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Morsmordre by The Death Eaters
Chapter 13 : Fenrir Greyback: The Animal Within
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 2

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The large, full moon hung low on the dark horizon, just above the buildings which sat like lines of skeletal guardians to the dreary coastal wizarding city of Argus, near the border of Scotland on the coast of the Irish Sea. A few clouds had drifted over, threatening to dump their load of icy cold water onto the town, but they dared not cover the full moon so bright and large.

A gray flash darted across the empty street from one dark alley to another, hiding in the shadows out of sight. It continued on its path in a determined pattern towards the large, decrepit building on the hill that was surrounded by dead trees and a large rusty iron fence- the orphanage.

The gray flash paused in the shadows of the final alley, waiting as a car trundled past, the yellow eyes of the creature narrowed in glee and it made its final dart up the path to the orphanage, before slinking through the iron gates and stalking up to the front door.

The creature resembled a great large gray wolf-like creature, with yellow slanted eyes, long decaying yellowed canines, and a short black snout covered in straggles of wispy gray hair. Large feet padded along the path, long chipped black claws making clicking noises on the concrete as the large werewolf leant against the wooden orphanage door and sniffed, taking in the smell of children with glee, for children were his favourite meal.

A firm shove from his large muscular shoulder saw the door open, and the werewolf slunk inside in search of his first toy. The lights were out in the large old building, but the werewolf had no problem seeing. A young girl wandered around the corner of the corridor, her nightgown long to the floor, a batted old teddy clasped in her hand as she searched for the source of the click-clack that had drawn her from her room. Her eyes settled on the monster in front of her, and fear overtook her. Adrenalin raced through her body but she could not move, instead she stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream. The werewolf leapt forward in two bounds and settled his fangs deep into the flesh of her neck, ensuring that no scream would wake the others of the house and ruin his night.

After feasting on his choice selection of fresh meat the werewolf left the girl alone, lying in a puddle of her own blood gurgling in pain but still clinging to life, she would survive but never again would the young girl be just another normal young witch, now she was a werewolf forever more.

Fenrir, the werewolf continued through the orphanage, feasting on fresh meat and turning all twenty of the children on the first floor into his own kin.

Once he had eaten his fill, Fenrir slipped quietly from the orphanage, and descended down the hill, to return to the empty house where he had taken refuge from the public the past week, so that come full moon he was close to the orphanage and ready to feast.

As he trekked through the empty streets of the town Fenrir let his guard down, content with his meal he forgot to slink between shadows in secret and instead trotted down the sidewalk. An ambush leapt from a nearby alleyway, three large men cloaked in black with strange skull like masks surrounded the werewolf, their wands raised and pointed at him. Fenrir growled a deep throaty guttural sound and settled back on his haunches, rocking his weight from side to side to ensure that when he leapt, he would do so with extreme power and force and do serious damage to the unfortunate soul who stood in his way.

“Stay still wolf if you value your life” growled the man immediately in front of Fenrir, the man’s dark eyes squinted with malice as his crooked teeth flashed in the darkness. In his head Fenrir chuckled as he launched, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh between the man’s neck and shoulder, digging his sharp claws into stomach and leg forcing the wizard onto the ground so hard that the wizards head smashed against the cobblestone and the wizard went limp. Flashes of red light flew past Fenrir as he twisted and turned to faced the two surviving wizards. He bent his body as he lunged once more, trying desperately to keep his body away from the spells cast towards him. Fenrir managed to dodge several spells but as he landed in the open alleyway a spell hit him square in the back and he fell to the ground, unable to move his body but his mind was working normally. He tried his best to seem angry and dangerous as he awaited a fatal spell or blade but none came. Instead from the alley way strolled three more people, one a young beautiful female with maniacal hooded black eyes, and black wild hair; another a tall solidly built man with dark hair and eyes - this was the man that had paralyzed Fenrir. Behind them, standing tall his ghostly white skin glowing in the darkness was a man Fenrir knew only by name, and for all his effort to remain calm, a tendril of fear raced through Fenrir’s brain as recognition of his attacker occurred.

“Good work Dolohov.” The tall pale man stated in a haunting voice, his eyes slightly red in colouration narrowing as he looked down at Fenrir with a curious expression.

“Poor puppy looks scared.” Taunted the woman as she cackled and grinned to reveal teeth that were beginning to rot, the tall man ignored her statement,

“Bella, hush” The man said in an almost bored voice, and fear took hold of Fenrir’s entire body as the man raised his wand and cast towards Fenrir. He fought against the spell on him desperately attempting to regain control of his body but to no avail. Darkness overwhelmed Fenrir, and he fell out of consciousness into a dreamless slumber.


It was several hours later when Fenrir’s consciousness returned. He felt his naked body lying on a coarse wooden floor and a rough blanket thrown uncaringly over him as though he were a corpse. Muffled voices wafted over him as he forced his bleary eyes to open. Thin shafts of light flickered across the room from bordered over windows.

“He’s waking my lord.” Came the coarse female voice, she sounded tired but still utterly devoted to the tall man with reddish eyes, whose name Fenrir knew all too well...

“Lord Voldemort.” Fenrir stated in his raspy voice, the tall thin pale man nodded slowly, and drew back his thin lips to reveal strange pointed teeth,

“Correct” Lord Voldemort stated he did not speak until Fenrir pulled himself into a seated position; Fenrir pulled the coarse blanket around his body to cover himself. Lord Voldemort ignored Fenrir’s fidgeting as he continued to speak in his strangely soothing, smooth voice, “You are quite a menace to society Greyback. You killed one of my followers with great ease, were it not for Dolohov here taking you by surprise I feel that you may have killed another, and that is no small feat,” Fenrir nodded slowly, cautious to trust a man so lethal and cold-hearted, so set on domination.

In all honesty, Fenrir was jealous of the power and following that Lord Voldemort had, for he himself wanted power for his own cause- to increase the population of werewolves to create a new powerful race of lycanthropes who would rival the wizards for power.

“I have a proposition for you Greyback, one that I think only a fool would decline. You and I both have similar ideals, we both want to create a better world, and whilst I admit that you, as a half-breed hardly fit into my ideals, it would be foolish to ignore the talent that you have for invoking uttermost fear into the hearts of people.” Fenrir grinned to reveal his yellow teeth carved into fangs even in human form. It had been many years since Fenrir had taken to eating human flesh at all times rather than once in a month. It was true; few others could invoke fear like Fenrir.

“All this is very flattering my Lord, but you must realize that seated here on the ground stripped to naught but my skin I am anxious for you to tell me the reason of this rather unfair attack.” Fenrir ensured that his voice was strong and devoid of fear so that Lord Voldemort knew that he was not some petty fool to be trifled with, Lord Voldemort chuckled, a haunting terrifying sound that caused a shiver to race through Fenrir’s body.

“You enjoy devouring children, I will help you to gain access to many children so that you may devour your fill as you aide my death-eaters in destroying all blood-traitors and Mudbloods.” Fenrir frowned in confusion at this invitation; surely Lord Voldemort did not want him to become a death-eater, for he was considered a half-breed in the wizarding world, and to the Dark Lord that surely made him just as bad as a Mudblood or blood-traitor.

The Dark Lord must have seen his hesitation and confusion, for before he could ask, the tall powerful wizard spoke once more, “You surely understand that you will not be a death-eater, I cannot allow that, however; I am asking instead that you ally yourself with my cause, help me to control the world. Work as almost a guard or scout for us. The reward for this will be that you will survive past this night and that I will ensure that you are never far away from children to indulge your bloodlust on.” Fenrir moved slowly to his feet, the invitation and promise of power greater than his modesty. He looked at the Dark Lord with a thoughtful expression,

“You want my allegiance, you have it.” Fenrir stated, holding out his hand to seal the deal, instead suddenly a bolt of pain rushed through Fenrir’s body and he collapsed to the ground in agony, a scream emerging from his mouth as he writhed in torture, his body twisted and contorted as the Dark Lord burnt a cautionary message into Fenrir’s soul.

“That is a warning, should you betray me or break this allegiance to fight your own cause in opposition to mine, I will cause you pain that even your foul, corrupt, disturbed mind could not begin to imagine.” Lord Voldemort broke his hold on Fenrir and straightened his robe before turning to the woman on his left, “Bella, Fenrir is under your control now; be sure to use his skills wisely.” The woman nodded eagerly and lowered her head in respect toward her Lord. “Come Dolohov, we have other people to see.” There was a crack and a gush of wind and Lord Voldemort and his most trusted minion disappeared.

Sharp nails dug into Fenrir’s chin as he was pulled to his feet by Bellatrix, a sneer on her strangely beautiful face. Her neck was so close to Fenrir, with its beautiful soft milky skin, her blood pulsating through her veins just below the surface, it took all of Fenrir’s control not to sink his teeth deep into her delicate neck,

“Come puppy, we have work to do, put some clothes on and follow me; you serve the Dark Lord now.” Fenrir nodded, and as he realized how much power he was now connected to a shiver of delight and excitement spread through his body. Finally, he had support that would help him consume all the child meat that he could. With his new allegiance to the Dark Lord, he would spread his fear throughout the Muggle and wizarding world to great acclaim and respect. All the while that he worked for Lord Voldemort, he would be spreading his lycanthropy throughout the British Isles, so that when Lord Voldemort was defeated, his own race would be there, ready to take control.

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