The Frontier

Foreword:
This story is the adventure of Carl, a 17 year old Alaskan, who has a run in with an ancient spirit. This
spirit had been roaming the earth since its conception and had since gotten. She had decided to start
entertaining herself by playing with mortals. And in doing so, over the eons, she had created several
myths all around the world. But in the time of this story she was working on a new project… that lead
into a whole new one. She ends up bestowing powers onto Carl; these powers will be the drive of the
story in later chapters.

Chapter One – A Not So Lonely Night

It was a cold winter night; the Alaskan sky was lit up with stars from horizon to horizon. A small cottage
standing alone amongst thousands of acres of wilderness glowed with light and the promise of warmth.
Inside the cottage a boy, maybe 17 years’ of age was busy throwing fuel on a fire that burnt in the
middle of the room. He was alone and his body was filled with fear to his very bones.
He had gotten lost while he was out with a hunting party from the town. In the corner of the room there
was a hunting rifle with a scope on it. The stock was worn and it had tape around it to keep a split from
spreading. The boy’s clothes were also old and worn, hand downs from a previous generation. It was
made up of leather, harvested from the Alaskan wild.
The boy grabbed another old book from the book shelf behind him and through it into the fire. He had a
harsh sorrow gathering in the pit of his stomach as he stood with his hands over the fire.
In the distance he could hear a pack of wolves howling at the full moon. He looked over to the rifle in
the corner of the room then let out a sigh. He had heard stories of a strange woman dressed in black
attacking groups of travelers then pulling one off into the darkness. For now he was more scarred of the
wolf pack close by.
“Come on Carl… you have to be strong now. You aren’t a boy anymore!” He announced his thoughts out
load in a manner that only someone who thought they were alone could.
Out of Carl’s sight from afar eyes were watching. They were the eyes of a woman. She smiled with evil
anticipation showing a row of teeth that were crowned by fangs that a wolf would be proud to bare.
Then she paused watching the young man as he walked to the rifle and picked it up. He peeked out the
window with the rifle in hand forcing her to step in behind a tree.
Once he went back to tending his fire and ruining her cottage she paused, thinking of a new approach.
An approach that was out of the ordinary, she told herself that she had baited the others way too easily.
It was time for a challenge.
Once she had made up her mind she reacted as though she felt a surge of pain rushing through her
entire body. She collapsed to her knees holding her ribs with both her arms. The snow around her
started melting as her appearance started to change. The black dress she wore started to crumble and
with the first breeze the shreds danced off with the wind.
Once her transformation was complete she was lying naked in a pool of steaming hot water.
She stood up and used the pool of water as a mirror. She observed that she had tiny lacerations and
scars littering her body with dull blue bruises visible at parts. She looked thinner, with her breasts and
bum still ample. She had a perfect hourglass figure now and her, which was black as night had now
turned a burning hazel.
She looked for flaws in her transformation then noticed her eyes were still their natural glowing purple.
She closed them for a second or two then opened them slowly. Her eyes were now the color of the
midday sky. She was pleased with the crystal blue so she proceeded to the next part of her
transformation. She walked over to a dead shrub and pulled some of the twigs free; she then went on to
rub these into her hair so that she looked even more bewildered. She then started walking confidently in
the direction of the cottage just before she reached the tiny porch breeze came by carrying on it tiny
pieces of cloth that stitched itself around her. She felt her self being dressed in cargo pants that were
torn, on one leg, from the knee down.