SWNOVELS Chapter Epilogue: Boar-wolves' Origins
Lexa Bernadette Garnier Lexus was born and raised in Paris, around the black arts and Necromancy from her parents that were killed for their practices. Coming from the streets, she made her way back into society, wanting power like any other corrupt soul. Dabbling in potions and tinctures, she delved into Necromancy, following in her parents footsteps, making the attempts to conjure evil spirits and demonic forces, some were successful while others were not. Reciting spells from a book written in her mother’s hand, and possessing a strange, and mysterious triangular pendant that was the only thing her mother left her, the center stone enhanced her magic and practices. Coming across an incantation she desperately wanted to attempt, conjuring a Demon of bidding, she wrote down all of the ingredients with anticipation, becoming a bit displeased for the last ingredient was difficult to come by, she would need one pure, unblemished heart.
She was beautiful, using her looks to her advantage, and it was one day, she had found herself in the clutches of a great French diplomat that held such respect and recognition among society.
Thinking maybe unblemished meant a healthy heart, a faint sinister grin on the corners of her thin lips, thinking about her wealthy husband, a Lycynian of whom she hated but he was her key to keeping a place in society. They didn’t love one another, but he wanted her because of her beauty and how it made him appear. Luring him to her separate, isolate chambers with the promise of pleasure and intimacy, she had to play her part as wife. Pouring him cups of Parisian wine, of which she poisoned, she played with his desires, ripping at his belts and shirts, then pushing him back on the bed, straddling him, she watched as he gulped from the bottle and watching as he took the final sip, dripping the last few drops onto his wet thick tongue that made her sick, she removed a concealed dagger from her sleeve, slashing his throat when he plopped his head back against the pillows, feeling her sitting upon him. She closed her eyes as blood splattered from the clean slice, then as she quickly jumped off, she spat at the ground before she dropped the dagger on the table, attempting to drag his bulk off the bed.
“Mon Dieu, tu es un gros connard, mais au moins ta mort sera plus utile que ta vie ne l’a jamais été!” she huffed, cursing that he was one heavy mother f*cker but praised that his death will be more useful than his life ever was. Dusting her hands off, panting, she wiped sweat from her brow before she flipped the long braid of her black hair off her shoulder, “This is taking too much time that I don’t have!” she complained, then as she turned, opening a portal leading to her ritual chamber, she dragged her husband’s bulk with a rope of dark magic.
Once through, she closed the portal behind her, leaving her husband’s bulk laying on the ground. Approaching a large, old stone slab, Lexa searched through her mother’s book for a levitation spell and placing one hand on the page, she studied the words then turned, using her free to raise the man’s body from the ground, into the air, then over toward the slab and once he hovered inches above it, she released her hold, having him fall in an unsettling thud of thick flesh against stone. She retrieved a ritual dagger that laid beside the book, cutting his shirt down the front revealing his hefty but muscular hairy chest then she turned, following the strict instructions of the ritual. Placing each ingredient into a copper bowl, one by one, she stirred them together then left their brewing while she pierced the man’s flesh, drawing blood. Growing a pleased, and satisfied expression, she sunk the blade’s tip deep into his skin, cutting a slit down his chest and once cut, she laid the dagger near his head, while her left hand reached deep into his chest cavity, splintering and shattering his chest bone to get to his heart.
“There you are…” she muttered, gripping the organ and just as she roughly yanked from its arteries and valves, she slowly removed her hand soaked and dripping in blood, holding onto the man’s large, healthy heart. Turning to the bowl, she grew a faint grin, tossing it into the thick mixture then stirred it around. After reciting the spell in an ancient Latin dialect, the syllables rolling off her tongue, the thick contents bubbled to the surface, floating into the air like a thick black mist or smoke then vanished, “Wh-what’s happening?” she huffed, skimming through the pages of the book then leaning on the ledge of the altar, staring at the bowl, she closed her eyes, for she knew some spells took time, “Mother, this spell have better present some result!” she groaned, then turned, burning her husband’s body on the stone slab. Returning to her chambers, she retreated to the bathroom, taking a long, hot bath.
Afterwards, brushing her long black hair, she laid in bed then fell into a deep slumber, but her dreams weren’t pleasant, for instead, they were haunted by a shadow figure that showed itself, viciously raping her. Screaming she woke, sweating. Shaking her head, thinking it was a nightmare, she suddenly felt a burning sensation all over her body and as she roughly pulled back the sheets, she examined herself where there were scratches on her arms, chest and thighs, among a torn gown. In a moment of disbelief, not wanting to believe that it really happened, she panted, as she mumbled inaudible words under her breath. Looking around her chambers, it was then her dark eyes noticed a shadowed figure standing in the dark corner away from soft glow of candles and torches. Pulling her sheet over her body, up to her chin, she blurted loudly in a firm tone,
“Who are you?! Get out of my chambers!”
In a familiar voice, the figure stepped forward, answering her.
“Get out? You order me to leave my own chambers?! It was you that conjured me, remember sorceress? Though, I am not what you intended to conjure in that ritual that you claimed my life for.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?! I followed everything that my mother wrote down, I followed the instructions so don’t make it sound like I’m a child, I have been practicing this for years! Now tell me creature, who are you?!”
“Yes I know you have been practicing for years, but you did not follow the words as intended.” the figure taunted.
“I command you to tell me what you are!” Lexa demanded.
“Command?! I obey no one, witch!” the figure threatened, as it pointed a long clawed finger toward her, “The spelled called for a pure heart, not of health, but a heart full of love…” the voice laughed, “compassion and purity, something you do not possess! Foolish woman, you butchered me for a ritual that did not work, you evil and heartless b*tch!” he growled.
“What did you say?” Lexa’s eyes widened.
“Do you not recognize your own husband?! Is it I, Lexa…” he stepped forward, “Edmond, but not entirely for there another is with me. My spirit and the Demon you conjured, merged into one form, resulting in what stands before you now, and our Master is furious with you, Lexa and if I were you, not that you ever listened to me, should be fearful because he…is coming for you, and there is a special place in Hell for what you have done. A place that he created just for you, torture and defilement never-ending, it is perfection!”
Watching in sheer terror as the figure materialized before her, it turned into a demonic creature; the head was bulbous, very much like PUMPKINHEAD with large red eyes that bulged from their sockets. Its distorted face revealed a long tapered Lycynian snout with a boars’ nose and large tusks protruding from its lower lip, overlapping the upper. Rows of two-inch, wolf teeth and fangs lined its monstrous mouth where several strands of acidic drool dripped onto his chest and the stone floor, leaving scorch marks. Lowering its head, running down the length of its head, back and body, were large disfigured bone-like spinous protrusions. A thick neck and shoulders blended into its herculean mortal torso with skeletal ribs that pierced through its black, charred skin. Muscular mortal upper arms off set longer, Lycynian-jackal forearms that led to its massive hands that flickered long fingers with black demonic claws.
Walking around the left side of her bed, Lexa crawled away from the ledge, examining the rest of its form because from the waist down, were long hairy distorted muscular legs bent at the knee and as its footsteps echoed against the stone, they created a loud click-clock sound from its cloven-hoofed feet. It had a discreet tuft of fur concealing its male organs. Flicking behind it, then coursing up the ledge of the bed, was a long thin boars’ tail with the continuous spinous disfigurement that ceased at the base of its back. Growing tears, Lexa let out a loud scream as it leaned in inches from her face, staring at her with its red eyes that were filled with hate, and in that moment, with everything that she had conjured in the past, it was a creature that really frightened her.
“What is the matter woman?” the creature growled in a deep, guttural voice, breathing its putrid and rotten breath in her face, without moving its lips, “Have you not seen anything as hideous as I, in any of your previous conjurings?” it watched as the woman shook her head, unable to speak, “Well then, it is my pleasure to inform you that because of your mistake, I am the consequence when you delve into things that you do no understand. After all, you should know about such things if you are so experienced.” the creature released a guttural but muffled laugh, before snorting hot breath in her face from its tapered snout.
“Con-consequences?” the words barely escaped Lexa’s lips, “What consequences, tell me what you speak of, Demon!”
The creature stood beside her bed, leering at her, flicking its tail.
“What you thought was just a dream, was not a dream. I have impregnated you with my SPAWN that is neither mortal or animal and it will take my appearance that you see now, but it will be cold and unloving as yourself, with nothing but hatred in its heart for anything and everything. It has been branded, knowing your name as the woman that brought it into this world, and that, since you never wanted to be a mother, will be your punishment, carrying it within your dried womb.” the creature growled, then returned to its shadowed form, and as it swirled around the room, it flew directly at the woman, and disappeared as it made contact with her stomach.
“No!” Lexa screamed, feeling the sensation of insects crawling beneath her skin, “Noooo!” she leaned forward, crying with a sense of regret and fear. Looking around her room, she was all alone to suffer the consequences of what greed and power does to a person.
Months later, after a painful and rapid pregnancy, Lexa gave birth to the thing within her, with no one to aid her in a long, difficult birth. As she screamed, she remembered moments in the pregnancy where she attempted taking her life but from her womb, the creature stabbed and kicked, preventing her from completing the task. Holding her breath, giving one last push, finally the creature ejected from between her legs; she gasped, panting heavily as she leaned her head back. Feeling a little lightheaded, from the exertion and blood loss, she let out a deep moan, pushing herself onto her elbows, watching as the creature tore itself from its uterine sack, revealing a disfigured and hideous monster that squirmed in place before stretching its arms and legs. Closing her eyes, not wanting to look upon it, Lexa crawled backwards on the stone floor, then managed to pull herself to her feet, scampering out of the chamber; she felt a trail of blood behind her as she struggled to keep her balance, holding onto the wall for support. Feeling the sharp, stabbing pains from her stomach, she moaned continuing to move forward, leaving the beast behind. Making it elsewhere, tending to herself, it was hours later when she returned to the chamber, hoping the creature didn’t survive but standing in the doorway, her dark eyes watched in horror, for there it sat by the fireplace, eating its own uterine sack for the only source of nourishment. From what she could remember in between moments of trying to stay conscious, she could have sworn it was born the size of an adult cat, but it had grown twice the size. The Demon that had cursed her with this beast, was right when it revealed it would take on his appearance, except for short black bristly fur and horn protruding from its forehead. Growing fearful as it stared at her with its red-evil eyes, she slowly backed out of the room. Leaning against the wall in the hall, she closed her eyes, wondering how she would rid herself of the creature that grunted and snorted.
Days later, she tricked it into one of her husband’s large, old clothing trunks, after drugging a slab of meat she had thrown it and once it fell asleep, laying in a thick heap, she sealed and locked the trunk with her magic, then piled it up with other items that belonged to her husband, that she sold and wanted out of the Parisian house.
A trunk made its ways across the Irish Sea, arriving at a new port on the Isle of Castillion in the year 1818 and once the old locks seemed to break free of a magic that kept it sealed, a creature emerged, startling the fishermen and harbor men that all jumped back as it scampered away, shielding its eyes from the afternoon sun shining high above. Making its way across the vast open landscaping of the island, it discovered old and abandoned ruins hidden with the Oak forest that was known as Ravenswood to those calling the island home. Claiming it as its den, over the centuries, it reproduced with boars, rare encounters with wolves and mortal women, creating its own horrific bloodline of a breed known to wreak havoc against a nearby estate. Everything has its own origin, even creatures with a name derived from their appearance of half boar, half wolf.
It wasn’t until years later, Lexa encountered the streets boys, step brothers and orphans, Drake and Matt. She sat outside at one of the Parisian bakeries when she watched as the boys attempted running off with some of the old, stale breads and sweets that were being thrown away. She admired Drake and his bold attempt to fight back, watching as the young boy of half Japanese descent, broke the man’s knees with a clench of his fist before running off with Matt down the street.
She waited for the perfect opportunity to approach them, and once she made her offer clear, she took them in changing both their names to Drakuul and Matrx. Teaching them the arts of Necromancy, it was Drakuul that showed more promise and potential while Matrx wanted more physical teachings; Lexa had hired a teacher for the young boy while she spent most of her time, training Drakuul to follow in her footsteps, with words that would forever be tattooed in his mind.
“The world is yours, take it from those that waste their life.”
Many years later after that, in their adulthood, Drakuul had become the most powerful Immortal, and Necromancer, that the Great City, once known as London, would soon come to fear, declaring himself as the new Lord of the city.