Payne's Hollow

I5I The Fate of the Departed

They continued their stroll through the graveyard, Carly occasionally stopping to take pictures of carvings and inscriptions. They passed a stone wall, three small wolf figures craved into them. Ian pointed them out as the three great spirits; The spirit of the Moon, her mate the spirit of the Sun and their offspring, the spirit of the stars.
Other structures they came across included blocks of stone with circular stone spheres placed on top of them , a circular plate etched with odd symbols and an indiscernible statue lying on its side. When Carly asked about them, Ian shrugged.

"Those are centuries old." He said, clearly as curious about them as she was. "Remember, The Payne pack only came here in the nineteenth century. There were werewolves well before us, ancient packs whose stories have long been forgotten."

As she wandered closer to inspect one of the tombs, Carly noticed a triangular notch cut into the face of the stone, showing only the blackness within. She made a move to peer in, caught by a sudden morbid urge to catch a glimpse of the deceased werewolf inside. As though he had read her mind, Ian's hand firmly gripped her by the shoulder, pulling her back.
"That's considered disrespectful." He informed her. He did not appear upset with her, in fact, he seemed quite pleased with the interest she was taking in his heritage.

Carly, although quick to brush his hands off, apologized profusely . She was getting carried away.

"The holes allow moon light to enter the grave." Ian explained, sounding much like a teacher giving his students an important lesson. "It is so as to calm the spirit of the wolf, especially on a full moon when it is most agitated. Restless spirits find it difficult to find paradise."
"Like Jerald?" She asked.
Ian shook his head. "No, he gave up paradise to protect the mountains he loved so much. He will only move on when there is not a human or werewolf left alive in this region."

Carly stepped around the tomb, stepping on dried jasmine petals as she walked over to the other side of the tomb to take a look at the inscriptions. It was only on the other side, obscured and shielded by ferns and nettle, did she notice something was off. The tomb was broken.

The tombs in the cemetery were all far from being in perfect condition, worn smooth by wind and cracked open by the rain. But this tomb had not fallen prey to the elements. In fact, this one was surprisingly well preserved, save for the gaping cracks in its side. Carly could see a pile of something within the tomb's dark depths.

"Ian, take a look at this." She waved him over. He crouched down beside her, brushing away the nettles as if they were nothing. Carly saw his eyes grow wide with surprise. He reached out into the hole as though something had caught his eye and he wanted to inspect it. As soon as his hand closed around it, he gave a howl of pain and leapt back, clutching his hand as though he had been badly burnt.

"Silver." He snarled, yellow eyes ablaze with primal fear, looking very much like a feral animal caught in a corner.

Carly was astonished by his reaction, reaching for her phone and flashing its torch light into the hole. The light picked up what appeared to be a neat pile of ash, particles scattering from the draft filtering through the crack. Around the pile was a circle of silvery spheres, glowing like tiny moons in the dank darkness of the tomb. She picked one up, showing Ian her find and telling him about the arrangement within the tomb. At once, his face contorted, eyes flashing with anger she had never seen before.

"This tomb has been desecrated." He hissed, glaring at the sphere of silver lying harmlessly in Carly's palm. "They cremated the remains of the werewolf and sullied their resting place with silver. Those bastards."

"Who could have done it?" "Surely not the locals, they adore your kind."

"Maybe not the locals, but this undoubtedly the work of humans. Werewolf Hunters to be exact." He murmured, more to himself than her. Carly's brows shot up in surprise.

"Let's get rid of the silver from the grave. It's the least we can do for this poor wolf's soul." Ian asked before she could question him further. While Carly wanted to know more about Ian's speculations, she was unnerved by the uncharacteristically serious way he was acting. Ian seemed like the kind of person who always smiled and laughed, despite the situation.

She removed the silver from the grave, pocketing them and allowing Ian to cover up the crack with a large rock he had found. He then uttered a silent prayer, looking as though he really was quite distressed by what he had seen.

They're outing came to an end after that, with Ian murmuring how it was late and that they should be getting back. Carly tried to bring up the subject of the grave and the Werewolf Hunters again on the ride back, but Ian had become surprisingly reserved. Carly soon gave up trying to get anything out of him, partially because he was unresponsive and partially because she felt cruel prodding and poking about what was obviously a sensitive subject.

Yet, the uneasy curiosity continued to bother her all the way back home. Her grandmother's dark mutterings wormed their way into her thoughts. From the strange deaths and disappearance to the desecrated graves , Carly too began to wonder just how safe Payne's Hollow was any more.