Free Travel Bug by David Kempf Page B

Hitchens.”
    Father Darrow was very unhappy with the man who was investigating them. The secrets kept here could never be revealed to the outside world or there would literally be hell to pay. Hitchens was an obvious skeptic and could not be convinced the monastery was what it appeared to be on the surface. The quicker he left with his men back to Aragon, the better for all who dwelled in the monastery.
    Hitchens woke up screaming. Someone had struck the back of his head with a large stone. His head was bleeding.
    “The priests and the wolves are…”
    “What?” the priest asked.
    “You, you don’t know what’s going on here.”
    It was a young boy. He was dressed in filthy rags and peaking behind a nearby tree, desperately trying to get his full attention.
    “One of them killed my younger brother yesterday. You performed the final rites on him. Stop these monsters, please for God’s sake……”
    “What?”
    “This order, this monastery is cursed! Stop these things before…”
    The creatures came out of nowhere. The wolves ran behind the boy. He looked up at them and showed little signs of fear.
    “We are a poor, suffering, starving people. I don’t fear you.”
    The wolves looked at him. They almost seemed to anticipate what he would say next.
    “What manner of beasts are these wolves?” asked Hitchens.
    “I shall tell you.”
    A wolf bit the boy’s hair and grabbed onto it. He walked backwards slowly and the boy was dragged with him.
    “Stop!” screamed Father Darrow.
    “You can’t command these beasts,” said Father Hitchens.
    The amazing thing was that Father Darrow could do just that.
    “Put the boy down, now.”
    The wolf let go of the boy.
    “Boy, go back to your home and run like hell.”
    “Father, the truth shall set you free,” the boy answered.
    “The truth will get you torn to shreds, lad. Please run home.
    “Fine, Father but…”
    “Go!”
    The boy ran as fast as he could deep into the woods. The wolves stood still in front of the priest who commanded them. Father Hitchens could not believe this absurd nightmare taking place in the light of day.
    “Father, what manner of beasts is this?”
    “We have no time to talk about such matters, Father Hitchens. Not now. These creatures must be dealt with. Later, we will discuss this. I beg you to leave as soon as you can. The idea of staying here is very foolish.”
    “Father, you leave me little choice. Men! Now is the time!”
    The wolves found themselves surrounded by men. They were the fearless, armed wolf slayers that the priest had promised earlier.
    “These are the men I brought. This was their purpose, to kill your wolves. There must be a hundred wolves here now,” said Father Hitchens.
    “There are almost as many men,” said Father Darrow.
    “Yes,” Father Hitchens answered.
    “What do you have to say to the wolves now, Father?”
    “Kill them all, quickly and with mercy, please,” said Father Darrow.
    Father Hitchens could not believe his own ears. Who was this man who commanded the beasts to fight according to his own will?
    “Fight the wolves and win,” screamed Father Hitchens.
    “They will not win,” said Father Darrow confidently.
    “How do you know this?”
    “God is on our side! You are not the first or the hundred and first men who have attempted to kill us.”
    The wolves and the men fought for hours. Father Hitchens could not believe how quickly his slayers were being slain. Father Darrow could not believe how bravely these good men fought the wolves. They were the most noble and daring creatures he had ever seen before. The fighting seemed to never end. It was pure chaos with men and beasts fighting. Bloodshed and horror surrounded everything that could be seen. The terrors of being eaten alive were not nightmares anymore but things now made real.
    “This is madness, Father,” said Hitchens.
    “Perhaps it is…”
    “How long must this go on?”
    “It will go on until the death of one side.