Flash Fic February Day Ninteen (02/19/2022) Prompt: Senses
The forest had embraced her again, welcoming her into its verdant grasp.
But still, Hecate knew something was wrong; had known it since she and Stephen had heard that howl three weeks ago. The howl that, despite her better judgement, and Stephen’s warnings, she was here to investigate. But you never denied a Prince’s orders if you were smart, and Hecate liked to think she was.
She didn’t know why Dante had picked her for this, there were several better options at hand; it was, after all, the Gangrel’s job to deal with the things that howled in the woods at night, not a Malkavain-turned-Tremere’s. But perhaps the Prince was more short-staffed than he led on. So she hadn’t complained as he gave her his task, and found herself deep, deep within the verdant forest once more.
She and Artemis were far from the clearing where she had died, but when she had opened her senses to the world around her, her vision sharpening, her hearing become more clear than it ever had in life, she had known the right way to go. It had reminded her of being guided by the stars, when she had been able to hear their whispers and screams. But now, she only had herself and Artemis to guide her.
She could see her fox familiar clearly, her white fur in stark contrast to the dark forest around them, as she scouted out ahead, nose to the ground, her black-tipped tail swishing as she concentrated. Despite the full moon hanging above them in the clear sky, the forest was covered in inky darkness, the tree cover too thick for the moonlight to fully reach the forest floor.
Despite Hecate’s heightened senses, she couldn’t hear any signs of life; there were no cries, no chirps, no rustling. There was nothing. It seemed animal smart enough to care about its own self-preservation had fled this area and not returned… Hecate regretted coming here alone. She should’ve at least brought Stephen with her, and if not him, than another Kindred. But she was already deep in the woods now; it was too late to turn back.
She distracted herself by watching the leaves swaying above her, enjoying how her enhanced eyesight made her able to pick out individual leaves amongst the trees, and how the stars would occasionally peek out at her. Hecate was snapped into attention by Artemis’s soft bark; she’d found something. Her familiar was far ahead, sat at the base of a large tree, anxiously looking up at the trunk. Hecate jogged to catch up to her, but she had seen it from yards away, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she neared.
Scored into the bark of the tree were claw marks, deep and jagged. She put her hand over them, tracing the claw marks with her fingers. Artemis whined anxiously, and Hecate reached down to give her a comforting scratch behind the ears. Hecate looked at the trees ahead of her, the sinking feeling deepening as she saw most of the trees had been marked in a similar way.
There’s a full moon tonight.
Hecate cursed herself under her breath. Why on earth had she come here alone? Of course she had considered the possibility of a werewolf, but she hadn’t truly believed it could be, not when the packs roamed in the Northern parts of the state, not here, But, with the full moon hanging over her, she felt silly for not realizing it sooner.
She pulled her silver knife from her bag, backing away from the tree. She desperately tried to remember when she and Stephen had been here; had there been a full moon? But she couldn’t recall, she’d been too distracted with other things. As she backed away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her.
“Okay,” she breathed, calling Artemis to her side. “Fuck this. Dante can get the Gangrel to do their fucking job. We’re leaving.” She clutched the knife close; it was her ritual dagger, small and not very long, but it could at least do enough damage to a werewolf to make it pause long enough for her to get away.
She hoped.
Hecate sent Artemis ahead of her, to leave the forest first; she wouldn’t let her familiar get hurt because she was too dumb to get someone to come with her. So she let Artemis lead the way out, that horrible feeling of being watched never leaving her. It followed her as she and her familiar wove their way through the trees, a heavy weight that wouldn’t leave her alone.
And then she heard it.
The sound of heavy footfalls, following her, snapping branches and crushing leaves underfoot. And the animalistic breathing that went with it. She risked a glance behind her. Trying to catch a glimpse of what was hunting her, and say a pair of blood-red eyes, filling with killing intent, and the wolf-like body that they belonged too; hunched and running on all fours, thick, long claws digging into the ground as it ran.
Hecate broke into a flat out sprint, grateful her undead heart no longer beat, grateful she could no longer be out of breath, as the werewolf bore down on her. She knew she could run like this for hours, at least until the sun rose and killed her.
But Artemis couldn’t.
The fox was lagging, waiting for Hecate to catch up, pausing every so often to make sure Hecate hadn’t gotten lost. But she was panting, already tired. And Hecate wouldn’t let her die. Feeling down the bond that connected her and her familiar, she gave one last order. Run. There was no room for questions, or to disobey. So Hecate watched as her beloved familiar ran off, darting into the shadows, her white form vanishing as she left Hecate to face the werewolf alone.
