I am looking to adopt...Section: Common Creatures
Kennel number: P 10
Name: Ben
Breed: Gray Wolf
Why do you want this animal and what will you do for it?: I felt and instant connection to Ben the first time I saw him. I could already see the battles he would partake in and the role he could have in a story I'm working on. I also love his design his design and I can already hear his voice in my head just based on his picture. He would make a wonderful minor villain or a wonderful nonredeemable, misguided character. I can just see his shorter story fitting nicely into the world that I'm currently planning.
Personality: -
Sadistic: Ben enjoys the suffering of others. He finds the fact that different individuals have different thresholds for pain highly fascinating and often tests these thresholds during his self-assigned missions. He is very easily bored if his victim either doesn’t show any pain or gives up from pain too quickly.
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Heartless: Ben has little tolerance for the reasoning of others. There is no gray area when it comes to his killing. He has no sympathy for those who try to survive through minor crimes like petty thievery and will only show mercy and end his victim’s life after torturing him/her.
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Brutal: Ben goes to great lengths to satisfy his sadism including brutal and torturous attacks on others. He will literally torture his victims to death with his methods.
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Psychopath: Ben has a hard time setting up relationships that don’t end in his supposed friend becoming a victim. He will often lie to and/or abuse the other canine to get the information he needs or to lure them into a false sense of security. He is also very quick to anger and will deem anyone who angers him in need of his judgment.
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Intelligent: Ben will deliberately plan his moves for weeks if he has a premeditated target and even with his random targets, he is able to improvise to a certain extent; though, sometimes he underestimates his targets and is surprised by their attacks.
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Delusional: Though Ben is intelligent in his planning and self-assigned missions, he doesn’t connect his actions with the fliers of a rogue wolf that are posted all over the country and considers this wolf his biggest target in his goal to destroy those he considers sinners. He views any canine he kills as a sinner no matter how innocent that canine might be. He also views himself as the most righteous of all wolves and the only one who can judge wrongdoers.
Likes: -
Justice (his version of justice anyway): Ben can’t stand the existence of those he considers sinners. Therefore, he likes to take the law into his own paws and eliminate those who he feels are criminals. Any canine that crosses the line of what Ben considers to be wrong will face Ben’s form of justice.
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The Night: The night makes it easier for Ben to carry out his killings without being caught. His sleep cycle reflects his love of the night, as Ben is usually asleep around the last hours of night, waking up between two and four in the afternoon depending on actions the night before.
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Physically and Psychologically Tormenting Others: As stated, Ben is a sadist by nature and will sometimes stalk those he decides to punish through deserted areas just to see their terror. He also enjoys it when his victims plead for mercy and will prologue their deaths for that satisfaction.
Dislikes:-
Winged Wolves: Ben hates the winged wolves who came in and tried to “civilize” the natural order of the normal wolves with their own government. Winged wolves are among Ben’s most likely targets, and he blames them for the corruption of the normal wolves whenever he sees a normal wolf as a sinner and decides he has to kill that normal wolf for his or her crimes.
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Foxes and Coyotes: Ben has never liked foxes or coyotes even before the winged wolves made these two species the lowest of the canine hierarchy. He sees them as unintelligent wastes of territory.
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Sinners (his version of sinners): Ben views himself as the only capable judge of wolf society. He hates those he deems sinners and will do anything to destroy them. There is very little one can do to stay on Ben’s good side, however, and if he sees any canine doing something he decides is wrong, there’s little hope for that canine.
History/Background:Ben lives in a world in which winged wolves from another continent discovered his home country and took over, forcing the break-up of wolf society from a hierarchical pack system into their own system of government. This system is a familial system that contains families of no more than two adult wolves and their pups (who are forced, by law, to leave their parents as yearlings). In this set-up, hunters, merchants, and normal wolf ambassadors to the winged wolves are the only important positions, leaving all other wolves to scrape by the best they can in a social position comparable to peasants in our world.
Remembering the old ways of wolf society from his early puphood, Ben grew up resentful of the winged wolves and decided to act against them through assassinations brought on by his judgment. Through these assassinations, he slowly learned that some wolves approved of this system and even helped the winged wolves with their government. This realization pushed Ben over the edge and slowly turned him against all canines who did anything he deemed to be wrong, whether their actions violated the laws of the old wolf society or the new laws enacted by the winged wolves. Now, he has appointed himself as the only true justice in the country with the right to kill any wolf he considers a sinner, no matter how innocent his victim might truly be.-----
I padded through the market of the Clearsky Pack (if you can call any “city” a pack since the winged devils took over) ignoring the howls of “Fresh elk for trade!” from the wolves lining the clearing. Rolling my eyes, I continued my way through their territory. Market places were a failed experiment of the winged wolves to bring our society together like their own society. Only desperate wolves would willingly trade his/her own meat for meat from the remnants of a pack that he/she neither knows nor trusts. The winged wolves needed to stay out of our business and let us run our families as packs the way our ancestors did; fighting for land and food instead of this stupid family and market system.
The market wasn’t what I was here for anyway. The winged wolf, Matt, who had taken over and crowned himself the "Lord" of this territory needed to be destroyed. Without that dictator, the Clearsky Pack would be able to reform and live as we had all lived before the winged wolves appeared.
As I continued my trek through the center of the territory, I noticed a flier carved into a tablet near one of the wolves that our winged dictators called merchants. It spoke of a rogue wolf (the species of the killer only identifiable through the teeth and claw marks on the bodies) spreading chaos throughout the country. His victims included all the citizens of this country (winged wolves, wolves, foxes, and coyotes alike) and ranged from pups to hunters, to ambassadors, and even to head winged officials.
I shook my head with a sigh. The degradation of the wolf society was all their fault. Flying in from faraway lands and forcing us under their rule. What kind of wolf would harm an innocent? I would have to kill him or her as I had killed so many other sinners of this country. Judgment had to be passed somehow, and the Peace Keepers (another foreign concept to the natural wolves, as I call us) of this country were not doing their appointed job of taking care of the crime in this country. That was why I had to step in when I was a yearling.
Was I employed to do this, one might ask? There is no such employer, but I can assure any curious wolves that the lack of an employer keeps my judgment from being clouded. Because of the Peace Keepers’ failure, only I can decide whose crimes may be pardoned and who must face death. There is no corruption in my judgments; just pure, honest justice carried out against the winged wolves and the corrupt for the innocent canines in this country who’ve been wronged.
This continued resolve pushed me onwards but before I could get too far, I saw a rather scrawny gray and white wolf yearling sneaking slowly behind a larger black wolf that was carrying a sack of meat he had just traded for. It wasn't too unusual at first; however, my curiosity was further piqued as I realized the yearling was making no attempt to speak with the older wolf. That meant that they most likely didn't know each other.
My suspicions were confirmed when the yearling quickly sped up next to the older wolf, keeping only a small distance between them before bumping into the black wolf and grabbing a small slab of meat. The yearling was out of there before any of the nearby Peace Keepers noticed the crime, and the black wolf only stood and looked around in confusion before going on his way.
Needless to say, the yearling’s crime made my blood boil, and all thoughts of my previous target were forgotten as I decided that the yearling must pay for his crime. There was no other way for wolf society to regain its former glory than to destroy all the criminals of this society; winged wolf or natural wolf alike.
I rushed to the spot where the crime had taken place and sniffed the air for the yearling’s scent, smiling when I found it without too much trouble. A small mission wouldn’t distract me from my overall goal here.
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The wolf’s scent led me to a den hidden by a large, rotting log on the outskirts of the "city's" territory. Voices emanated from the den, and I had to sneak closer to make out the words being spoken.
“Daddy, did you bring us food,” a weak voice asked.
“Yes, but it’s not much. I have to be careful because they’re getting suspicious of me,” the father’s voice answered his pup.
Hmm… the wolf I had taken for a yearling was older than I had thought. This meant that he had been stealing for longer than I originally thought and was just gave more proof that this criminal had to go. The pups would have to die as well. There could be no tolerance for those who were indoctrinated into the criminal world by being taught that stealing was acceptable. It was a pity, but some things can’t be helped.
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I waited until nightfall before I approached the den. I’ve always felt more comfortable doing my job in the night. The darkness made it less likely that I would be caught by the corrupt Peace Keepers.
The log outside of the den was a perfect way to alert the father to my presence. I only needed to scratch once to bring the scrawny wolf out of the den, the fur on his back raised defensively. He must have been expecting our corrupted government to be here to arrest him.
“There’s no need to be defensive, my friend. I’m only a wanderer,” I lied. It was always easier to bring enemies closer before the attack. Premeditated targets were the only targets I would ever attack without working them into a short-lived “friendship” first because a plan of attack would have already been thought of and perfected weeks in advance.
The gray and white wolf calmed slightly at my words, but he still seemed suspicious. “Who are you, and where are you from?” he asked.
“I am Shadow from far north of here. I do not like the city life that the winged wolves have bestowed upon us, so I wander the country looking for a pack that has gone untouched by their conquest,” I answered. Shadow was my normal alias, only changing if I stayed in an area for too long.
“You won’t find a pack like that around here. The imperial territory is too close. Surely you would know that,” my target answered.
“I know, but I had to pass here to continue my travels. I’ve already been through the west and the north of the country. All that’s left is the east and the south. Anyway, I don’t think you’ve told me your name yet. May I ask what it is?”
The wolf was quiet for a moment before revealing his name to me. Of course, how would I know if it really was his name? He was a thief, after all. Finally, he answered, “I’m Aramoj.”
“It’s good to meet you, Aramoj. Would you be so kind as to lend me a place to stay for the night? I’ve been traveling all day.” A look around the inside of the den would be a good way to determine if he could escape with his corrupted pups.
“Sure. I can’t offer you any meat, but there’s more than enough room in my den,” he answered.
Aramoj was such a trusting wolf for a thief. This would be far easier than I had imagined. He led me into the cozy den with no more questions and showed me what he considered to be the den’s guest chamber. Another chamber off to the side was where the pups slept. It seemed his mate wasn’t present because of tragic circumstances, and there was no escape tunnel; probably because Aramoj never thought he’d face his demise in his own den.
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I could hear Aramoj’s snores within the hour and got to my paws, deciding to start my mission. The pups would be quick to go, not suffering too badly for their father’s crimes. As much as I enjoy destroying my targets, there’s no need to torture pups. They were just the unlucky offspring of a tainted wolf. The only one I wanted to judge was Aramoj. His pleas for mercy would be a chorus to my ears.
I padded to the pups’ chamber and dispatched them quickly, not wanting their cries to wake their father. A target’s den was no place for a fight. Such a battlefield would give Aramoj the advantage. There could still be hidden tunnels I never saw that could help him defeat me.
I exited the den and again scratched on the log outside to get Aramoj’s attention. There was an instant sound of shuffling from inside the den as my target awoke to see who was intruding on his land. The noise didn’t last long, though, before I heard a cry of pain and fury from inside. There was no doubt that he had just discovered his pups’ eternal slumber.
A rush of joy and excitement shot through me as Aramoj bolted from his den. His eyes, so full of happiness only an hour before were now dilated with pain. His stance contradicted his fury, for his tail and ears were as low as they could be while, in contrast, his teeth were bared and his fur rose as high as a porcupine’s quills.
“Shadow! What is the meaning of this?” he cried, his voice cracking. All I could do was smirk. He really did have the best reaction to his despair that I’d seen for a while.
“You committed the crime of theft and had to be held responsible for your actions. Now you will have to die along with your corrupted pups,” I answered calmly. How could he not understand that he had it coming? None of my targets ever seemed to understand their crimes, even after I explained it to them. It’s like I’m the only canine that understands the concept of honesty and justice.
“You… how dare you? I stole to feed my starving children!” Aramoj howled, though his reasoning fell on deaf ears. Sob stories mean nothing to me. If the Fates give you a challenge, you have to do your best to succeed without crime. It was too bad that so many wolves like Aramoj didn’t understand this concept.
“There is no rationalizing your crimes,” I answered. This conversation was becoming boring. I’d heard all of these excuses before.
My answer only seemed to anger him further, for he no longer looked broken and submissive but rather like an alpha with his tail raised. “I’ll kill you,” he murmured and lunged towards me, aiming for the jugular. Unfortunately, I wasn’t really expecting such an attack from what looked to be such a weak wolf, and I was barely given enough time to redirect the attack to my shoulder.
The gray wolf’s teeth dug deep into my shoulder muscle, drawing rivulets of blood to flow down my leg. I didn’t give the sinner the satisfaction of a yelp of pain, however. Instead I pushed all of my weight into his bony form and rammed him into a tree, causing him to yelp.
Now free of his jaws, I quickly slashed him down his side and pushed him to the ground while ignoring the pain in my shoulder. He tried to stand, but he was too slow as I forced him to roll on his back and repeated my slash attack, this time on his stomach. His howls of pain only fueled me to continue my attack a few more times.
Aramoj’s body went limp as he realized he stood no chance against me, and his olive green eyes bore into me as he searched for my mercy. “Please, spare me. I’ll never steal again. I’ve learned my lesson,” he whispered weakly.
My fur tingled with joy as I heard his plea. It was always fun to see how far a canine would go to escape their inevitable death. Instead of answering him I slashed him across the face, hoping to receive more of his misguided pleas. I had no room for forgiveness towards criminals.
Aramoj winced and reached a paw towards his face to cover his newest wound. “Please, I beg of you. I’ll do anything. I’ll even starve to death if you command it. Just please, let me go,” he whimpered. Such a weakling… The winged soldiers I’d killed were way more interesting to torture than this broken wolf.
Bored, I stepped away from him with a small smile. “Fine, Aramoj, I will let you go. Just remember your thievery and don’t steal again.”
Aramoj stood slowly, blood flowing freely from his wounds, and bowed his head to me in the delusion he was safe. He then turned his back on me and hobbled towards the forest with his ears down and his tail between his legs, much like he had looked before the fight only with more blood and a broken soul. Of course, I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. Releasing him would just allow him to repeat his crimes once he healed.
I let him disappear into the trees, licking the blood from my shoulder while counting from ten to zero in my mind. It was always fun to shatter the security a target feels after thinking they’ve escaped from me. Seeing the realization of death on their faces was almost as good as their pain and pleas for mercy.
After my countdown ended, I slid into the forest after my target. It was easy to trail him with all the blood he was losing, and it wasn’t long before I caught up with his weak speed.
Aramoj was panting heavily as he limped forward, the gums in his open mouth turning pale from the blood loss. I could tell he wouldn’t survive much longer in this condition, giving me only a limited amount of time to torment him before his death. Unwilling to let the time slip away, I looked for the nearest twig and snapped it with my paw.
I can’t explain the delight that coursed through me when Aramoj’s head snapped up and looked around for a sign of my location. Quickly, I rustled a few leaves of the bushes around me and let my teal eyes show through a break in the undergrowth. My target’s eyes widened in terror at the realization that I wasn’t really going to let him go, and the gray and white wolf forced himself into a lopsided, painful looking run.
The game was on. I allowed myself to keep pace with him for a while before running ahead as silently as I could and snapping another twig a couple of yards in front of him. The sudden noise caused Aramoj to skid to the ground, landing on his injured side, as he tried desperately to escape me. The sight of his pathetic attempts to escape made me laugh and the laughter, in turn, forced him to his paws.
The dying wolf stumbled as he tried to run again and fell only a few feet from where he had landed not a moment earlier. His body could no longer put up with the abuse of trying to escape, and I guessed his adrenaline had run out. Satisfied with myself, I padded out from the foliage with my tail raised and stood over him.
Glazed green eyes glanced in my direction, but my target made no attempt to move, his sides heaving from exhaustion. “All… I did was… steal to… feed my… children,” Aramoj whispered.
“Well, you shouldn’t have done that,” I answered before ending the suffering wolf’s life. That was my only act of mercy for him, now that I had won.
Now, why was I here? Oh yes, to eliminate Matt, the winged dictator of the Clearsky “Pack.” There will always be wolves to judge, and I’ll always be there to do it.
Art: WIP (I might not have enough time to make something before code drop…)
Other: This story was very loosely inspired by a certain creepy pasta about a haunted Majora’s Mask game cartridge. Therefore, there are a few allusions to that story in this story (including a few character names). Thanks for reading!
