Den of the Wolfman

Epilogue: House Kaltrana

Mother Kaltrana strode through the great double doors of the mansion. She wore a violet dress with gossamer ribbons trailing from it. Together with her fine black hair, they gave the sense that she was an ethereal being. She moved like a young girl—a dancer, even—but the pale skin of her hands was splotched and wrinkled with age. Her face was not visible: she wore a white porcelain mask that showed the world a delicate smile.

"My lady," said one of the black-clad warriors at the door. "We have a few hopefuls upstairs."

"Excellent," she said. "Accompany me please, boys."

A half-dozen warriors followed her up the grand staircase that led to the second floor. A set of double doors stood there, directly in line with the mansion's main entry. She stopped and waited for her men to push the doors open. Inside, she found a large parlor with two tall, thin windows at the rear. Various padded sofas and chairs had been pushed back against the walls and stacked upon each other to make room.

In the center of the room, a couple dozen men and women sat on the floor. There was variety in their clothing: some looked as if they had been taken directly from their work in the garden or the stables, with coarse brown and black clothes and leather gloves thrown on the floor before them. Others wore fine suits or the minimalist dresses of maids or house staff. All of them sat dejectedly, their heads hanging low, and some of them were audibly sobbing. They all raised their eyes when she entered. They were surrounded by more Kaltrana warriors dressed in black, brandishing weapons of various sorts, from rifles and revolvers to clubs and machetes.

She stopped and stood before them.

"I am Mother Kaltrana," she said. "You may call me 'my lady' or 'Mother'." She paused. "Well, some of you may. The rest will not be leaving this room alive."

A man came to his knees before her, his hands outstretched.

"Please, my lady!" he said. "I only wish to serve. I am very useful. Master Tantasidru always praised the orderliness of his stables when under my care."

She looked upon him quietly. The fact that he could not see the expression on her face made him uneasy. Clasping her hands behind her back, she began to walk in a circle around the group.

"Do you want to survive?" she asked.

"Y-yes!" said the kneeling man.

"Please!" cried one of the maids. "We've done nothing to you! We are just servants!"

"We are willing to serve you," said one of the other men.

"Well, if you want to survive, you will have to change. You will have to adapt. You will have to become something...new. I know that you all served your former masters well. That is fine. But that is not enough for me. Spaces in our organization are limited, and they will go to those who are willing to change for the better."

"What happened to the Tantasidru family, my lady?" asked one of the maids, her voice soft and tremulous.

"We bought them out," said Mother Kaltrana. "I have it all in writing. This is the Kaltrana Estate now, and they have gone to a faraway place. So again, who is willing to adapt? I need to know because, well, roughly half of you will not be leaving this room alive."

"I will adapt, my lady!" said the man who had knelt before her.

Another man stood. This one looked like the gardener. His face was dark and wrinkled beyond his years, and his hands were visibly calloused.

"You can go to hell," he said in an even tone. "You can all go to hell. You will all go to hell. I would like to send you there myself, but no matter. Yalux brings justice to all in the end."

Mother Kaltrana stopped to stand face-to-face with him.

"You can do what you want with me," he continued. "Let the young ladies go. They are no threat to you. They have done nothing to you. They have their entire lives before them."

"I don't like you," said Mother Kaltrana. Then she leaned to get a better look at the kneeling man from before. "But I don't like that sniveling cretin over there, either." She addressed the group. "So let me tell the rest of you what will happen now. If my guards have to kill either of these men, you will all be killed. But if you kill these men for me, some of you may live and become one of us."

She was met with silence.

"But...my lady!" said the kneeling man.

She pointed a jagged finger at him, and her voice that had been so even and cool now became sharp. "If I hear that idiot again, I will have my guards kill him! And I already told the rest of you what that would mean."

The group mobbed the kneeling man, pinned him down, and stuffed a leather glove into his mouth so that he could not speak again.

Mother Kaltrana sighed at that. "Well, that is some initiative, but you will have to do better. I want them both dead."

They all looked at each other with wide eyes. The gardener turned toward the rest of them.

"It's alright," he said. "I've seen quite enough of this cruel world."

The restrained man was trying to scream now, but the glove reduced that to a muffled whimper. The gardener turned to Mother Kaltrana.

"Aren't you going to give them some weapons or something?" asked the gardener.

Mother Kaltrana brushed some dust from one of the padded chairs and sat upon it.

"No," she said. "Oh, and once you have killed these two, only seven of you get to survive. And I am a busy woman, so you people have ten minutes to determine who that will be. Then, we will see who will be a part of the new dominant force in Wild River."

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