Chapter Text
Homo Homini Lupus
'A man is a wolf to another man'
Phillip watched as his daughter stood before the congregation, collared and leashed, wrapped only in a long red cloak. Her oak eyes looked dead as they dragged her to the pulpit. The rage and shame he felt were all too real as his brother strode up to the podium, eyeing the teenager with contempt.
“God sees fit to grace us with an object lesson among our own!” He spread his hands over the wooden pulpit, long, thick fingers biting into the wood. “We must protect our sheep! And to guard our flock, we must be ready to punish the wolves who would do them harm!”
He turned, eyes dancing with that malicious glint that Philip had come to despise. When had his brother become so twisted? This wasn’t where they’d started. Not even close.
“Jacob,” Whilhelm called. “My dear nephew. Come here.”
Phillip stiffened as his seven year old son walked up to his uncle, looking a bit confused. The confusion turned to awe as his Uncle pressed his personal pocket knife into the boy’s hand.
“My grandfather passed this knife to my father, who passed it to me,” Whilhelm explained. “Each time the knife is passed on, the man it goes to must prove that he can wield it.”
“What do I have to do?” Jacob asked, his large eyes shining brightly.
“Test the Wolf. See if she is a guard to the flock, or a sinner.”
It was like watching a movie in slow time. Philip saw as his brother ushered his son to where his daughter stood. The man took the little boy's hand and guided it and the knife. The stab was quick, but effective. Willa reared back from the wound. Her body shifted, out of her control. In a flash of teeth and fur she knocked her brother into the pulpit with a loud crack. Jacob cried out, clutching at his arm. A break. Philip went to his shaking son, murmuring quietly to stay calm. He stroked his son's dark curls, trying to pull his mind back from the strange backseat numbness it had taken.
Meanwhile Karl caught hold of Willa long enough to get a needle through her fur. The wolf howled. The sound called to Philip. A futile but heartfelt plea to drop his own human shape and run to his daughter’s side. But that would be pointless, and they both knew it. Here he was almost grateful to feel numb. To feel the detachment from the nightmare unfolding around him. The wolf fell under the poison. Slowly her body reverted to the trembling teenager, clutching at her wounded hip. Whilhelm passed Karl a muzzle, which the younger man buckled over Willa’s face. She didn't fight it.
“The wolf among us must be redeemed!” Whilhelm cried. “She must be reborn as the shepherd's dog!”
Karl was hauling the shaking girl back to her feet, while Philip cradled his sobbing son. Around them the congregation called for redemption and renewal. He watched as several of his nieces dragged his daughter outside to the old oak tree. A large chain had been worked over two high branches, and hung loosely down. Two pairs of handcuffs were attached to each end of the chain before shackling over Willa’s limp wrists.
“And there she shall remain, until Dawn!” Whilhelm cried.
The cheers were overwhelming, even to his detached mind. Philip gritted his teeth and stalked over to his brother, Jacob still tucked tightly in his arms.
“I’m taking him to the hospital.” He declared.
“Understood.” Whilhelm nodded. “Just remember, Jacob. We don’t talk about church with people who aren’t Folk. Understand?”
Despite the pain, the little nodded and gave a low “Yes sir.”
“Good man.” Wilhelm beamed. “I’m proud of you.”
Philip felt nauseous as his little son smiled back through the pain. The sick feeling only spread as he walked past his daughter, chained to the tree, her head hung as the cuffs bit into her wrists. Her long thick locks of dark hair hung like curtains, obscuring the tears, but the smell of them assaulted his nose. Her blood and tears. The scent would haunt him. It was as if he’d woken from a daze. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal. His children were being destroyed in front of his eyes.
Philip gripped his son tightly and marched to the car. He’d start with the arm. And then, he would get them out of this hell. Once they were safe and free, He'd beg whatever god he still believed in to forgive him.