CHAPTER 1
Just west of the Urals on the very edge of Europe, a tiny village lay in the foothills. In this place, four hundred years ago, very unnatural things occurred that are still spoken about in whispers to this day.
There was a small village, where once every decade, a young woman was chosen to represent, or perhaps more accurately, sacrifice herself for her people. Nobody in the village ever knew exactly what transpired to these young women -because none of them ever returned to share a story.
The townspeople knew that the High Lord Thaddeus, who seemed as old as time itself, had always demanded a particular tribute: A young and beautiful woman to stay at his home, to keep him company in his seclusion. Thaddeus lived in a large, old castle nestled on a cliff above the Kama River. The stories of Lord Thaddeus' evil and lustful ways had endured for years and grandmothers used his presence as a warning to young children to mind their ways: "Behave or you'll be sent to Thaddeus" they would say.
Some say Thaddeus practiced black magic and could control dreams. Others said he was a shapeshifter and could conjure himself into the shape of an animal or something even more devilish. He valued his privacy, nobody had looked upon his face in untold years.
What the villagers knew for certain was that in years when Lord Thaddeus was pleased with his female companion, life in the village would go well. But in years when he was not happy with the young woman the village had sent for him, drought or disease or pestilence may follow. The villagers learned quickly to send the most beautiful, most beguiling, most sexually pleasing young woman in the community to quench the appetite of Thaddeus. In this way, they all might all have an easier life.
It had been ten years since the last young woman had left, and it was now time to choose another.
The town elders chose. Her name was Nikole, and she was indeed beautiful. Her porcelain skin was softer than the finest silk from the east. Her exquisite form was breathtaking. Her lips were full and luscious and beckoning. Her hair glinted in the sun with shades of red. Her deep blue eyes haunted the dreams of those who looked into those pools of beauty. Nikole also had a seductive presence that drove her admirers into a frenzy when she danced in the town square at festivals. What's more, she had a natural talent for music and art and needlepoint stitching. Yes, she would indeed please Lord Thaddeus. Or so the elders hoped.
Nikole did not want to leave, but she was honour-bound and knew her duty to her people. She looked upon the journey as a death sentence but was resigned to playing her role. After all, there was nobody special in her life. Despite her beauty, nobody wanted to become romantically attached to her because most men (and women too) assumed -as the most beautiful girl around- she would one day depart to become the consort of Lord Thaddeus. As a result, Nikole's sexual urges went unfilled and built up over time.
And indeed, one morning, in late October she was loaded onto a cart and driven twenty miles to Lord Thaddeus' castle.
The guards who escorted her pulled the cart to the drawbridge of the castle. They banged on the gate and yelled: "Lord Thaddeus, We the people of the village give you this young woman for your company and pleasure". There they left Nikole, shivering in a flowing white gown at the gate and departed hurriedly.
Nikole was frightened but determined not to let her fear show. She waited for what seemed like an hour and then she heard the gears begin to lift the gate. The portcullis opened and Nikole entered tentatively. She walked inside and then with a sense of dread heard the gate lower behind her.
She was alone and trapped. Her courage failed her for a moment and she fell to her knees and began to weep.
Then she heard a voice above her: A strange accent, but not unpleasant.
What is your name, child?" He asked
"My name is Nikole, and I am to be the consort for Lord Thaddeus, " she said looking up. Standing above her wasn't a man, wasn't an animal, but an abomination. A grotesque, disfigured man with a wolf's head: A werewolf!
Nikole cried out "What do you want with me?"
