"I am Victoria E. IsuLmaurs, a journalist from a rather quaint town nestled under a Dam. While rather under-developed, the sense of community was nothing short of irreplaceable. With under fifty total residents, people going missing was seldom; which therein led to nearly no work for us at the agency. However, within this sanctity, when something did happen... For lack of a better way to define it, we suddenly had forty-some workers alongside us. Thing is, one night was surely different from others. I had been called out of town, leading to some worry amongst our town. Nevertheless I left without restraint; I would be a fool not to have. A few towns over there was a sudden vanishing overnight, which had been only a single person. With all the vigor I had, I immediately packed everything and prepared to leave. I'll spare you all the details of my arrival, as however shaken up I am, I recognize what is & isn't a boring read. I asked around about local folklore, gauging how superstitious these poor people were, only to find they had the most conviction I'd ever heard from skeptics. In all my days, not had I seen a community so dependent of they're old myths. Customary as part of our town of Isulmaur, which my great grandfather had formed oh so many years ago, my colleague believes in psychics and would have us ask one during every case. While I personally was never someone who was keen on such things, he attests that mediums are the most valuable thing detectives can have in some investigations. After talking to locals, I went to the local medium, prying them for any feelings of bizarre notions that may be plaguing their senses; which availed nothing. Shortly before entering the village, a rather short and muscular bald man who introduced himself with: "Excuse meh, ma'am. I am Joseph Dorvsin, a local fahctory wehrker who had acquaint'nce with the now missing Silas." With such detail provided to me, I had to listen. He continued: "'e was a kind lad, ne'er missed ah day o' work. His lahst dey were teh only time 'e hadn't shown up, 'nd if it weren't fur that white wolf, he'd probally still be showing up to this 'ere day." After hearing of a new figure not mentioned by the rest of the locals, I desired more information. He finished: "No'one dare speak it's name, the foul thing. Only I 'ave once tamed it's unpredictable rain. Listen tah meh, if ya know what's good fur ya, tarry not in the shadow, lest you see what was hiding." His last words shook me a little, I admit. None of the others were so absolutely sure of what they'd heard. With no time having to be wasted, I thanked Mr. Dorvsin and went on my way. As I reached the grand, almost inhuman tunnel that could easily fit several carriages through it at once, I heard one last shout from behind me: "'nd if teh rain turns sickleh green, find meh! Godspeed to yah ma'am!" I flashed a sign of peace and went on my way. Through the tunnel was the small town of Fe'riea, another small community of people who'd been living in a small crater-esque mountain range. I suppose since this may go national, most likely portraying me as a psycho, as are most women with intelligence these days; I am from Aluminar, which was our local name for the 13 towns surrounding our main city of Govanhill. It was a nice & quiet place. Again, boring read. I left through the other side of the tunnel, talking to the various remaining few living in the town. As with most things supernatural, many old myths were dredged from their memories. I visited the house given the signifier twenty-one, only to find it had been either abandoned or left empty due to the semi-recent police investigation. The only thing I found inside was a nearly foot tall puppet with the intials 'S.G' carved into it's chest. One of the neighbors, a Ms. Hundsi, had mentioned a myth of a puppet maker who had used to live in Fe'riea; as such I thought nothing of it at the time. Doing a sweeping search of the premises revealed nothing shocking, just more dust & debris. As I left the house, searching for anything around the outer walls, I had noticed it began to rain. Despite what the kind man Joseph had said, this was normal, everyday rain. I will say however, I was quite unnerved how quick everyone had returned to their houses mere moments after it started drizzling. After enjoying the stroll back to Govanhill, Joseph was outside, awaiting my arrival. He was quick with his actions, practically assaulting me to hurry me into his factory. He grabbed my arm with feverish haste, only to pull me with all the force in his body through that door. I started to speak but he told me to be quiet, he said in a hasty whisper: "Shhh, lehsten miss..." A few moments went by in pure silence, which felt like forever in the grasp of his arms. After a painfully long ten or so seconds, we both heard it. A wolf's howl, piercing through the rain. As much as I didn't believe in this local legend, I had to credit him with having some sort of clairvoyance. He spoke, hushed as ever: "Do ya heahr that..? That be teh damned wolf. Stay quieht, ya heahr?" I nodded in accordance to his rule, fearing more whatever that would make someone so kind become feral outside the door. Within the next five or so minutes, he cracked the door which revealed the green sky. He said: "My mothehr was a warder of evehl, knew all teh chersus in teh book she did. Before she pahssed, she imbued this plahce with a strong spell, or so that's how I remehmber et. Now lehsten closely, ma'am." Shortly after he told me to listen 'closely', thunderous footsteps had roared past us. Eclipsing anything human by a mile. "It'll be gone in just'a few minutes. That's old Llewelyn, some sayh. That be Silas' old mahn." He said, as if this was nothing abnormal to him. "Some sayh he's an executioner, keepin' ouht new visitahrs." I continued listening, his words being the only thing comforting in this short, yet brutal time. "I can seh et in yur eyes, you wanna get bahck ta yur village. I assure ya, miss, ya cannea do it. Stayh for another few." As though I had a choice. Thankfully, the rain had cleared & I received the clear to go outside. I thanked Joseph for the shelter, saying I'd pay him back some day in kind. I took off back to my home village of Isulmaurs. Once arriving, all the locals had begun asking what the outside was like, as we rarely have incentive to leave. Of course, with all my senses intact, I buried the scene of terror in my mind, only telling them of the glorious air & nice folk at other Aluminar towns. With such pep they asked about Govanhill, to which I told them about Joseph. They fawned over how kind he seemed in his introduction, of which I'd added some formal pleasantries and kept out the tale of the wolf. We shortly returned to our respective abodes, myself relishing in the quietness of the dawn. With the day finally ending, I went to bed that night with one eye open. Listening in for the rain, yet.. Nothing. I awoke the next morning to a knock at the door. With no time to prepare, I answered the door straight from bed, surely shocking the recipient. When my eyes adjusted to the bright day, it was an authority from Govanhill, informing the town the Dam was deemed "unsafe" and that we needed to temporarily leave the town. I packed my necessary items, things that I could replace with local efforts stayed back. In the event the Dam did break, our entire town would be wiped from history, becoming naught but a faint mark of emblazoned words on a page. Of course, this never would happen; the craftsman at Govanhill were masterfully trained workers. We all made for the road; just as I had made it, I received a yell from behind me, exclaiming: "Vicky! We have another order!" Recognizing the voice of my colleague, Sir Samuel Xhalland. I turned around only to see him running at full sprint towards me. I uttered what will most likely be the most fatal sentence I'll ever say: "Another investigation?" I should've just left, following all other forty-some people out of the village. Yet, my insatiable want to help all those that I can, possibly my hubris, forced me into undergoing one last investigation before leaving. Sam explained with alacrity that he finally had a reason to go into the local cave, now that strange noises were heard emitting from it's staunch darkness. We talked for a few moments before making the pilgrimage up to the cave, which we had dubbed 'The mystery of our Elders'. After so long had passed with no one going inside, our fathers began coming up with things to scare us. Now, of course, I was much more anxious that those old tales of yore might in fact be true. On our way up, we took notice of the Govanhill workers preparing to close the cave for maintenance with the Dam. We approached the door and asked to go in, only to be met with cold stares and grumbling; nothing new. For what they lack in being gentlemen, they make up in skill. After enough prodding, the pair of workers eventually said one of us could go in, unfortunately that meant one of us would have to stay outside. Sam, despite how much he had wanted to be ensnared in the cave's formations of limestone, he had offered to let me go instead, simply because I'm a few years older. Taking this opportunity, I drifted my way into the entrance which was a few feet past the crew. Upon my advent to the dark, mysterious place, I heard nothing. As Sam had done many times before in a last ditch effort to get authorized to go into the cave, I assumed these "noises" were just another hoax that Sam had created. I entered the cave, which was surprisingly bright because of the sun's angle beaming into it directly. I carefully inspected each individual formation for any abnormalities that may be infecting the now not-so-mysterious place. I spent a good ten or so minutes just appreciating the beauty and natural landmarks that had been conceived over years and years of innate growth. After what felt like a small amount of time had passed it seemed the sun was going down. Thinking ahead for that possibility, I removed a lantern from my bag and began to shine it's bountiful light on the majestic walls. Of course, still no noises to be heard of. I ventured further into the cave, which was shockingly deep. Making sure not to stumble or trip over anything, I admit that my walking speed was that of a snail. As it started getting colder, the cave became more vast, as though it never ended. Once more I took my time to investigate the walls and formations, again to no avail. However, as I had reached the lower regions of this massive premise, I began hearing rushing water. Of course, this isn't what Sam was hearing from the entrance, yet it was enough to make me keep going. I discovered the source of the river, which most likely had flowed from the same place beyond the Dam. I followed it downward, still making sure to take each step more careful than the last. When I had finally reached the end of the river, my lamp began flickering. The water had suddenly stopped flowing, when the lantern came back from its sputtering, the walls were black with some kind of unnatural ooze. I had seen enough at this point to warrant going back. I turned around only to be met with a rock shaped just like Sam, yet it's face had been twisted into a massive smile. I audibly gasped in shock and horror, yet I still pressed on out of self preservation. As I went up where the water had once flowed, I came across another rock formation. This time however it was shaped just like that puppet, this one with it's face mangled in a barely recognizable mess. Once more I stood, now drenched with a cold sweat, chest aching as though my father's heart disease had manifested in me. I began traversing back one more time, only to hear a shuffling sound behind me. With a swivel so quick I was like a blur, I turned only to see nothing. I heard more shuffling now from above and behind me once again. I turned so stunningly fast that even Jack Lovelock would be shocked. Once more, nothing. At this point I knew I had to get out. I began sprinting upwards to get back to the entrance, the walls behind me seeping ooze. As I blasted out of the cave, I was so relieved to have made it out that I didn't even notice it was the dead of night. I slowly walked out, seeing no one around yet hearing some form of chanting. "This couldn't be!" I thought to myself in abject horror. As I looked up towards the Dam, not only were there massive cracks inside the main portion withholding our town from being submerged, even more surprising were the people sitting atop the grand sight, adorning it like a crown. In the interest of not being seen by these people, standing in praying motions while chanting something I couldn't hear at the time, I meandered my way up towards them while maintaining utmost peace of quiet. Once I became close enough to hear them, they were chanting the following, word for word: "We don't matter! We don't matter! Mean old wolf! Mean old wolf! Taught us how to weep and moan! Taught us how to weep and moan! When this Dam breaks tonight! When this Dam Breaks tonight! You shall have your eternal throne! You shall have your eternal throne!" While moving closer I had stepped on a twig, resulting in the well-nigh hundred people standing there to look in unison. Thankfully I was able to go prone before they could spot me; some thirty seconds later they continued chanting. I watched in terror as the once friendly faces I knew from town had joined these maniacs, chanting in support of the destruction of our town. I hadn't even stopped to think about what they had said at the time, analyzing that they were referencing that same wolf that Joseph had told me about. They continued this chanting until it began raining near them, yet with no clouds in the sky. A shadowy mist began enveloping them and at once the chanting had been silenced. When the mist dispersed, I had seen it. The White Wolf, standing there, listening to it's followers incanting some ritual in it's honor. It began looking my way and with quiet steps I began making my way back down the hill. On my perilous journey, I had slipped and caused a slight crashing sound, which because of the beast's heightened senses made it start sprinting my way. In my life, only one other thing had made me scream in pure terror; my father's death. He died when I was quite young, so thinking of bearing life without him was so terrifying to me that I could do nothing but wail. I sprinted down to the cave, the only place I could think of that would get me out of the Wolf's sight. As I leapt down the hill into the cave, I stumbled, severely cutting my arm. Adrenaline had already cared for that wound, yet the shocking amount of wear to my clothes had become evident. I went around a wall in the cave, in a place that was certainly too cramped for that beast to have fit. I heard snarling at the threshold at the entrance, signifying that the creature had made it to the maw. With all the courage I had left, I steadied my breathing and tried to say silent. A light had started illuminating the cave from a slimy thing slithering along the ground, covered in the same black ooze that the cave's walls had been earlier before this nightmare. The ooze had begun pouring into the cave as though running water would from a bursting dam, lowering me further and further into the depths of the cave. I tried all I could to retrieve the lamp from my bag, yet it proved futile as I had dropped it during the assault of fluid. Once I was further in the cave than I had ever been, it stopped. A grand, circular area was all I could see. From within this grand sight, a pale, eye shaped light emerged from the darkness. Within that same second, the walls cracked unto what I can only imagine a nebula looks like. The Wolf. Standing before me, terrifying in it's grandeur, was circling around me. All I could do was stare. It was oozing black and green fluid from it's head and legs, perpetually releasing the vile ooze. It stood still, time stood still. I looked around, my bag was gone, my watch was gone. In fact, I was naked. It's vile stare felt all the worse once I realized that. Without opening it's maw, it began to speak. It spoke in a way so deafening, I thought I would never hear again. It spoke inside my head, encompassing this entire expanse of blue and purple. "You are... brave. Young one." Despite it's words, I felt none the calmer. "Just who are you, dear?" I tried to answer back but I had no air. "Ah... Victoria. A beautiful name." I tried to scream, pray, something, to no avail. The creature came closer, as if inspecting me up and down. "You are... pure." Once more, this beasts words had not calmed me in the slightest. "I understand you are... afraid." It could hear my thoughts. I couldn't move any part on my body except my eyes. "You're safe, darling. You aren't like the others." Each time it "spoke", light began flooding the room. "Now... Do not run." I was able to move again, the room stabilizing into the cave. Once I gained my breath I asked, without hesitation: "Are you Llewelyn?" For but a brief moment, it's eyes widened, it started grinning. "Why... How did you know my name?" I tried to explain but it cut me off: "I have... heard enough. You are... kind. Young one." I simply stood, not knowing how to respond. "He and you... Are right. I am a judge. Your town is... pure. Thank you, Victoria." I mustered a confused "Thank you" to the beast. "Do not think me... a monster. I only show to those that are... special. Those that I... sense something in." The confusion in my thoughts and actions must have been surmounting. "Is your last name Gnawgrave?" I asked with sheer inclusivity. "You must have... met my son... Silas..." With things starting to come together, I asked him one last question: "What did you do to him?" Llewellyn responded: "My dear... You need not worry. Now... Our Veil is thinning. You will remember me... We shall meet in the waking world, Veil." The world began to reform. After coming to in the arms of Sam, who had found me naked & unconscious in the cave, he obviously had many questions but put them aside to help me first. When I got back to the station, he asked all sorts of bizarre things, some evident, some supernatural. The only one that shocked me, however, was: "When did you get this tattoo?" Of course, I asked inquisitively what he was making reference to, only to notice that I had a tattoo in the shape of The Wolf's eye directly underneath my left breast."
It's been two years since I had that encounter. I sit here at my typewriter, recounting my memories with the auspicious devil-beast. Every 2nd Friday of the month, I have a dream containing Llewellyn, though he is no longer a wolf. Through what I see him as now is simply a long-bearded Irishman. I write this on the 10(11th)th of December, all before I retire in bed next to my lovely wife. I have since talked to Sir Joseph and discovered he has a marking as well. While he still treats the wolf as another foe, I've since learned that's his nature. He's a very kind, protective man, which I believe is the reason Llewellyn took a liking to him as well. The only thing Joseph was wrong about was his advice. Sometimes, the things in the dark are quite fascinating.
~Victoria E. IsuLmaurs