Okay this is my first time really writing in fisrt person so please let me know what u think.

Chapter 1

Devil’s Canyon

“Raphael,” called my mother from the door of our cabin. “Bring in some water when you finish with the stock, please.”

“Yes, Ma,” I answered as I entered the barn, and though I didn’t realize it, the end of my life.

My name is Raphael Cameron, my mother was very religious and so had named for the Archangel Raphael. Talk about twisted irony. I prefer to go by Rafe. I lived with my parents in a lonely cabin in a place called Devil’s Canyon. My father was a wanted man and so we had lived in hiding for the entire fourteen years of my life. My father picked the canyon because people avoided it, the Indians said it was cursed and had given it its name. Though most whites didn’t believe in the curse, the place had a creepy feel that kept them away anyway. The only other human inhabitant was a crazy old black man whom we rarely saw. My family knew that the canyon earned its name. There were things living in Devil’s Canyon; things that no man wanted to meet. You knew from the way the animals acted, from the sniffing at the door some nights, the strange unearthly noises, and the shadows during the day, seen only out of the corner of your eye. There were dark things, evil things…not that any of them had ever troubled us directly, not until that day.

As I walked into the barn I heard the mare scream in terror, followed by a low growl and the sickening sound of ripping flesh and then the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. I grabbed the shot gun from the work bench and ran to the opposite end of the barn, the end that opened into our corral. I braced for the worst, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Blood. God, there was so much blood. A lake of it surrounded the torn body of our mare. I froze, struggling against the urge to vomit the bile gathering in my throat. Then the mare moved, well, something inside her corpse moved, a very big something. It backed out of her belly, covered in blood and gore, horse intestines hanging from its jaws. It was a wolf…at least it looked at first glance like a wolf, but that’s about where the similarity ended. It was almost three times the size of a normal wolf, its coat was black w/ reddish tips (not counting the blood), and its forelimbs were more cat or bear like than lupine. They were thicker and designed to swipe crosswise in front with six inch talons of jet. And its eyes, they were twin blazing yellow hell pits, gleaming with malice and scarier, soulless intelligence. It dropped the entrails and grinned savagely at me, revealing long, bloody fangs.

I shook off my paralysis and started to swing the shot-gun up. The demon-wolf, I didn’t know what it was at the time, leapt at me over the corpse with a feral snarl. I noticed one of the fangs was crooked, hell of thing to notice at moment like that. I was being attacked by a snaggle-toothed bastard that apparently had bad vision too because he missed me…mostly. It clipped me on the shoulder with enough force to send me sprawling, the shot-gun flying from my hands. Before I could grab it the monster was on me. It seized my leg, fangs sliced into my calf and held. Then it proceeded to shake me like some kind of chew toy. I screamed. The pain was horrible; my leg was being ripped away, while my body jack-knifed in midair. Talk about whiplash.

My screams brought my father at a run; he skidded to a halt thirty feet away and yelled at the freak. The monster dropped me in the dirt and turned toward my father, readying itself for a spring. Even through the pain and terror I was mad. Hell I was an inferno of rage. This bastard had killed my horse. And then it had practically torn my leg off. He was going down. I rolled to the left, ignoring the agony that streaked up my leg, and snatched the gun. The monster noticed and switched his leap to me. I got the gun up just as he slammed onto my chest, his hind legs on my stomach. I let him have both barrels right in the face. I got little satisfaction out of the last minute surprise in his livid yellow eyes because as his head exploded I was preoccupied with his hind feet digging into my belly. Six inch talons ripped into my abdomen like knives through butter.

In seconds my father was pulling the thing off me and screaming for my mother. Through blurred vision I saw her coming running from the house, saw my father trying desperately to keep my entrails inside my body and at the same time stop the blood. They were both crying. The last thing I remember before the blackness enfolded me was my father’s voice.

“Hold on, Rafe. Hold on, son.” He sounded so far away…

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I crawled from the dark pit back into groggy awareness after what seemed like an eternity. Sound came back first. I could hear my parents, my mother was sobbing. I heard the wet squelch of a blood-soaked bandage hitting the floor. Heard my father curse.

“Damn it! I can’t stop it; he’s lost too much blood.” I heard my own wet choking breath. I was drowning in my own blood. I heard the bed creak as my body went into convulsions, coughing up more blood. I heard it all below me. That was when my eyes snapped open.

“Holy shit!” I screamed soundlessly. I was looking down on the room, I saw myself. I watched in horror as I died, watched my body writhing in its death throes. It was over, I was dead. My parents cried, my father slammed his fist on the table and screamed at God, for all the good it did. I watched their grief for hours from my spot on the ceiling. I started to wonder what would happen now; would an angel come to get me? Would I suddenly fall into a flaming pit? Would I just fade into nothingness or remain to wander the world for all eternity, a lost soul?

I heard them first, the monsters. They stopped at the corral before they came to the house; stopped to feed on the corpses of the mare and the wolf. I tried to warn my parents, I yelled and screamed, but they didn’t hear me. Then the monsters reached the house, attracted by my blood. They were reptilian, four feet tall with large black eyes. They had three long talons on their hands and feet and fang-filled mouths. Five Chupacabras entered my house before my parents realized they were there. My father grabbed a knife from the table but he didn’t stand a chance. I saw one circle behind and leap onto his back. It dug its talons into his shoulders and ribs then plunged its fangs into his throat as its weight bore him to the floor. My mother screamed as two of them cornered her and then ripped her apart.

Horror, grief, and more rage than I had ever felt poured into me. The rage rose until it drowned all other emotions. My vision hazed red and suddenly I felt a strong pull downward. Then I was in my body, looking up at the Chupacabra leaning over me. I was on the monster in a second, my own fangs lodging in its throat. Dark green blood filled my mouth and stung my tongue. It had an acidic taste, no iron in it I guess. I dropped the corpse and struck the nearest monster a blow across its belly. The thing flew into the wall across the room, its entrails hanging out of the rips from my talons. I didn’t stop to think why I had fangs or talons for that matter. I just let the rage direct me. I wanted to kill. So I did. I shredded them all, ripped them up into tiny chunks of green-bloody scaly gray flesh. I chased the last one out into the yard. I caught it before it made the barn.

Under the silver light of the full moon I howled my victory. I felt the adrenaline and the bloodlust coursing through my veins and I reveled in it. I was strong, never before had I felt such power. Never before had I been so aware, my senses were screaming. My hearing was incredible; I could hear a mouse breathing over a hundred yards away. But that was nothing. Nothing compared the smells. I could smell everything. The world was a painting of delicately layered scents. I lifted my nose to the wind and scented a coyote three miles down the canyon. I smelled his fear, it was intoxicating. Then I smelled blood, the mare, humans…my parents.

I drifted back to the house, a wraith on silent paws. I saw the mangled bodies and the scent of the blood hit me full force. My mind exploded, frenzied, mad with hunger. My mouth dripped with saliva, my tongue slipped out to caress my black lips in anticipation. I growled deep in my chest and stalked towards the nearest body. It was still warm; I lapped at the puddle of blood beside the belly. The tangy flavor burst in my mouth like fireworks. It was delicious. I stepped closer to sink my fangs in to the flesh. And I saw the face…I recoiled. My mind returned with a snap and I ran out the door. I had been about to eat my father. What the hell was wrong with me!

I ran down to the spring below our house and sat at the edge. There was plenty of light cast by the moon so I gazed into the water. Glowing emerald green eyes stared back at me out a black furred face, over a bloody-fang filled muzzle. I whined. I turned to my mistress in the sky and I sung my grief, my loss, my misery. I was alone. And I was a monster.