Hart as she stood there by the fire. Fear was beginning to trickle into her system. How could she be afraid of a man that had just stuck his neck out to save her? He was a hunter, and instinctively she was afraid of them, even the ones that save her life. Granted there were few of those out there, but she’s run into enough to know that hunters do not generally save monsters.

Hart just kept talking, and Lucy stood there huddling into the jacket that belonged to him and also made sure that she was out of his way. Biting onto her lip, Lucy looked up at him, “You’re not… going to kill me too?”

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

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I'D RATHER DIE ALONG THE ROAD AS AN UNIMPORTANT MAN
_{'CAUSE NONE OF MY POSSESSIONS WILL MAKE ME WHO I AM}
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hart smiled tiredly at Lucy's question.

The truth was, most hunters probably would kill her, on principle alone. Hart, though, had something of a different outlook from his contemporaries. Maybe it was his youth, or his relative inexperience, but he just couldn't see things in black and white like that; for him, there were shades of grey, and in those shades dwelt the potential for some "monsters" to be, if not good exactly, then at least not deserving of death right off the bat.

"No, I'm not gonna kill you, Lucy," he said, shaking his head. "Far as I can see, you were just as much a victim here as the poor folks who got killed. And even more than that, you helped me avenge them, when you coulda just joined up with your old pack-mates and tore me apart."

Standing with a groan, Hart absently rubbed his injured arm and had a look around, frowning.

"I hate to do it, but I think its best if we left the other bodies as they are. Fact is we don't have time to burn or bury them all, and cold as it sounds, dead is dead." The idea of leaving the bodies out here to be scavenged over made Hart a bit sick, but what he'd said was true: if Lucy's pack was going to be coming back when the other three didn't return, then he wanted to be as far away as possible. Plus, neither he nor the loup had the strength to do all that hard labor right now...

Heading back to where he'd left his horse, Hart motioned for Lucy to follow him. His horse wouldn't like it, but she could carry double for at least as long as it took to find some place to crash for the night. As soon as they found a relatively defensible place to camp, Hart would feel a lot better. But out here, in the open, with both of them wounded and exhausted? Well, if the pack came back right then, Hart and Lucy were doomed.

"C'mon Lucy, we gotta go." With that, Hart stopped beside his horse and made a stirrup with his hands, ready to help her into the saddle if she needed it.

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_{TAGGED: Lucinda
NOTES: None
LYRICS: Senses Fail - "The Past is Proof"
CREDITS: Thanks to BUNNYA! at Caution 2.0}

[LUCINDA AVERY]

( MOONLIT MASSACRE, )
❝ TO SAVE HER LIFE OR TAKE IT ❞

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She stared at him with a dumbfound look. Her eyes glued to the smile that was on his face as he had answered her. He wasn’t going to kill her? Why not? She couldn’t have been a victim, she had done this to herself, and she had been the one to cause so much death here on the open road. How could he just so simply decide that he wasn’t going to kill her? He was a hunter after all, and from Lucinda’s experience, hunters were the first to shoot and ask questions later. He had been the very first to decide not to kill her. Did he not find her responsible for the death of the countless people that were here? For heaven’s sake there were children here as well…

Lucinda bit down onto her bottom lip. She didn’t know what to do. Every single fiber in her feverish body told her that she turn on heel and run away, to never look back at him. But he had just risked his neck to save her, he could have just let her die, could’ve just ignored her and kept on walking. He didn’t, he stopped, stitched her up, then used his excellent marksmanship to take down all three of her old pack members. Hart done more than Lucy would have ever asked of him. She couldn’t turn around and just ignore him.

She wanted to make a comment, but she felt that it was probably a much better idea to just keep her mouth shut on his decision to not kill her. Although she couldn’t help but turn her head to look over her shoulder at the bodies that were scattered across the ground, they all deserved a burial of some kind. A headstone for someone to come back too and place flowers at there to let them know that their efforts to make sure that they were all protected and safe were not futile. There was someone out there who was going to remember them, and there was someone out there who was going to allow them to move on.

In fact, for every death that Lucinda felt responsible for, she had drawn a star into her blouse so that she had the constant reminder to keep going and never stop, to remember that there were people who had died because of her, and because she wanted to be one of those people who were going to remember them. To make sure that no one had ever asked her about the stars, she had drawn them on the seam of the bottom of the blouse, but now that Abey and his tracking companions had forced her to shift, her shirt had torn completely off of her, and now, she didn’t even have clothes for her wear so that she could continue with the habit… she was just going to have to place them somewhere else.

Like the submissive person that she was, she followed Hart over to his horse. Lucy couldn’t help but send over a glance in the horse’s direction. She wanted to see if the beast was going to react to her, kick his hooves, snort, or even pull away from herself and Hart when she tried to mount onto his back. It was the first thing that she had always looked for in other animals when she was around societies. She wanted to make sure that the animal wasn’t going to make a move that could possibly give her away.

Hesitantly and tenderly, Lucinda had placed her hand onto Hart’s shoulder and then settled her foot into his hands. She didn’t want to push off too hard because of the wound on his arm, but felt that it was necessary to accept the help that he had offered her in gratitude. She could have got herself up onto the back of the horse herself, or she could have even ran alongside of the horse, or even gone ahead to find the shelter that Hart wanted for him to sleep. Lucy knew that there was one thing for sure, she couldn’t afford to slow down, she might stick with Hart long enough to know that he was going to be safe, and sometime in the middle of the night, she’d leave him his jacket and then leave him with a thank you note. Maybe, she wasn’t sure.

She did not want the pack to catch up to her again and take his life.

With a gentle push of her foot, she swung her leg over and settled herself as comfortably as a naked woman could on the back of a horse. Pressing her lips together and casting her gaze downwards she tugged the jacket closed. “Thank you for the lift…” She glanced at him. “I think that there’s a cave a little ways up ahead… we can stop in there for the night if you’d life.”

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( CALDWELL HART COLT,)
❝ THE ANSWER NO, TO AVOID DEATH ❞

( word count ) 822 ( place ) Open road
( notes ) None! ( lyrics ) Cassie by Flyleaf ( credits ) ( m u f f i n ) of Caution!

[CALDWELL HART COLT]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'D RATHER DIE ALONG THE ROAD AS AN UNIMPORTANT MAN
_{'CAUSE NONE OF MY POSSESSIONS WILL MAKE ME WHO I AM}
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once Lucy was on the horse, Hart mounted up in front her.

With the young loup's arms wrapped loosely around his waist, Hart flicked the reins and the horse set off. He hoped that the cave Lucy spoke of would be a good place to camp, because he was practically drifting off in the saddle. If it was too close, or if it wasn't at all defensible, Hart wouldn't let his own exhaustion put them at risk, though. They'd ride on until something else presented itself.

They rode on through the inky blackness for what seemed like an eternity. The further they got from the burning wreckage of the wagon train, the fresher the air smelled, much to Hart's relief. He was no stranger to the smell of burning flesh and hair, and of blood and gun powder, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, letting it out as a weary sigh.

He began to wonder if Lucy was mistaken about the cave, for she didn't say much along the way, other than to steer them in one direction or another every so often. Still, even though the terrain had gotten rougher, there was no sign of any cave that he could see. Then, just about when he'd given up hope, Lucy called for a halt, and lo and behold, there it was.

It was a small cave, and mostly hidden by a thick curtain of trees. There's be ample room for Hart and Lucy inside, but the horse would have to be tethered to one of the trees just outside, as she'd never fit. That alone made it risky as any sound she made might alert the pack if and when the decided to give chase. Still, Hart hadn't seen any better place to stop, and he could always tie the horse up a bit further on from the cave.

Hart dismounted and drew his Thunderer as he approached the cave, having a quick look around in the darkness. It seemed safe enough, and uninhabited, so he nodded to himself and went back to Lucy and the horse.

"Alright, this'll do," he said, helping her down. "I'll go tend to the horse, then I'll come back around."

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_{TAGGED: Lucinda
NOTES: None
LYRICS: Senses Fail - "The Past is Proof"
CREDITS: Thanks to BUNNYA! at Caution 2.0}