Fenrir's library was a masterpiece forged by the works of a over a thousand great minds throughout the millennia, the circular room had a small fireplace that roared contently through the fresh wood, illuminating the aged leather books he had collected over his brief life. Everything from Charlotte Bronte to Dostoevsky lived in the small circular room. Each one a first edition. The one part of my humanity that was left to me...he thought sitting in the deep emerald green arm chair by the fireplace. He even had a copy of a King James Bible dated from only three hundred years after the crucifixion of Christ...the owner, he remembered, was very unwilling to part with such a valuable tome. But Fenrir was not a man to be denied. And I always get what I want...one way or another. Now he sat with a rare volume of 'The Raven' by Edgar Alan Poe. The small book was not the most valuable, or the most beautiful, but it was his favourite.
Just how death should be...quick...sudden...fearing. And I am Death. He thought turning the page gently. Outside he could hear the raucous of his pack as they battled each other in the pits, dozens were still out looking for the Queen. Many had brought back humans or other such filth, angered he ordered them killed and the humans...well...they were given to his men for whatever use they wanted them for. But in here...with his pack, humans never survived long. Eventually the hunger took over. He couldn't even remember being human anymore...it wasn't that long ago really. Ten years? Maybe less? He couldn't remember. All he remembered was the huge white wolf lunging out the darkness like a great spectral daemon before the scared little boy barely had chance to pull back the trigger of his rifle. The bullet hit home sure enough. But not before the Lycan sunk his teeth into his shoulder. The agony of the change still shot through him to this day, like an old festering wound that refused to heal and just when you thought was gone it would flare up never letting you forget what you are.
But he couldn't complain, so much venom had been pumped into his veins it would have killed most ordinary humans. But not him...No. I am a God! That's why he chose the name Fenrir when he entered the Blood Claws. The ancient wolf son of Odin who was forever chained to the tree of life in punishment for opposing his Father, but when the chains would break Fenrir would tear across the world of men and the world of the gods in an event called Ragnarok. Bringing and end to the age of Gods...and starting a new...perfect...clean existence. That is what I shall do to Atlantis...my city...I will sweep onto it as Fenrir, the God of Wolves bringing my Ragnarok to its shores. Then when it is picked clean of every man woman and child...I will rebuild. My own Lycan empire. I will create a Dynasty that will survive for a thousand years. The thought of his vision brought such a smile to his face it made him look up from the work of Poe and let his mind wonder slightly...just for a moment. Imagine himself sitting in the throne of Atlantis. King over the greatest city the world had ever known.
That is...if they find the Queen. The thought to why she was hear still puzzled him and why she had come with only a single body guard...true he had proved slightly more formidable than Fenrir had originally given him credit for but still. But it mattered little. She was here. A full blooded Atlantean, not some disgusting half-breed who had never been to the great underwater city. He needed her. Greatly. Hearing footsteps approaching his door Fenrir turned his eyes back to his book just as the wooden door was flung open, Erik strode in. The ancient fool of a wolf with his wrinkled face and foolish silver hair. It had been one of the best feelings when Fenrir had won his pack from the old fool, he longed to have ripped his throat out then and there with his teeth, feel his warm life blood run down his throat. But no...Erik Silverhair still had many in the city and beyond who respected him and he had been a loyal dog since Fenrir let him live. And he needed loyalty around him, especially now.
'Fenrir...there's a problem.' he said. His voice a rolling drum of deep notes.
'There's always a problem Erik my old friend...' said Fenrir turning the page.
'Fenrir.' looking up into Erik's hard golden eyes Fenrir rolled his eyes before placing his book back onto the gap in the shelf carefully, standing Erik nodded and lead him out of his Library into the stone hall. Two wolves stood holding pale naked bodies in their massive arms. Fenrir paused at the sight.
'What happened?' he asked the silent hall. None spoke. 'Does no one know?' his bellow echoed through the room before a thin man with a mousy look stepped forward between the two hulking wolves.
'I'm sorry my lord...' he whispered.
'You will be if you do not answer my question! What happened!' He bellowed making the mousy man jump in fright and half the room take a step backwards away from him.
'We...we found them...the Queen ran and her bodyguard fought us...' as he spoke the boy turned to reveal a long slash down his back. One delivered from a confident stroke of a pole-axe.
'Your telling me,' said Fenrir through clenched teeth as he descended the dais step by step. 'That on old Atlantean with an axe...did this to your pack?' Standing in front of the mousy man Fenrir was actually smaller than him, but by the way he was squirming he knew the man felt like he was being loomed over.
'Not just the Atlantean...my lord.'
'Then who!' rage coursing through his veins Fenrir grabbed the man between the groin in shear frustration and squeezed hard. The mouse dropped to his knees squealing like a girl. 'Talk.'
'There was...a...a bear with him...' a rock fell through his stomach.
'What?' he whispered calmly.
'A bear...a monster of one...argh!...he killed dozens...my lord please...I'm sorry we failed you.' releasing his bollocks he let the mouse have one moment of relaxation before Fenrir wrapped his hands around his head and tore his head from his shoulders with one swift jerk. Holding the dead body by the shoulder in one hand and his head in the other Fenrir felt his pulse race, his chest heave up and down. This can't happen...he could ruin everything.
'Is this true?' he asked the two wolves as the blood of the mouse pooled on the floor and ran over his hand. The wolves nodded lowering the bodies of their fallen pack onto the stone flagged floor. Even from here Fenrir could see the clear claw marks the abomination. 'And he is with the Atlantean whore?' his voice broke with anger. Every wolf around him now had taken several steps back. Again the two looming wolves nodded. Closing his eyes Fenrir felt the thunder of his heart, the muscles in his body tense, the rise and fall of his chest. Dropping the head and body he ran his fingers through his long locks of hair...brushing them out of his face. 'Find them.' he said softly. 'Find them now and kill the bear...do it! Find them! FIND THEM!' as he roared the final words he changed, he became his true self. And began tearing apart anyone who was to slow to get out of his presence.