Becker Writing

Going to have a finished short story for this weekend if it kills me. In the meantime, here's a little introduction. I hope you enjoy and I hope you stick around for the end.

Four men dashed through the woods after their prey. After tracking it all night, they had finally found the beast’s hiding place and flushed it out. This werewolf had been harassing the nearby village for weeks, but no more.

The four men were Venators, elite warriors who specialize in hunting and eliminating dark magic. In a world full of witches, sorcerers, demons and monsters, the Venators stand sworn to destroy all who use the power of darkness.

The four Venators now chased the werewolf, drawing their Phoenix Rods. The three foot red sticks at first didn’t look like much, but these were blessed weapons, and highly effective against the creatures of the night.

They chased deeper into the woods, but they were falling behind. No matter how hard they trained, human legs could not keep pace with a eight foot tall very powerful werewolf. The Senior Venator called for his men to split up in an attempt to corral the beast in the direction it was already going.

The men spread out, and sure enough the beast had attempted to run around and flank the group. Instead, the beast ran right in the path of one of the Venators, Rod ready to repel this monster. Man and beast ran at each other, their respective weapons drawn.

The man was brave, but his act was foolish. The monster swatted the man aside, where he collided into a tree and was out cold before he landed roughly on the ground. The beast was about to finish him off when the other three men ran up behind it and engaged. The battle was ferocious, but neither man nor beast noticed as a quiet figure appeared from the brush and dragged the injured Venator away.