A/N: Okay, I just finished reading an awesome book so I thought I might write this! Please enjoy!
The brand new cobblestone streets were cold and grey as the young girl trudged along with the group of mourners. The wind blew slightly, pushing her blonde hair into her eyes and the once dark blue, star lit sky had turned gray with clouds, giving this day an even sadder appearance. The towns reverend had past that morning, she had found him in the church, bent over the podium.
She had been orphaned when she was a little girl and he had taken her in, raised her as his own, and now he was gone. Her mother and father had been working in the fields until they were attacked by someone…or something. She always wanted to find out who had killed them, but was never able too. When the people arrived at the cemetery, they asked her to lead the ceremony. It was hard and tears stung her blue eyes the whole time. As she neared the end of the speech, which she had heard many times before, a scream was heard across the yard.
"You!" the voice boomed. The grave digger, Joseph Clarke. Very little gray hair sat upon his thin, pale head. His green eyes filled with fire and his thin finger pointed accusingly at her. "You did this!"
"I did nothing, sir." she replied.
"Nay, ye are a witch! You killed our beloved pastor!" he cried. He stepped forward slowly, limping as he did for he had a wooden leg.
"Sir, Reverend Williamson was a father to me, he took me in when my mother and father past. He cared for me and raised me as his own daughter." she said calmly.
"The reverend was in perfect health! He couldn't have died! The plague had passed months ago. How do ye explain why he died?" he questioned.
"I do not know." she sobbed.
"How do you explain that when ye came into our small town the plague came soon after? You brought it upon us! Ye are a witch and should be burned!" he accused.
"I am not a witch, sir." she cried and ran off into the deserted town. The people continued their ceremony as Joseph made his way into town.
She sat on the steps of the white chapel as she wept and the grave digger came closer and closer. Suddenly a pack of wolfs appeared, the girl gasped and backed away. The old man coward into a pile of crates, praying they wouldn't find him.
The wolfs turned to her at the sound of the small gasp. Each of their eyes were red, a sign that they were hungry. The largest wolf pounced and landed right over her on the hard wooden steps. He growled, showing his sharp white teeth. The warmth of his breath settled around her. She couldn't move, she couldn't scream, if she did it would make things worse.
The old man thought it was now or never. He knew she was not a witch, but if anyone thought that a immortal had been the cause of the death of the pastor he would surely be blamed for it. He stretched out his hand and closed his eyes, concentrating.
Suddenly a yellowish glow surrounded the girl, she felt tingly and numb. Her eyes turned green for a split second before turning blue once more. She saw purple and her fingers felt as if someone was pulling on them. She felt a sudden burst of energy serge through her. All those feelings went away seconds later and she could breath again. She wondered what that was, did the wolf do something, did God do something, was an angel now protecting her?
Behind the beast she saw the sun beginning to rise, the start of a new day. The wolf's eyes suddenly turned to a beautiful shade of blue, he turned away and stalked off with his pack, forgetting she was there.
She watched them leave and when they entered the woods a bright light shown around them, they stood on their hind legs and transformed into humans, right before her eyes. They grew wide when the one, which had pounced on her, looked back. She saw his face clearly but, only for a second. He had jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was tall and dark but, looked as if he were kind and gentle. Werewolves.
She got up slowly. Still in a haze from the attack and the strange feeling a moment ago.
Her vision blurred for a moment and she fell forward when she accidentally stepped on the skirt of her black dress. She closed her eyes, preparing for the crushing feeling of stone. But it never came.
She opened her eyes slowly to see that she was not only facing the street but floating above it. She gasped and pushed up.
She looked around as she smoothed out her dress, hoping no one saw that. She turned around as her mind filled with unanswered questions. The only conclusion she had come to was that she was a...witch. She couldn't bare the thought. Her eyes landed on a small bush, barely even two feet high. She looked around once more before trying to test her theory. Not wanting to know the truth, but she must know.
She held out one hand and concentrated. Seconds later the bush burst into flames. She gasped and stepped back, she concentrated once more and the fire went out, the bush looked as it did before as if it was never on fire.
She was a witch. She wasn't a witch before though. Unless, Joseph Clarke. He had always been strange. Some of the towns folk had said he was a warlock. He was right, she is a witch. She killed Reverend Williamson. But, she didn't mean too. She looked back at the empty streets before running to the woods. She couldn't stay here any more. They would find out and burn her.
As she hiked through uncharted forests she promised herself one thing; she will find the werewolves and destroy each of them until they are all gone. They killed her parents, now she could avenge them.
A/N: There ya go! Hope you liked it! Please review!