Valkyrie's bedtime story
by Jo the Mighty

As it so happened so was the wolf's. Now this particular wolf had been fowling the bunny all day in hope that it would lead him to more bunnies. But seeing as how that was less and less likely to happen; the wolf decided that one bunny in the tummy was better then going hungry.

The wolf pounced. The bunny was caught completely unawares as the wolf flew out of the bushes to land nearly atop of him. The bunny scrambled as fast as her little could carry her way to... well anything was safer then right there. Sadly, or not so sadly the wolf was faster. A whole three strides and two seconds latter, the bunny was horribly mutilated. The wolf aloud all of his anger and frustration at being deceived by this pathetic creature to guide his actions as he delivered blow after bloody blow the poor bunny. Finally, as the small broken body lay on the forest floor, the wolf eat his well deserved supper.

The next morning, the wolf awoke to find himself in the same exact spot where he had fallen asleep. This also happen the be where he eat dinner the knight before. Sighing deeply at the memory of last nights beautiful kill, the wolf continued on his journey to find the secret grotto wherein lies the forgotten spring. With the forgotten spring, that lies within the secret grotto, he could gain supernatural powers and rule the universe. The wolf grinned in anticipation, his large fangs glinting in the early morning sun. Thus the wolf began his day.

About mid-day, after the wolf had a nice refreshing meal of quail young and mother, washing it all down with a drink form the stream by which he was resting. The wolf heard the pitter patter of small footsteps walking in his direction. Looking up, the wolf saw a small human-like creature watching him from the shadows under the brush. Bearing his fangs the wolf spoke. "I see you little man, don't try anything stupid. Scratch that, try something stupid, please."

The wolf watched the small stranger warily, waiting for it to make a move. The human-like creature strutted forward to stand nose-to-nose with the wolf "If something stupid is to done, you are the one who is going to be the one to have done it." The wolf blinked in confusion. Normally the wolf would not have even bothered to respond to this wordy creature, but he just eat and was feeling rather calm; so he decided to hear it out. The small person began to circle the wolf, looking him up and down and muttering to himself. It was then that the wolf noticed the pointed ears and realized that this must be an elf. Now what did an elf want with him?

The elf continued to circle the wolf and muttering under his breath. After letting strange behavior pass for some time, the wolf tired of the 'almost silent' treatment and asked the elf what it was doing. "You want to find the secret grotto, correct?" the elf moved back to in front of the wolf. "It won't work. I can tell." With a mysterious grin, elf strutted back into the undergrowth, and disappeared.

Once the elf entered the brush, the wolf couldn't hear it anymore, which was strange considering that he heard the elf approach. Evicting the experience from his mind, the wolf continued his journey.

For months the wolf searched. Through the deepest forests, atop the highest mountains. He was balked at every turn, dead ends and box valleys, impassible trenches and uncrossable bodies of water; but the wolf searched on. He was not going to give up, the world had dealt him too many empty hands for him to quit this dream. Then one day, it happened.

The wolf found the secret grotto, and within it the forgotten spring. The pool looked cool and serene. Bubbling out of a crevasse in the living rock, the water filled a natural bowl. Approaching the spring, the wolf smelled... something in the air. He couldn't put a name to it immediately, but as this new scent surrounded him, the wolf found a name: Power. The secret grotto reeked of pure Power

The wolf drank from the forgotten spring, and the power surged through him. The torrent of power was so strong that the wolf was afraid that he would loose himself in its depths. It was like ridding fire; like surfing the deepest seas of fire in the midst of a raging typhoon...blind. It was amazing! At length, the tremors raking his body subsided, but somehow he didn't feel any different. Tentatively, the wolf approached the pool for a second drink. But the wolf that looked up at him from the pool's mirrored depths was not the one that entered the secret grotto.

The wolf had changed. He had become more human, while still retaining the lupine features he was so proud of. His paws had changed into hands with thumbs. His arms were now massive bundles of muscle extending from a gargantuan chest. His new muscles flexed and bunched beneath the newly stretched skin. The wolf was impressed, but he didn't know how strong he really was. Experimentally, he punched the rock from which the spring flowed. The rock rumbled in protest as dust fell from the crags and crevasse, but the wolf's fist didn't feel any pain. In fact, it felt kind of good.

Colossal strength was not the only supernatural power that the forgotten stream had granted. The wolf had also gain amazing speed, heightened senses, and extra-sensory perception. He knew things. And one thing he knew was that his greatest challenge would come from three men. One with spiky hair, another with a freaking long sword, and the third carried an over-glorified bayonet. They would be his ultimate challenge; but who knows when that will happen? Until that time, he had a universe to conquer. The wolf grinned as he thought of exactly where to begin: with that stupid elf.

Using his new lightning speed the wolf dashed down the mountain, away from the secret grotto, and into the forest where what seemed a lifetime ago a little elf had told that "It'll never work." Well, even if the wolf's aspirations of universal domination don't come to pass, at least he'll get that elf. An hour latter the wolf was standing at the exact spot where he had rested that day so long ago. Luckily for him, the soft earth near the stream showed evidence of heavy elf traffic. Thus, by using his heightened senses and expanded intellect, the wolf was easily able to find a trail to the Elvin village.

Watching the diminutive elves from the deep shadows gave the wolf a lethargic feeling from when he was merely mortal. As he watched, his wolf mind planned and strategize, the village was composed of homes built into the trunks of ancient trees surrounding a clearing with a raised platform in the center. Elves walked freely from one building to the next, almost at random. Before his transformation, an attack of this magnitude would have required an entire pack of wolves, with scouts and battle leaders taking hours, if not days of planning and preparation. He did it, alone, in ten minutes.

Snarling, the wolf rushed the village. The elves were caught completely unawares as the wolf's first victim was torn in half. As the bloody torso of the Elvin woman flew through the air to land on the central platform, the entire community froze in a deathly silence; she didn't even have time to scream. the elves emerged from their shocked stillness straight into a panic as the wolf continued to dart from victim to victim leaving a trail of carnage and bloody limbs in his wake. In a matter of minutes the entire Elvin village had been reduced to a pile of rubble and body parts. A strange satisfaction settled over the wolf as he liked the blood from his fur; it was sweet. Sitting among the carnage, the wolf realized that destroying a village of unsuspecting forest elves was entirely too simple; next would be a city.

So it happened that the wolf conquered the world. One city after another fell to his awesome might and power. Those of weak hearts and cruel intentions formed his army, and ravished the country side. This continued for some time, and though some foolish groups tried to rebel now and then, the wolf's empire was secure.

The great philosopher Murphy stated; "If your feeling good, don't worry; you'll get over it." The wolf is a prime example of this statement, for he was feeling quite good. He was lunging on his throne constructed from the bones of rebels and the innocent, when a messenger came dashing through the great hall of his dark palace.

"Lord, 'Heroes' have been sited in the countryside defeating his majesties minions. Cutting through his hordes like they were toilet paper!" The wolf flew off his throne with an oath.

"WHAT! Someone has the gall to oppose me!" The wolf began to pace as the messenger quaked prostrated on the floor. "I'll deal with these 'heroes' myself."

It did not take long for the wolf to find the men that were crushing his army one unit at a time, all he had to do was trace the path of his slain followers. The wolf caught up with these new messengers of death around noon, the sun was hot and flies crawled over the carcasses littering the fields. Wanting every advantage possible, the wolf moved ahead on the road that the heroes traveled to find a suitable location for their final battle.

The wolf didn't have long to wait before the men traveling the road came into sight. The sun was at the wolf's back, giving him an excellent view of his opponents. The lead man's hair was as big and spiky as the second man's was short and flat. The third man's hair fell down below his shoulders in a silvery main. None of them carried weapons.

The men approached in silence, grim determination and death followed them like hounds. As they came upon the rock where the wolf waited, the man with the pointy blonde hair held up his fist; signaling a halt about a dozen yards away. Fanning out, the heroes drew their weapons. The wolf blinked. One moment they carried nothing, the next all three held swords; the wolf wondered if they were real, but then remembered all the bodies he had passed that were hacked to pieces and decided that they were real enough.

"Not the talkative types I see. Let get down to business then, yes?" The men nodded.

The man with silver hair stepped forward and slashed; it was all the wolf could do to avoid the blade- it was so freaken long. Once regaining his balance, the wolf had to continue to dodge attacks as the three men had surrounded him. The only thing keeping the wolf's hide in place was his lightning speed and extra-sensory perception. The wolf was beginning to think that coming after these men alone was a bad idea. Finally, the wolf was able to position himself outside their deadly triangle, near only one of the three men; the one with the short dark hair. The sword blade came down and would have split the wolf's skull directly between the eyes if he hadn't stopped the deadly metal between his bare hands; inches from his nose. Suddenly pain shot through the wolf's hand causing him to release the blade, allowing the hero to cut him in the left shoulder. The wolf howled in pain and slashed his tormentor's face with his claws, missing the eyes but destroying a previously disfigured nose. The last thing the wolf saw as he escaped from under the knife was a wisp of smoke trailing from the blades hilt. The damn thing was nothing more than a glorified bayonet! This was going to get ugly.

By now the wolf had realized that he had bitten off more than he could chew by facing these three heroes all at the same time; but that only strengthened his resolve to see this thing through. And so, with the same resolve that brought the wolf to the secret grotto that he could drink from the forgotten spring, he continued to fight- and lose.

It was a glorious death. The three heroes maintained such a furious pace of attacks that even the wolf's augmented stamina was unable to keep up for very long. Finally, after hours of thrusts and cuts and evasions, it came to an end. The man with the glorified bayonet, blood covering his face and clothes from where the wolf had struck his first blood, charged bringing his single edged weapon down over his head in a vicious blow. The wolf stepped to the side, avoiding the one attack while stepping straight into another. The man with spiky blonde hair, also bleeding from multiple minor wounds inflected all over his body, had anticipated the move and prepared a counter that buried his enormous blade in the wolf's side, becoming caught in the ribs of his massive chest. The wolf fell to the ground; exhausted from the loss of blood, not to mention the sword stuck inches from his heart and lungs. His weapon trapped the man with spiky hair backed away, and the man with the sliver mane stepped forward. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of a battle well fought, then proceeded to cleanly remove the wolf's head from his shoulders. The three unknown heroes wiped their blades and left the body, continuing the path into the sunset to restore order to a world bathed in chaos.