Purgatory of the Werewolf - The Wolf of Dorian Gray (Book 2)

Chapter 9 - Van Helsing Part 2

As he neared the ferma, he knew at once that something was wrong. The sheep were still out of their pens and were clustered together by the barn. The house was unusually dark and he couldn't see his parents. Where were they? He closed the distance and began calling out nervously for them. "Mama, Tată, where are you?"

A choking cough came from the herd of sheep near the barn. His father was lying on the ground covered in blood. Nicolai rushed to his side, tears already forming. "Tată, did you fall? Get up. Where's Mama? What happened?"

His father lifted his head, then groaned and lowered it. His body was covered in blood and dirt. There was a gaping wound in the side of his father's neck, seeping an alarming amount of the dark red fluid. Nicolai froze. He had seen the carcasses of devoured sheep and even slaughtered lambs before—but nothing prepared him for the sight of his father wounded and hemorrhaging blood.

Anton's eyes focused on his weeping son. He lifted one grisly hand to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. He struggled against the pain and drowsiness in an attempt to speak to his son. "Nicolai, it was de vârcolac. Stefania was behind the barn when it leapt on her. I tried to save her, my poor soție, but it had already torn out her throat when I got there. I tried to kill it with my staff, but I fell—înjurătură this leg of mine."

Nicolai stared at his father in disbelief. "No, it can't be. I will help her."

"No. Listen to me. I am dying. The vârcolac dragged her body into the forest. It's the only reason I still live."

"I will bring her back!"

"Nicolai, listen. It isn't your fault. It is my sins during the war that has brought the Evil Eye upon us..." He broke off in a coughing fit wet with blood.

"Tată, I will kill the vârcolac."

"Yes...yes you must. However, the musket will not be enough. You must outsmart it. Come...closer; it is hard to speak...I will tell you what you must do."

Nicolai listened desperately as his father gave him his final set of instructions. The hero of his life told his son how proud he was of him and how much he and his mother loved him. They held each other until the affection in his father's eyes slowly faded into a blank stare as he died in his arms. Nicolai wept bitter tears of anguish. Despite his father's words, he knew his carelessness had caused his parents' demise. He spent that night surrounded by the sheep and lying by his father's body—not caring if the wolf returned or not.

The next morning Nicolai woke before the dawn. At first, it all seemed like a horrible dream. Then he looked over at the corpse next to him. He slowly got to his feet and began ushering the sheep back into their pens. Nicolai retrieved his father's pickaxe and shovel from the barn. Then he started digging. When the hole was deep enough, he carefully lowered the body in and tearfully began covering his father with dirt.

Next, Nicolai walked behind the barn, pointedly ignoring the areas of ground stained red with his mother's blood. He walked halfway between the forest and the barn and began digging a second hole. He dug until his hands were covered in blisters. He continued to dig as the blisters broke and bled. Even as new blisters formed, Nicolai didn't stop digging until he hit hardened rock. He paused to wipe and bandage his hands; he would need them for the work ahead.

After a brief rest and a lunch of cold sausage and hardened rolls, he bent to pick up his father's pickaxe. He worked late into the afternoon making the pit deeper and wider. He broke and moved the stone out until it was about two meters deep and three meters in length and width. As the sun traveled lower in the sky, Nicolai covered his work with thin branches and hay from the roof of the barn. Then he retrieved his father's axe and set to work felling several small trees. These he hauled into the house, ruining his mother's floor. As the night grew later, he barred and locked the door. He continued working through the night, splitting the trees into long beams. Finally exhausted, he fell into his small bed in the corner and cried himself to sleep.

In the morning, the work continued until the pit was even longer and enough trees had been cut down and split into long beams. He retrieved his father's knives and began whittling the ends of the beams into spear points. By midday, he had enough to fill the bottom of his pit. He dug a small hole for each spear, their points facing towards the greying sky. He secured the spears with the rocks he had broken apart with the pickaxe and then covered the top of the pit with a thin lattice of sticks and hay.

Next, Nicolai tore open the back wall of the barn that faced the forest, leaving it exposed to the elements on one side. He herded most of the sheep inside and tied them by the neck with rope to the heavy support beams. Those that didn't fit, he slaughtered and spread their blood upon the ground and over the pit. He had followed his father's plan and he would have his revenge on that accursed wolf. When it was dark enough, he cleaned and loaded the musket. Then he hid it on the floor and covered it with hay. Nicolai sat down to wait with the sheep in the barn, his eyes trained on the dark trees of the forest.

He must have dozed off, but the bleating of the sheep alerted him to the wolf's arrival. They were skittish and on edge from the smell of the sheep blood that still lay thick on the ground. When they caught wind of the predator, the fuzzy animals panicked and began straining against the ropes in an attempt to run.

Nicolai could see the large wolf out of the corner of his eye as it crept from the edge of the surrounding forest. He stayed still in his sitting position on the floor of the exposed barn as the beast approached. The wolf must have weighed over sixty kilograms. It was the largest one Nicolai had ever seen at around one hundred and sixty centimeters long and ninety centimeters tall. Its coat was black, with a grey face and grey paws. The pink tongue came out to lick its muzzle, exposing razor-sharp teeth and long canines. The wolf could smell the blood and the sheep. The keen eyes were cautious however, and Nicolai was sure the animal could see him. It moved closer, only a few meters short of the spiked pit.

As the wolf came closer, the sheep grew frantic in their attempt to escape, but Nicolai had tied the knots well and they held. The wolf grew excited by the screams of the herd and padded forward to the edge of the pit. Suddenly it paused as if sensing something wrong.

Nicolai rose to his feet and bared his teeth. "Here vârcolac. I am here. Come and finish your killing or I will grow into a man and one day kill you."

The wolf growled in response to the challenge. Nicolai stared into his enemies eyes and saw his own death there. "Pulă meă! Come, I am here!" He bent down and pulled the musket from beneath the hay on the barn floor. That caused a flicker of recollection in the vârcolac's eyes and it leapt forward—nearly clearing the pit in front of it. His mother must have been looking down upon him that night, for the edge of the pit collapsed and the hindquarters of the wolf fell downwards and onto the sharp spikes below.

Thecreature let out a high-pitched growl of pain and whimpered as its front pawsstruggled to pull itself forward. Nicolai strode forward three strides, aimedhis musket, and fired between the wolf's eyes.