Revolting

Chapter Eleven - The Ten Michael

My uncle was a good alpha. Strong, powerful, aggressive. He was the kind of leader who inspired the pack. When he retired, according to tradition, my cousin took his place. Unfortunately, my cousin was a weak, whiney coward. I don't know what genetic anomaly produced Richard, but he was no Alpha. I gave him two months to prove his worth, but he couldn't cut it. So, I stepped up to challenge him. What possessed him to even try to fight me? Maybe it was pride, but that fight was over before it had begun. I had him pinned, with a death grip on his throat before five minutes had passed. He was crying and begging for mercy, but there is no concession in an alpha challenge. It is a fight to the death. He was an embarrassment to the family, and to the pack, right to the very end, sniveling for mercy while I ripped his throat out.

I took my place as the alpha, and I had spent months reviewing everything my Uncle had done over the last twenty years. I had to know every detail, every financial transaction, every alliance, every pack that had ever slighted us. Knowledge is power.novelbin

One of my first acts as Alpha was to appoint a special group of elite hunters. Ten warriors, the best of my best, under my direct command. We had one mission: to hunt rogues. To eliminate the threat before they ever had a chance to attack. My parents were killed by rogues when I was just a boy. I saw everything, from my hiding place in the cupboard. I watched them tear my father to pieces while they held my mother and forced her to watch. And then they raped her, each one having a turn violating her body before they killed her too. To this day I can still remember every detail, right down to the stink of their unwashed bodies.

Hunting them had become sport for me. More than a sport, it was an obsession.

I had my nose to the ground, following the faint scent of two rogues that were headed south just outside the boundary of our land. They had probably passed two days ago, but the stench lingered for my sensitive wolf nose. I put my head in the air and howled, and the Ten answered me. When they had gathered around me, we took to the trail and headed south. Although they had a two-day head start, they were probably half starved and weak. We could overtake them in less than a day.

My adrenaline was pumping as we pushed hard through the woods. I let my wolf take control, I gave in to his lust for blood. We ran through the night, stopping only to lap at water in the small streams we crossed. Then we would find the trail again, and take off. We moved swiftly through the trees and across open fields, silent and deadly.

We caught up to them faster than I anticipated. By dawn we had found them, hunkered down like the feral animals they were. Two dirty looking men, with shaggy clothes and greasy hair. They looked lean and hungry as they skinned a small rabbit and arranged it on a makeshift spit over the fire. Without a word, the Ten silently surrounded their camp, cutting off any avenue of escape. The rogues were completely unaware, their hunger and fatigue had made their senses dull. When everyone was in place, I growled low in my throat.

The two men jumped and stared wild-eyed into the darkness, the light from the fire making the darkness beyond impenetrable. "Who-Who's there?" One man called, putting a hand on the shoulder of the other.

I could smell their terror, and it only fueled my rage. Filthy rogues! They were the scourge of the earth! I snarled and gave the signal for the Ten to attack. One of the men shifted, into a half-starved, mangy looking wolf. He circled the other man, as though he was trying to protect his companion. The other rogue just stood in his human form, shaking, pissing himself in fear. Weak! So weak! I hated weak things!

There was no real fight here. One of my warriors could have defeated both of them blindfolded. It was hardly even fun, tearing into the small, wolf who whimpered and cried like a puppy. I saved the other for myself, I wanted, no I NEEDED the satisfaction of killing the bastard. He would pay, they would all pay, until I wiped their existence off the planet. I leapt onto his chest, pushing him over, sinking my teeth in to his arm. I could have gone for the throat and made a clean kill, but where is the fun in that? I made him scream, and I made him suffer. I bled him out before I finally ripped his head clean from his body.

I shifted back into my human form and attempted to wipe the blood from my face, but I only managed to smear it even worse. I spit the vile taste of the rogue's flesh from my mouth. The camp was a blood bath. It was hard to believe the blood of two men could make such a mess. My men and the one woman on the Ten were stone faced as they gathered up the remaining pieces and added them to the fire, adding more wood until they had a blazing bonfire. The air was soon thick with the sweet smell of burning flesh, and plumes of black smoke filtered into the air through the branches of the pines. Then Ten scavenged through the men's belongings, but like most rogues, they had nothing of interest. A few dirty, ratty pieces of clothes, a rat-chewed sleeping bag, and a rusted knife. They added the trash to the fire.

"The only good rogue is a dead rogue," I repeated, and satisfied, turned back toward home.