The Shadow Revolution

“A new age?” the man scoffed. “We kill. That is what we do.”

 

 

“I agree.” Gretta threw back her cloak to reveal that she wore her antique leather cuirass over her bare ivory skin. She reached behind her and pulled a large, double-edged battle-axe, which would’ve taken the strongest of men to wield.

 

Samuel showed trepidation for the first time, but it was brief. Physical violence was his currency, as it was for most everyone gathered there. He flexed his fingers and grinned. “Do you hope to cow me with that toy?”

 

“I have no interest in cowing you.” Gretta’s voice remained deathly quiet.

 

Samuel laughed, throwing his arms to encompass his friends. “You think you can kill all of us?”

 

“Yes.” Gretta tightened her hands on the haft of the axe with a leathery squeak.

 

Samuel stepped back into the group of ten supporters, his body starting to shake.

 

Gretta surged forward with axe swinging. Before it could reach its intended target, it struck one man and cleaved him near in half before continuing to gouge deep into another. She tried to pull her weapon free, but it was caught in the rib cage of the second victim. Gretta growled and yanked, producing a shower of bone and blood. She spun in an arc of steel as other figures closed on her. Screams and snarls vibrated the cellar.

 

Samuel had doubled over as a man but straightened as a beast. His horrible sneer grew grotesquely wide, splitting his face open. Then his nose and chin lengthened into a snarling canine snout with rows of terrible teeth. His large hands grew dark with scimitar claws. As muscular as he had been, his bulk increased. Shoulders hunched and brawny. Arms long and powerful. His clothing tore, revealing matted black fur sprouting beneath. He shook himself violently and sprang for the blond woman.

 

With amazing speed, Gretta brought the axe straight out in front of her, bracing her powerful legs as the large werewolf slammed into her. The impact drove her back, but the beast was held away from her by the length of the weapon so his clawed swipes fell short. With a tremendous shout, Gretta surged forward again and pushed him off his feet, slamming him down onto the floor. She pressed the eye of the axe into his chest with all her considerable might, causing him to snarl with pain.

 

The sounds of growls, stretching flesh, and cracking bone that accompanied the lycanthrope change came from all parts of the room. Figures writhed in the ecstatic torment of transformation.

 

In the time it took Gretta to raise a foot and stamp on one of Samuel’s arms, she changed too. In the unbelievable blink of an eye, she went from Valkyrie to a huge wolf on her hind legs, still draped in a cloak, with her powerful torso straining against her leather armor. Samuel struck at her with his free arm and snapped pointlessly with his jaws. Gretta curled back her lips and gave a sound that might have been a laugh. Then she pressed down onto the haft of the axe creating two sounds—a cry of pain from Samuel and the sound of snapping bones beneath the blunt crown of the blade.

 

She went to one knee, clutching a clawed hand over Samuel’s neck. Before he could even reach for her arm, she came away with his throat. He quivered. She stood and, in an instant, drove the axe blade through his chest so deeply it pinned him to the floor.

 

Gretta turned and slashed at other figures. She moved like a reaping machine, putting claws through victims and crushing others with her teeth. Bodies fell around her. A few larger werewolves leapt for her, clambering onto her back, biting her neck and shoulders.

 

She whirled, pulling attackers off like fleas and smashing them to the ground. She crushed them with her heavy tread. She gored them with her murderous hands. Her lithe form climbed over bodies, grabbing for more of them, killing any who came near her.

 

Werewolves struggled to move back, fighting to get away from her savagery in the narrow confines, to be far from her berserker rage. Hairy bodies crouched and scuttled, pressing against the brick walls, falling on their knees and backs, praying their submissive postures might save them.

 

It didn’t. Gretta continued to kill, even those who offered no resistance, who whined and begged.

 

“Gretta! Stop!” The young girl ran forward, a little human among the writhing mass of monsters. She planted her tiny feet in a pool of red and held up her small pink hands to the bloody heaving monster. “Stop! Please!”

 

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