AN I want to surprise you with this one... Off you go 😉. And hey! Leave me some more oneshot suggestions!
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The young werewolf bares her yellowing teeth. She effortlessly pounces onto her helpless prey, a woman of thirty, and bites deep wounds into her flesh. She is an easy kill. They always are. There is no struggle. With careful jaws the werewolf removes her heart from her gaping chest. She has a place to be now. She has someone important to give this heart to.
Nimble paws leap over fallen logs. A sleek body slinks under bushes and bounds around boulders. Time is running short. But this wolf knows where she's going. Eventually she comes to a quirky cottage. It's ancient structure is covered in deep green moss that sinks into ever crack and crevise like a spider web. A single lamp is lit in the window. But on further inspection it appears that many candles have been lit inside, and even a fireplace.
The heart in her jaw is warm and twitching. She spits it out and it lands with a wet thud on the dirt before her. It's time to shift back. With an ever so slightly uncomfortable strain the creature reverts back into her human form, devoid of all clothing. Creamy caramel skin shines against the full moon light. Her hair, short and brown, billows in the gentle breeze. But she is not cold. With long slender fingers she picks up the heart and cups it in her hands. Of course, being a werewolf makes it difficult for her to not sink her teeth into the thing. But she knows her mistress will not be pleased if that happens. Straightening up and not wanting to risk being seen, the werewolf knocks on the front door.
"Wherefore, who knocks?" calls a tuneful voice.
"Mistress, I have carried out and completed your task!" the werewolf announces.
"Sweetness, Karlie," the voice behind the door hums, "What wonderful news!"
The door unlocks and standing before Karlie is a woman dressed in black. She is the epitome of night. An obsidian evening gown hugs her slender curves. Her crystalline eyes are shadowed in a smoke like that of a winters fire. But her lips are a deep blood red. Red like the heart in Karlie's careful hands.
"Have I pleased you, Miss?" Karlie asks hopefully.
"Come inside, you have done an exceptional job," the lady in the cottage smiles. She takes the heart in her warm fingers and beckons the werewolf inside.
In this world there are two types of witch. There are good witches and there are bad witches. Taylor, Karlie's mistress, is a good witch. Surprised? The woman Karlie slayed was a bad witch. She would beckon young children into her home and use their bones for hexes and spells. Taylor, being very high up in the hierarchy of her coven, wanted this nonsense to be over with immediately. And so she set her favourite familiar on a little hunt.
"You never fail to impress me," Taylor beams as she places the heart in a cauldron over her fireplace. Karlie has spread herself across the sheepskin carpet in front of the hot stove. Taylor kneels and places a loving kiss to the werewolf's temple.
The witch's home is filled with shelves of books, bottles, and jars of everything imaginable. Foxes eyeballs, bird tongues, bear fur. Karlie fears that the entire cottage will collapse one day under the weight of so many treasures and secrets. She has been doing her mistresses' bidding for five years now. Ever since she was rescued from a hunters shotgun barrel, Karlie has been adoringly devoted to the blonde haired pagan. She kills and catches and in return Taylor provides her with a warm home and a full stomach.
Karlie snoozes and listens to Taylor's gentle humming as she prepares the heart over her stove. Taylor is part kitchen witch. Her mother taught her everything she knows about remedies and potions. Taylor's cottage is filled with boxes of herbs and charmed spices. Recipe books lay open all around the room. She's a dream with a wooden spoon and a spell to use it with. The other half of Taylor?
