An Individual has a conscience a choice between good and evil. We are taught from a young age that being evil is bad -from all your disney films to blockbuster movies showing heroes fighting evil and winning- and its frowned upon by society. To keep people from doing bad things and to keep society as we know it from descending to a machiavellian chaos where people have dubious morals and its every man for himself, the governments created prisons, asylums to keep them separated from us thereby perpetuating the ideology from primary socialisation that bad things happen to bad people and bad things have negative consequences and nothing ever happens to good people that good always conquers evil that nothing is above the law...
Now what do you do if if the bad people are beyond the law?, what do you do if these people are Werewolves?
The thump, thump of my trainers jerk my whole body trying to keep in tandem with my rapidly beating heart which threatens to beat out of its cage.
They gave us a twenty minute head start as if showing a mercy out of a kindness of their blackened hearts. They told us to run and we ran, like frightened animals running away from predators, from certain death. I don't know where I'm going but we all scatter into the forest each of us hoping praying to make it out alive. There's enough ambient light to see but not enough to see the treacherous roots waiting to trip you up.
I see that a girl has fallen and another one is helping her. I don't stop better them between me and certain death. I vaguely run downhill hoping to get to the road where cars might pass. The trees are thick and they whip me mercilessly as I run, my sides are hurting, I want to stop but I push on forward working my legs harder. I can't climb a tree they would probably smell me and drag me down I would be a sitting duck, an ostrich sticking its head in the sand.
A scream rips through the forest and is immediately cut of a shiver runs down my spine. Another one immediately follows that and my mouth opens in a silent scream. I feel hunted I am hunted. My hair stands on end, my mind a constant staccato of run,run,run in time with my still beating heart. I pray fervently for divine intervention I'm not meant to die like this, run down like a gazelle in the wild. I am not food, this doesn't make sense it isn't natural.
"What do you want child" a voice inside my head says. It hurts it invades my mind leaving no room for me I feel as though I am bursting at the seams. I fall down on my knees clutching my head in agony "What" I can barely think vaguely aware of the dying screams surrounding, me acutely aware of my impending demise. "You called and I answered It would be a shame to let all that potential go to waste hmm?" "God yes!" I say getting used to the voice "No not God but close" The voice says amused. I feel an irrational anger at this, this is life and death, my life and death and it is amused. I personally don't see anything funny "Child you would do well to respect me after all I hold your life in my hands" I feel suitably cowed I could feel the power of those words bearing down on me and I am petrified 'What have I done' It seems I am out of the frying pan and into the fire. The voice laughs "Nothing so dramatic dear, I will save you, but it comes with conditions and rewards off course I am not like the other Gods, it seems you won the lottery child, getting me" "I'll do anything" I terrifies me that I would, the voice feels my conviction because it says "Good choice child we have a deal now run little red run"
I come too, to realise that I've been running all this time. I can hear them howling right behind me I hear branches breaking behind me.
The human being is a wonderful thing even when all hope is lost, they still persevere, they strive to survive. This is the human race at its best.
I still grasp onto hope like a dying man I know it's hopeless but I don't stop I have pride I run like the hounds of hell are behind, which they are. I feel hot breath on the nape of my neck and I know this is it the end. I trip on a root 'Fuck' my mind supplies helpfully the ground comes rushing up to greet me.