[Vol. 2: Alanor] The Beast of The Midlands

[FIFTEEN YEARS LATER]

[THIRD-PARTY POV]

***

"We shouldn't have come here! We are trapped!"

"He will surely make an example out of us!"

"If I survive this, I'm never going on these missions again!"

"Shut up!"

The warriors had been sent out on a mission, to guard the borders for three days. It was that simple. There had been reports of rogues planning to attack the werewolf kingdom. Expectedly there was border patrol already.

However, this particular team was the emergency response team. The strategic team that could take out any rogues and protect the kingdom. And frankly, that is what they should have done.

Their alphas had made sure they understood the mission well. Gave them clear instructions and everything that needed to be followed for the mission to be a success. All the warriors had to do was show up, protect their home and go back when the three days were over, so other warriors could come to the post.

The alphas didn't want more mothers losing their sons and husbands to the voiceless beast of the midlands. It was always a heartbreaking scene when they picked up the bodies that the beast himself brought to the entrance of their kingdoms.

This didn't just happen in the werewolf kingdom. It happened to everyone and anyone who had access to the supernatural world. The beast never went into any kingdom, he just roamed the midlands.

The warriors weren't to take any unnecessary hostages, however, these very warriors had screwed up. They had kidnapped two helpless children who had been passing by, just because they were rogue wolves.

Sure they belonged to the enemy territory, but the midlands had one rule, or rather HE had one rule. One that everyone had to follow or risk being attacked by the beats himself.

'Never make a kid cry just because you can.'

This was a rule created by the beast to protect the children in the kingdoms.

It was quite an unrealistic rule, especially coming from the man who severed heads with his eyes closed, but that is how they had to live. No one was allowed to hurt kids in the midlands. Sure, they would do that in their kingdoms, but there were myths about the beast protecting kids.

He always found his way to every kingdom and eliminated the culprits.

After every elimination, he would leave the writings on the bodies, a reminder that his rule had been broken.

Each year the myths grew and eventually, everyone had settled on calling him the beast of the midlands. He was chaotic and heartless. He was a beast in every sense, save for the part of him that loved children.

It was weird and creepy yet heartwarming at the same time. And expectedly, the kids loved him. It wasn't that hard to love the person that protected them. They loved the stories about the unique beast.

There were so many stories surrounding the beast, but even with the conspiracies, no one ever lived to tell the tale of what he looked like.

No one had ever survived him.

Even those who had written about the myths weren't sure of what he looked like. Some assumed he was a huge mountain of a man, while others described him as a hound. There were so many speculations, but none of them had brought the whole idea to life.

None.

"What do we do now? It was your idea to make fun of the kids and now look at us, in trouble with the worst of all creation. Who could have even thought of this?" One of the warriors said, sweat dripping all over his body. He was scared, and rightfully so.

They were currently hiding behind one of the shelters they had made outside the gates of their kingdom.

"Whose idea was it? Yours! You said the beast was a myth and that the children wouldn't tell a soul, and now look at us, hiding from a myth!" Another warrior harshly whispered.

"Well, we let the children go, at least that should count for something, right?" the other said, as everyone else facepalmed. Either he had to be a potato head or he had used up all his lives and wanted to rid himself of the last one.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this."

"The man's a myth, I don't even know why you all are scared," a warrior said.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of footsteps coming their way. Whoever it was, didn't care that he or she could be heard by anyone. However, considering how heavy they were, it was easy to conclude that the person coming was a man.

"Someone's coming, I'll go check it out," a warrior said and got out of their shelter. A few seconds later, his severed arm was thrown into the tent they were in. Well, so much for the beast being a myth.

Shock was an understatement of the current state of the warriors. They looked like they needed to make a run for it, but between where they were stationed and the kingdom gates, there was just seven hundred meters, which they were sure they wouldn't even make it past.

still, in their state, the tent was ripped apart, exposing the warriors to a huge man, or rather, a fully matured lycan man who looked like he had spent all his years in these midlands. Now they understood why even the hounds were scared of this beast.

He was a beast in every sense. Even with the moonlight, they couldn't make out his face, but then again, who would want to have a look at him when they were petrified from just his size?

The beast growled at them as if he was picking who he would start off with.

"I— We are sorry, we didn't mean to—" the head of this squad said, but he didn't even get to finish his sentence as he was thrown off to the trees. He could be heard screaming, before his body hit the trees and he fell, dead.

The rest of the warriors looked at the beast, trying to plead with him, but if peace worked, they wouldn't have tormented the rogue kids. It wasn't their fault that that had been born of rogues. One by one the beast ripped them apart, before drawing their tent with his usual warning.

Having accomplished his mission tonight, the beast transformed into a hot young man in his late twenties, and goddess, he looked like heaven. One glance at him and all the ladies and even men would want him.

One of the warriors who hadn't yet taken his last breath, wrote on the tents, something that would create a ripple across the midlands and the supernatural world in its entirety.

It was a truth no one had ever imagined. A horror that would awaken so many things. This right here was the impact of fear, love and loss.

"He is a man!"