Salvation

Comissoned https://twitter.com/hybristophilica  for $50 on 02.07.2023

Salvation
There it was again, that soft cry in the distance. At first, Val thought her mind was playing tricks
on her. After all, the dark wood she was passing through for the first time gave her the chills:
tall trees cast long shadows along her path, and several pairs of eyes hidden in bushes and
behind rocks followed her every step.
“It hurts—!” The voice suddenly shouted, startling her. She was getting closer to the source of
the noises, but she still couldn’t make out whom it came from in the thickness of the wood.
“Please, help me!”
“Who is it?” She called.
“Please, it hurts!” The cries became louder and more frequent the deeper in the woods she dared
to explore, until, after turning her head when a stick behind her cracked loudly, she finally
found him. “Oh my,” Val gasped, rushing to the whining creature on the ground.
Looking more closely, she realized the gravity of the situation. The creature was a werewolf,
only half-turned, fallen into a sharply polished bear trap. Its teeth were gripping on the boy’s
ankle, covered in blood and scratches as if he’d tried over and over again to free himself
without success. He was bent on himself, kneeling in mud and dust as he attempted again to
force the claws of the bear trap open again, only to injure his fingers too.
“Wait, let me help you,” Val promptly intervened, stepping forward and reaching out for the
trap only to have the werewolf growl loudly at her.
“Step away hunter! Leave me alone!” He hissed, glaring as his golden irises sharpened. He was
in no position to fight properly, Val knew it, but his claws were ready to attack her, had she
stepped closer to him. He was frightened to no end, but the bear trap prevented him from
moving.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she tried, taking a slow, careful step to the side. Now that she faced
him directly under the sun filtering through the branches of the trees, it was clear that he was
way younger than she thought. His furry ears were perked up and stretched wide, threatening
offense, and his fingers were spread, with long claws arching dangerously from his fingertips as
Val cleared her throat. “I heard you cry from afar, I just want to help you,” she reiterated, but
the boy shook his head.
“I know who you are! They sent you, didn't they?!” He exclaimed, tugging his long calf again
only to cry out in pain when the bear trap tightened around his flesh. He was bleeding profusely
by that point and Val didn't know what to do. She could fight him and force him out of the trap,
but if he resisted her, Val could end up injuring him further.
“Hey, we got one!” A deeper, foreign voice came from behind her suddenly. Huffs and steps
echoed from the woods and half a dozen men in black and brown uniforms arrived at their
location. Some of them cheered, some of them extracted hunting knives from their belts.
“And it’s young!”
1
“Fresh meat…”
Val didn't know why, but she instinctively put herself between the group and the stuck
werewolf. “Who are you people?” She asked, studying each one of them to take in their
equipment. A few gun and knives she’d expected, but these men were provided with leashes,
muzzles, handcuffs and chains. These weren’t lowlife criminals Val had already met multiple
times during her lifetime. These were professional hunters who knew exactly what they were
doing. Her question, in fact, fell on deaf ears as the group surrounded her with knowing smirks.
“Step away, lady. We have no interest in the likes of you. We just want the monster.”
“That’s not a monster,” Val interrupted him, but soon realized that to these hunters, in fact, that
werewolf was nothing but a monster. “I won’t let you hurt him,” she stated, extracting her own
knife from its sheath and brandishing it in front of her.
She couldn’t take all of them on her own. They were too armed and professionally trained, it
was safe to assume, for her to handle all alone. But she could do one thing.
Before any of them could react, Val grabbed a handful of dust and dirt from the ground and
threw it all around herself; she repeated the action again only to throw more dust in the hunters’
faces, then spun on her heels and reached the werewolf behind her. “I’m letting you out, but you
have to help me,” she whispered. The urgency in her voice must have been authentic, because
the boy didn't push her off nor tried to bite her when her hand, still brandishing the knife, forced
the two halves of the trap to open. The hunters were disoriented, but they had figured out her
plan: some approached her through the clouds of dust still fogging up the air, but Val was
almost done. “Pull! Pull yourself out!” She shouted at the boy, using every ounce of strength in
her hands to keep the blade of the knife in the middle of the trap and tilt it, so that the teeth
couldn’t dig in the boy’s ankle anymore.
The werewolf stumbled back soon after, freed from the death trap those hunters had placed for
him. It was clear from the beginning that he couldn’t escape on his own, anyway. The wounds
on his calf and ankle were too deep to allow him to run, so Val wrapped her arm around him
and started dragging him to the side, away from the threatening eyes of the hunters. The
surprise effect had done its job, but Val and the boy were now on the run.
“Hold onto me,” she panted, pulling him along as they walked through the woods. What had
scared her just a few minutes ago was now their lifeline: with the large trunks of the trees
breaking line of sight and the vast amount of dark bushes shielding them, it was almost
impossible for the hunters to find the runaway duo.
“Damn it! We can’t lose another one!”
Val pressed a finger on her lips to silence the cries of the werewolf, guided him behind her back
and gently prompted him to jump on her. They would be walking more slowly now, with Val
carrying him entirely on her back, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer enormously each step
he took.
2
They proceeded like that, hiding every once in a while every time one of the hunters caught a
wife of wind with the boy’s scent, or whenever the spots of blood on flowers and underbrush
gave them away, but they were on the right path to exit the woods. They needed to treat his
wounds as soon as possible.
After going around the gray rock Val remembered seeing on her path into the woods, which
meant they were close to getting out, a swoosh on their right made her head whip around.
Several half-human figures were standing there, simply watching Val and the boy.
“So you’re still alive,” one of them said. He was another werewolf, Val realized, but he looked
way different from the boy on her back, more adult, more…complete. Almost a different
species.
The boy whined as soon as he spotted the source of the words. He jumped off Val’s back and
cried out when his ankle failed to support him. “Father—“ he called, falling on the ground with
a twinge of pain.
“Is that your family?” Val asked, kneeling beside him as she watched the newcomers step
closer.
“That is no son of mine,” the other werewolf stated coldly.
The ones beside him couldn’t even bear to look at the boy. “That is a rut that was supposed to
die in the woods days ago.”
“Mother…?” The boy teared up, reaching out with his open hand as if he could actually touch
her. Val was speechless. Was that the boy’s biological family? From their words, they were
aware of the dangers the woods represented for a youngster like him, but why would they leave
him alone, then?
“You have to help him,” she stepped it, hinting at the injury of the werewolf beside her, “He
was stuck in a bear trap and he got—“
“He was supposed to die in it,” a third werewolf said, almost laughing. “Gruntpup was always
the worst of the litter.”
Val was baffled by the development of the events. If this pack was the boy’s family, how could
they let him die in the woods without batting an eye?
The oldest werewolf breathed a bitter chuckle. “He’s not one of us,” he declared, almost
shouting, “He’s a rotten hybrid mutt who can’t even fully turn. He’ll never be one of us.”
His voice resonated clearly in the wood, alarming the hunters. He’d done it on purpose.
“We have to go, come!” Val hurried the injured boy, who begrudgingly clung to her arm. His
eyes were wet with unshed tears and heartbreak.
3
“I don’t want to go! They’re my family! I don’t have anyone else!” He yelled, trembling like a
leaf.
The hunters appeared from the depths of the trees then, sweaty and fatigued, but still thirsty for
blood.
“We found him!”
“There’s more of them!”
At first, Val thought a war was about to explode. The requirements were all there: armed men
thirsty for violence, a pack of werewolves sticking together on the same side, tension crackling
through the air every second. But then something else happened, something incomprehensible
to her good heart.
“What are you waiting for? Get him!” The mother of the boy said, pointing at him. Val
instinctively shielded him from the accusatory finger and the weapons both, but the boy moved
past her to reach his family.
“Mother, father, please!” He cried out, opening his arms as he sought for salvation, but the pack
growled at him instead. Ferocious hisses and sharp teeth were all the boy received as a reply
before the first gunshot fired.
Val flinched and reached for the youngster, pulling him away. “We have to leave! They want to
hurt you too!” She yelled over the commotion that exploded. Not only did the hunters ran
towards them brandishing knives and aiming arrows, but the werewolf didn't interfere in the
least, pulling away to leave the killer more room to operate with.
Val grabbed the arm of the boy and pulled him over her back, grunting with effort but holding
on for dear life. “We have to leave this place,” she whispered to herself, taking in the terrifying
notion of hunters and werewolves wanting a kid dead, and, consequently, the woman who was
trying to protect him.
An arrow’s head planted itself near her foot and Val stumbled, almost losing grasp of the
werewolf on her back. From the corner of her eye, she noticed another hunter approaching them
with a ready knife and Val avoided him just in time: the hunter missed, but the werewolf that
pushed her violently didn’t. She fell on the ground along with the kid and, completely
surrounded in every direction, her only instinct was to pull him closer.
“Enough now!” A loud voice thundered, startling everyone. Long howls and hooting followed,
along with numerous steps approaching. “What’s going on here?” A black, majestic werewolf
growled. He wasn’t shifted completely, but his flapping tail and perked up ears signaled his
distress. Taking in the situation at hand, with Val and the kid on the ground, hunters and
werewolves on the verge of war, he angrily howled at the sky. “No hunting in my territory!”
“This mutt belongs to us,” one of the hunters replied sharply, pointing an arrow at the kid. Val’s
arms wrapped around him.
4
The newcomers, a full pack of sturdy werewolves, growled. Their leader stepped forward and
bared his fangs. “Brandishing human weapons in this part of the woods is a violation of the
truce,” he stated, grabbing one hunter’s collar and lifting him off his feet. “And you do not want
to violate the truce, do you? Because that would mean my pack and I could hunt you back.” He
spoke so calmly the threat almost went unnoticed, but the hanging hunter was slowly losing
consciousness, so the others retracted arrows and guns one by one.
The leader of the pack hummed, letting the man fall on the ground before shifting his eyes to
the boy’s family. “And you— letting your own kin become prey of men… How low have you
fallen.”
“He’s no kin to us,” the father replied. “He can die, for all we care.”
The hunters seemed tempted to take their chance once again, but the other werewolves growled
and hissed at them, managing to push them back up the hill. Val’s arms couldn’t let go of the
boy. Abandoned by his family, hunted for fun, left alone to die…her heart clenched with
emotion when his hands squeezed her body for comfort. “I’m here,” she soothed.
The leader gestured to his mates to ward off the others, but the boy’s relatives weren’t done
with him yet. “He ought to perish!” one of them, a brother, perhaps, shouted. Val covered the
boy’s ears as if it could protect him from further pain, but the youngster was still crying.
“Let me escort you out of the woods,” the leader of the other pack said, coming closer to Val
while the hunters dissipated, and offering her an open hand. “I’m Alpha. I’m beyond mortified
that you and this kid were put in such danger in my territory.”
Val accepted the hand and stood up, stumbling when the kid’s weight on her back brought her
down.
“Here, let me help with that,” Alpha said, gently pulling the young werewolf off Val and placing
him on his own shoulders. “We need to treat his wounds before they get infected. My hut is near
the river not far from here. We can take him there.”
“Won’t the hunters follow us?” Val asked, looking back with an uneasy feeling of paranoia, as if
somebody was still watching her.
“The hunters know if they violate the borders there’s no coming back. We’ve been at this for
decades now. The river is off-limits for them,” Alpha said so confidently that Val couldn’t help
but believe him.
They walked side by side for a while, following the sound of running water hiding behind
gentle hills. The werewolf boy watched his surroundings with suspicion, but the fight had
slowly abandoned his body and his heart. Too exhausted and drained, Val thought, by the cruel
intentions of his family.
“We’re here,” said Alpha after they turned around the base of a cliff. They’d followed the river
up to its source, a majestic waterfall behind which the werewolf’s hut was. The curtain of
falling water shielded them from the outside and kept the underlying cave cool and in the shade.
5
Alpha laid the injured boy on a bed made of layers of blankets and no pillow, tucking him in but
leaving his ankle out.
A makeshift cabinet of wood was in the back of the cave, alongside with more blankets, stacked
piles of cans and food and two baskets of clean water. “Please bring me the kit in the cabinet—“
Alpha started, glancing at Val as he realized he didn't even know her name yet.
“I’m Val,” she introduced herself at last, offering a peaceful smile while grabbing the medical
supplies for the other. “I haven’t thanked you for helping us out there. If you and your pack
hadn’t rescued us…I don’t know what would have happened to me and to the kid.” She glanced
in the direction of the latter, worried. “Will he be okay?”
Alpha nodded, grabbing the kit from her hands and extracting bandages and some gauze. “I’ve
seen other wolves injured like this. Bear traps are a pain, but, if you’re lucky enough to survive
them, all you get is a few ugly scars.”
Val collected a clean cloth from the pile of blankets and dipped it in water before sitting beside
the kid. “This is going to sting, but I need you to stand still, okay?” The kid didn't reply, but he
flinched when her hand grabbed his knee for support before she placed the wet cloth on the
open wounds on his ankle.
“Hurts—!” The boy cried, sitting up and reaching for Val’s hands to stop her. Alpha, though,
was ready to help.
“No, kid, let her work,” he muttered under his breath. His tails flapped right and left, agitated
like he was, and despite the boy’s complaints and whines, he managed to hold him firmly down
while Val cleaned his wounds. “Now the bandages,” she muttered, wrapping sterile gauzes
around the boy’s calf and ankle, tight enough not to slip out and to hold the wounded flesh
firmly.
“That’ll do,” Alpha nodded, pulling a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling, kid?”
The boy stared at them, switching from Alpha to Val and vice versa, but didn't speak a word. He
was still trembling, Val noticed, despite they’d stopped touching him for a while, and he was
pale not only from the loss of blood, but also from…fear. He was still scared, even now that
they were safe in Alpha’s hut. Val’s hands instinctively reached out to comfort him, but the boy
flinched back, hiding behind the warm blankets of Alpha’s bed.
“How about I make us some food? I bet we’re all starving,” she said, standing up and heading
to the stacks of cans in the back of the cave.
Alpha stood up too. “Good idea. I’ll go check on my mates to make sure the hunters have been
taken care of, but I’ll be back shortly. You hang in there,” he said, looking at Val and nodding at
the boy before making his way out around the waterfall.
Val sighed, opening the rough cans of shelf-stable fish Alpha had probably hunted himself. “So,
do you have a name, kiddo?”
6
The boy didn't reply. And after hearing him being called Gruntpup by his relatives, Val couldn’t
blame him for dodging the question. She placed the fish on a flat plate of metal, then looked
around for coal or other fuel she could use to light up a fire. “Where do you think Alpha keeps
his—“
“There you are,” a low growl came from behind her. Val jumped, spinning around only to find a
turned werewolf standing in the cave. His orange eyes were sharp and pointed at the kid.
“Father couldn’t finish the mission himself, so I took the matter in my own claws,” he
continued.
A shiver ran down her neck at the realization that Alpha said the hunters couldn’t find them
here, but he never mentioned the other werewolves. “Leave,” she stated, putting down the pan
and slowly making her way to the entrance of the cave, where the werewolf was standing.
The kid was shaking like a leaf, watching Val as she reached for her knife. The intruder was
faster, though, and jumped on her before she could arm herself: his fangs were wide open in the
attempt to bite her neck, and his paws pressed down Val’s shoulders to keep her body on the
ground. Val knew how to fight, though: she bent her legs and wrapped them around the beast's
body, pushing his lower half off her and consequently flipping him down. The werewolf slipped
away from her grasp before Val could attack him again, got a running start and pounced. This
time, Val didn't have the time to react properly.
She lifted her prosthetic leg just in time to stick it between the two rows of sharp teeth coming
at her. The clashing sound that arose from it was appalling, but not as much as the terrified gasp
that came from the boy. He didn't know Val couldn’t feel the pain in her leg, couldn’t feel the
fangs digging deep in the metal while she pushed herself up and kicked the beast right in the
middle, between the frontal legs.
The werewolf cried out, unable to breathe, and collapsed on the floor of the cave, choking and
wheezing. Val rushed to the kid to check if he was injured from the unexpected fight, but the
boy bit her hand as soon as it caressed his face. Val cried out and retracted it, watching spots of
blood blossom over the palm, but she didn't have it in her to scold him, to tell him off, after
everything he’d been through. “It’s okay,” she said instead, “We’re okay.”
Alpha hurried in the cave, panting from the run. “I heard a commotion. What happened?” He
asked, then his eyes fell on the struggling werewolf on the ground. He bared his teeth and
grabbed the heavy body like it didn't weigh at all. “What are you doing in my hut?!”
“I came to finish the job,” the beast hissed, but he was in no position to fight any longer. “That
mutt needs to die.”
Alpha kicked the werewolf again before throwing him violently out of the cave. “I will kill you
and your kin, if I ever see you here again!” He shouted.
A tear fell on Val’s injured hand, and she realized she’d started tearing up. “This boy, why
would they want to wish him dead?” She whispered, talking to Alpha but mostly speaking her
mind out loud to vent the frustration, the despair the kid’s situation brought in her. “I—I want
him to be safe, Alpha. I want him to be able to live without fear. To wake up knowing that
7
there’s people who care about him out there,” she ranted, turning to look at the scared kid. “I
want him to know he’s wanted and loved.”
Alpha sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I’m not going to lie to you, Val. This place,
these woods…it’ll always be dangerous for him. Not only because of the hunters, but because
he doesn't have a pack anymore.”
“Then I’ll take him away with me,” Val blurted out, wiping away angry tears and clenching her
fists despite the sting of the fresh wound. “I’ll take him home.”
“And adopt a hybrid? That’s no easy job, you know,” Alpha frowned, glancing at her and at the
boy. “He’s not used to any of that. It will take a long time, and a whole lot of work.”
“I’ll put in the work, you’ll see,” Val said, resolute. She turned to the boy and tilted her head.
“I’ll adopt you. No hunters will come after you from now on. No werewolf will harm you, as
long as I’ll be taking care of you. I promise you…Liam,” she whispered.
“Liam?” Alpha asked.
Val smiled. “Yes, Liam. This boy needs a clean slate to start with. A new name for a new life.
What do you say?”
The boy tilted his head, and, for the first time, he didn't seem terrified of his surroundings. He
looked down, still silent, but the tension on his shoulders dissipated slowly.
Alpha grinned. “Sounds like a plan, then. I can’t leave my pack on its own here. I have
responsibilities, but I promise I’ll drop by every once in a while. It’ll be good for the kid to have
werewolves connections.”
“You can help him control his shifts,” Val prompted, “And teach him how to use his skills and
senses.”
“That I can do,” Alpha smiled, kneeling in front of the bed as he stared intensely at the boy.
“Life hasn’t been easy on you, kid. But the tough part is over now. You can rest.”
Val resisted the urge to pet Liam’s head again, even though this time she had the feeling he
might not bite her. “I still have to make some food,” she said instead, standing up and starting
from where she’d left off while Alpha sat on the bed with Liam.
By the time food was ready, both werewolves were dozing off more peacefully than Val could
have hoped.
She smiled, tucking them in.
8