Richard Agan was a long time ruler of the Innes Clan. He was
quiet, not publicly well known, but powerful within his circle of influence.
Family portraits, oil paintings mostly, were displayed in the old castle
in Morayshire, Scotland and at a camouflaged mansion tucked away in the Laurel
Highlands of Western Pennsylvania.
Few people locally knew the aristocrat and his family. He was indeed a
product of the 19th century Scottish Baron, a known practitioner of witchcraft,
from a line of witches. Karen, his wife, was the daughter of James
Greyburn; the Earl of Greyburn’s great-grandson, another European family with
supernatural abilities. They were werewolves.
The combination of these two family lines brought a she-devil into the world, a
women known for being cruel and malicious, a shape-shifter, and a werewolf.
In public, she seemed polished, poised, and a good Christian. Karen,
a benefactor knew for her contributions to the community and an heiress of her
families’ fortune, she was a werewolf incognito.
At night she stalked the woods hunting her prey, the unsuspecting owl or deer,
pounced upon from behind, above, or crushed in a frontal attack unable to move
from being startled nearly to death. Her stealth practiced since
childhood was excellent, giving her the advantage to catch unsuspecting
creatures.
Lying in wait for the full moon this Sunday, October 6th, Wren had calculated
the days for her revenge of the old man in the woods, who was a caretaker of
the woodland creatures and others. She had not drawn human blood in her
fifty-some years of living, but David had to be dealt with. He had, on
more than one occasion cost her dearly. Intervening on behalf of the
woodland animals and his fellow man, David was a champion of good. He
detested her abuse of animals and people for sport. He knew of her
cruelty and malicious heart. David was a supernatural being as well, an
angel named for the human who had loved God with all his heart.
Being human and supernatural is nothing new. It is like the fight of good
and evil. It has been going on from the beginning of time. Time is
relative in space and not just another Einstein theory.
Time, being not limited to our human constraints, does not take away from
events that curdle our blood and make our skin crawl. Even with
television and movie violence deadening our sensitivities, nothing prepares us
for the fight to the death of supernatural beings. It is a cosmic event
that man is still trying to understand scientifically.
David lived a quiet life. A maintenance man of the Sportsman’s Hunt Club
he did his work with efficiency and humility. A skilled laborer, whose
knowledge and aptitude for fixing any sort of mechanical or electrical device,
was worth his weight in gold. The other maintenance men liked him as well
for his willingness to go the extra mile and help out with other duties besides
his own assigned tasks.
Wanting to be more human then divine has its cost. David’s angelic powers
had decreased over the years as his humanity, his humanness, his flesh, and bone
becoming more of a reality. Outwitting Wren had become more
challenging, but he had been victorious on numerous accounts and not terribly
fearful of her sporting events. Although lately, it seemed she was
becoming more vicious than in years past, a bit more evil then just cruel.
Working late into the evening in the fall of the year is a pleasant experience;
especially, during the full moon with the dance between light and shadow, the
earthy smells, and cool air. David had been helping out with the pheasant
hunt all day and was now returning to his work to prepare the lawn mower for
tomorrow. Richard’s associates from the Bilderberg Group had packed up
and were well on their way home to other parts of the world.
Kneeling beside the tractor in the old horse barn at the back of the property,
David did not sense the coming attack, nor did he have time to think his way
through a counter response. With his last energy of angelic power he
punched the silver tipped Philips-head screwdriver that he had, had in his hand
into the grey werewolf’s coat, penetrating through to the heart as the old girl
pounced slicing his throat.
She cried out with the horrific sound of a wounded creature caught in a trap
unaware. Wren howled in pain dashing off into the woods, the blood
rushing from her body, death imminent. David quietly slumped to the floor
of the barn as a great white light enveloped his being, the full moon the only
witness to this supernatural battle.
David’s body was never found, his fate unknown. A missing person’s report
was filed October 10th. Missed by his fellow laborers, but never mourned.
He would be forgotten in time.
Late, in November, a hunter crossing the creek found the decaying worm ridden
carcass of a werewolf. He paused a moment in recognition of his daughter.
Richard, now aware of the fate of his missing daughter will write the
headline and obituary of the heiress for the local newspaper.
Headline read: “Wren Agan Dies in Fiery Car Wreak: Cause Unknown.”
The charred car was found on the embankment of the Loyalhanna Creek in
Derry Township. Her body burnt and not recognizable, dental records were
used to make the identification. The exact time of the accident unknown
and the secluded location of the vehicle will leave her death a mystery.
The obituary will be in tomorrow’s edition of the Tribune Review.
Evil does not always win. Good does not always triumph. Somewhere
in space a black hole has formed another void in the universe. Death has
a place in space; an entity of supernatural consequences.
