Dark Mark

The planet = Creperum (like Earth but much bigger)

Meet Zagon:

Species – Demon

Hair color – black

Eye color – blue

Age - 21

Date of birth – 31 October

Star sign – Scorpio

Favorite color – black

Height – 191 cm

Meet Alpha King Xavier Black

Species – Werewolf

Hair color – brown

Eye color – green

Age – 632

Meet King Oberon

Species – Elf

Hair color – snow-white

Eye color – blue

Age – 680

***POV Zagon

I am NOT okay.

Nope, I’m definitely not okay. My father, whom I call ‘sir’, was right – I’m a monster.

I breathe so fast, it feels as if I’m not breathing at all. A crisp cold wind blows through my hair from the west, hinting that something dark is coming – or maybe it’s already here. Then it sweeps playfully through the trees, bringing along the cries of people long dead.

Next, it tucks on my new unfamiliar form, tickling through the thick black fur as if it’s teasing me into accepting my new reality and I struggle to breathe again.

So not okay!

In just a fleeting moment, I became something new, something dark, something dangerous, my true nature. The beast hiding inside me forced himself out, but I didn’t sign up for this! What if it’s something I don’t want to be? Do I even have a choice?

But I’m guessing not. Here in Creperum, everybody has to be what they’re born to be – and it seems I was born from hell.

I look up at the sky, the green-and-blue planet is floating peacefully between the clouds as always, and I wonder for the millionth time what it looks like up close. Earth is what it’s called and there, apparently, everybody is the same species – humans. But even though we share the same sun, I can only watch it from here, wondering, dreaming, speculating.

I try to regulate my breath and watch the dusk break, bringing darkness with it. The rise of twin blue moons, mute and mystic, pierce the semi-darkness with somber glints of light that penetrate the landscape below.

This light enhances the low-lying fog that coats the two figures standing frozen next to the new grave, seemingly unaware of my piercing eyes.

The men cling to their coats, pulling them tighter around their tall bodies with each slow ticking second. They’ve been standing there for a while.

Long forgotten now is the warmth from the sun, even though it just recently disappeared behind the mountains to the south, and I take shelter behind the tree trunk, hoping to shield myself from the harsh temperature.

This was an extra rude day, long not over by the looks of things. I watch silently, concealed in the shadows, not willing to intrude into the sadness that covers the two grievers.

Their severe mood echoes mine. I look down at my unfamiliar bloodstained black paws in the snow.

A single drop of red drips down onto the white powdery ice as if to torment me, proof that I’ve become the monster my father always blames me to be. A woman appears like a ghost from the snow, her face a blur … but I’m sure she’s smiling at me and warmth vibrates from her and wraps around me. Then she drifts to hang over the new gravesite for a few moments … and just like that, she’s gone, taking the warmth with her. Who is she? Is it her grave? Did I kill her?

The pain of my fur being pulled harshly at my side quickly jolts my big head to look at the cause of my discomfort – a tiny ghostly body is cradled on my back, feet dangling down my sides while one small fist clings to my hair like shit to paper. A strange silver bracelet around her wrist shoots tiny sparks around as it reflects the moonlight. It’s like something I’ve never seen before, a delicate chain with three interlinked charms hanging from it; a wolf, a heart, and a leave. The charms shine as if to remind me of something I forgot.

She lets out a soft snuffle and nudges her head deeper into my neck, her long blonde hair is like a contrasting waterfall against my black fur. I try to look at her face but it’s a blur … the same as the lady before. But something deep inside me urges me to protect the little spiritual bundle.

I look back at the two men, contemplating my next step. Can I trust them? Should I move into the dim light where they can see me? I give a small step forward but then hesitate again.

Will my new form scare them? Will they judge me for being a killer or even blame me for the death of their loved one they just buried? I’m not big on the trusting issue … not with my background.

A sudden burst of wind abruptly blows snowflakes that slap my face with icy fingers and clear my thoughts, pulling my glare with it to the side where five dark body heaps break the crisp virtue of the snow. The wind plays with the loose pieces of their coats, flapping them around like mortal waves humming a soft lullaby of wrongdoing – my wrongdoing. I killed someone … well a few someones to be specific.

Then it continues to howl and whistle through the trees as if possessed leaving me to go back to my thoughts again. But no matter how hard I think, my mind is distorted … as if something is missing.

The girl sniffs again and something dampens my collar, a thin dribble of warm liquid. Can ghosts drool? Yuck! Girls! But at least it’s better than her peeing on me I suppose. That’s if ghosts pee. Flip, I don’t seem to know too much about ghosts.

The tall lean man suddenly moves, and I instinctively pull back into the shadows. He stumbles through the thick snow to the first corpse, giving it a hard kick as if to make sure it’s not going to resurrect.

“Fucking bastards!” He throws his head back, his long silver hair catches the light from the moons, giving it a blue shimmer. He sniffs hard staring up into the starless night.

“She put up one hell of a fight Oberon,” says the beefy hulk walking towards his friend. I prick my ears, trying to figure out who they are and what side they're on.

“A fortunate stroke of serendipity, getting killed by vampires twice. Five years ago they killed her with her mate, and now she’s officially gone,” says the one called Oberon with another loud snotty sniff.

I don’t understand all the high words he’s using – how can somebody die more than once? I always thought that if you’re dead, you’re dead. Yeh, supernaturals can heal and have powers, but still – dead is dead even for supernaturals. But what do I know … hell, I didn’t even know I was supernatural up to a while ago. And I for certain didn’t believe in ghosts. But now I have one clinging to my back like a nut.

“Something ripped these vampires to pieces,” the brawny continues, squatting down next to one body. The first man, Oberon, lowers his head, wiping over his eyes with his sleeve. He looks at the body and frowns. Okay, here it comes … I’m going to be locked up, thrown into a prison cell, or worse - banned to the Shadowlands. I’m a murderer and murderers get punished – that’s the law.

“It looks like wolf bites,” Oberon says sounding rather surprised.

“My thoughts exactly. But what would a wolf be doing out here?”

“Why do you always assume I got all the answers – I’m not psychic for goodness sake,” Oberon says.

“Isn’t elves supposed to be smart and well-rounded?”

“Gmf! It doesn’t mean we know everything. Why don’t you rather start sniffing and find the girl? Or is that alpha nose too old to smell anything, Xavier?”

“Fuck you, pointy-ears.”

The crackling sound of breaking bones fills the air and then as if in slow-motion the man transforms into a dark wolf. The animal shakes his big head, he’s huge. Okay, so that clears up what Xavier is.

I give a step forward, intrigued by the magnificent animal and I instantly freeze at the sound of a twig breaking under my paw. I blink my eyes and swear softly, eyeing the little piece of wood sticking out from under my foot.

The wolf's ears twitch and then his yellow eyes penetrate the darkness where I’m hiding. I know he knows I’m there so I slowly move from behind the tree into the open space, my heart racing where it jumped into my throat, obstructing my windpipe and I struggle to breathe again. I’m not scared but I instinctively somehow know I can’t win this fight, definitely not with the little phantom package on my back. And right there is the reason for my slight panic attack. I don’t want her to get hurt, that’s if spirits can even get hurt. Damn, I need to read up about ghosts when I get back home.

Both beings stare at me in disbelief, shock, skepticism, surprise … or a combination of those emotions. For a while we just stand in the cold, eyeballing each other silently.

A deep frown forms between Oberon’s thick white brows and he continues as if talking to himself.

“A fucking black hound. I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Grey, yes, but black? In all my years. You see it too, don’t you?” He looks back at the wolf who just shakes his head while rolling his eyes. I let out a deep growl. I can’t talk now can I? And I need them to focus on my problems, not my hound.

The wolf turns back into a very naked man and I must admit I’ve never seen muscles and parts that size ever before. He’s easily twice as big as any man I’m acquainted with.

“Ug, let me just fix this first.” The elf snaps his fingers, and with a blue flash he holds out some clothes to the naked man. To say my jaw dropped is an understatement. Is that magic? It’s so freaking cool! Amazing stuff. I wish Luan was here to see all this.

“Just cover that old royal dick of yours – p.l.e.a.s.e.” He pulls out the last word sarcastically pouting his mouth.

The wolfman gets dressed with a sigh.

“Yeh, you’re just jealous. Elves got the brains but wolves got the tools!” Xavier bumps Oberon with his shoulder almost causing him to lose his balance. These two oldies are quite funny, I must say.

The elf looks physically and mentally drained as he glares at Xavier taking an extra deep breath, softly counting by himself. When he gets to 5 he speaks again.

“You can be such an alpha sometimes.”

“I AM an alpha,” Xavier sniggers, “At least we know now what tore the vamps apart.”

“Yeh, but he’s BLACK!” Oberon shouts out and I jolt up and frantically look around. I’m in my room. Ug, I’ve dreamed again … always the same dream! I wipe my hand over my face and lay down again, clutching a pillow tight against my chest.