6 Cursed Hounds (Kim)

I gasped my eyes shooting wide open. The pain was unbelievable, it was like someone was stabbing a burning fireplace poker into my chest. Tears ran down my face, my mouth opened in a silent scream. The pain even stealing my voice. I clenched my fists and tried to sit up to see the wound. I looked down to see my shirt had been ripped in two.

My father's face moving into my vision. "Shh baby, lay down. Its healing nicely." I clutched at his rough hand, his other smoothing my hair from my face. He lifted my head and sat on the bed with me. A soft whimper escaped my lips. My wide eyes scanned the room looking for the doctor to help me with this pain, but this was no hospital. My poster and off white walls is what greeted me. Instead of the cold and sterile hospital room. The Chester cat from Alice in wonderland mocked my pain. I was in my own room... why am I not at the hospital?

My dad started speaking softly, his hand running through my hair like when I was a little girl and couldn't sleep. "Its alright Kim. I know it hurts and your confused, but I will explain everything in a little. For now how about I tell you a story." His voice held such sadness, I almost wanted to cry for his pain.

"Just try to concentrate on my voice." I looked into his steel blue eyes, my whole body shaking from the burning, but I managed a small nod. "Good. You know how your birthday is on Friday the 13th? Did you know you were also born on Friday the 13th? I am going to tell you why so many consider it a day of bad luck.

Many many years ago, hundreds to be honest. There were a group of soldiers. These men fought for the church. They were brave and devote. They were called the Knights Templar. Now these men fought and killed in the name of the church and all that was good." He sighed deeply as if telling the story took a lot of his energy. His hand even shook a little while he ran his fingers through my hair.

"A group of these men lived and served in France. On one Friday the 13th, other people of France hunted down and slaughtered almost all of the Knights Templar. That 13th was the darkest and bloodiest many have ever seen." I wanted to ask him why this story of all stories, but even though the pain was less, I still hurt and too drained to form the words. Instead I just continued listening.

"Unknown to their murders, these Knights did not go to their final resting place. Instead the powers that be, decided they were still needed. The men became beast, though they could choose to walk among men. Now the powers that be changed them right to their basic instincts. Where a bird hound hunts birds, these men now hunted evil. Trained to smell it out and track it. They are what true Hell hounds are. Not Hellhounds because they are from hell, but because they can track ones with hell in their blood.

These knights have lived many lifetimes hunting evil. Sometimes they meet a human woman, fall in love or at least lust. Sometimes when this happened a child was born out of the union. Always a male child.

When that child turned twenty, he underwent his first change, gaining the gift or curse of his father. The knights trained their sons and those sons would leave and start over in another part of the world. The Alpha or Captain of these knights fell in love with an exotic beauty. She was his air, his soul." His voice trailed for a moment and he leaned forward kissing my forehead.

"They had a child; this child was born many weeks early. It tore out the child's father's heart, for the baby was born on the day that marked the darkest of his life and afterlife. Even stranger the baby was a strong and healthy girl."

He stared at me waiting for me to process just what he had said. The pain was almost gone and my voice once more found me. Though it was raspy my throat dry for more reasons than just pain. "Da.. dad? There is no such thing. You can't mean what I think you mean."

His eyes drifted to where the bullet wound was. I followed his eyes and saw the wound looked several weeks old. The only thing that still looked fresh was a nasty almost black bruise.

His voice was softer now; you could hear his sorrow in it. "You see Hellhounds heal life threatening wounds very fast, as long as it is not a direct heart hit or removal of their heads. Bruising and such heal much slower, but faster than a human. I had hoped this would pass you by. Then again I would have lost you if it did."

I stared at my father for a long time, wondering if maybe seeing me shot was too much for his brain. His eyes said he still held his sanity, but how? "Who.. who shot me?"

Another deep sigh. "The ones who took our lives that night were cursed to walk the earth as long as there are hounds." He stood pulling the covers over me. "I know you have questions, but you must rest. We will talk more when you wake."

I watched him walk out and stared at the door once he closed it. I wasn't sure I would be able to sleep with all this in my head. I'm not sure how much time passed, but eventually exhausting won out.