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A Mothers Wrath

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This story is No. 1 in the series "The Many Connections OZ Never Had". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Mary didn't die. Instead, she lost John and her two sons. Rather than laying back and mourning over the loss of her family, Mary goes after the thing that killed them- a werewolf who resides in California. Rated FR15 for Violence.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Oz-Centered(Past Donor)AomizuokoFR151837029844 Jan 084 Jan 08Yes
The shadows surrounded them and the darkness was trying to swallow them whole. It was everywhere, consuming everything around them. Mary held the darkness in her heart. She held it close to her, until enmity flashed within her. Her anger fumed until it was nothing but pure unadulterated rage and she brought her hands up to meet the wolf, eyes blazing with hatred.

The wolf who had taken everything from her was standing before her. The moment Mary laid eyes on her she knew he wouldn’t survive the night. With a loud roar, the human flung herself forwards, long blonde hair flowing behind her. She brought her dagger to the wolf’s stomach, not caring that once, this wolf had been human. She dug the blade into the wolf’s skin, and it went through. A loud howl came from the wolf and she reveled in that pain filled scream. She twisted the blade, and red came oozing out onto her hands like mud. She felt the wolf shift; she saw it with her own chocolate brown eyes.

The form now human stood before Mary, and she kept the silver blade in her. She looked at her, brown eyes wide with surprise. Her naked form looked human; body pale and busty, two arms and two legs instead of four legs, fingers and hands instead of claws and paws. He was human again, but she knew better. Though human for a while, there would always be a savage beast within the feminine monster, watching and waiting to destroy another human life.

Mary studied the werewolf. She looked surprised, like she didn’t know that Mary would come to kill the child for what she had done. She noted the wolfs age, and felt disgusted by the fact that she could easily blend in with human children. It could easily annihilate them like the thing had done to her family.

She remembered the mutilated body of her husband. How he had lain there, eyes wide much like the wolf, how her name was the last word he had ever said. John. She remembered how her eldest son had been thrown across the room in an attempt to protect her. She remembered with vivid detail, how the wolf had dug her claws into her son’s chest, clawing into him until the small five year old was nothing but a mangled body scattered across the room. She had tried to save him, had tried to intervene but the wolf had pushed her away and she had fallen. Deanie. She remembered with revulsion, how she had woken up a few minutes later from her unconscious state to find her youngest son gone, a trail of blood leading to the outdoors. There had been enough blood to assume that the six month old child had died. Sammy.

“OZ!” She heard in the distance as a beam of light gleamed through the forest. She could hear the other wolf coming through the bushes. No doubt, he was this ones mate. She looked at this monster that now lay dying beneath her. The blade in her hand had been torn out of the monsters body and she’d forgotten when she had removed it. She studied the silver blade, as blood dripped from it onto the werewolf. The blade shun under the moons’ light and she looked up too see the werewolf’s friends coming closer.

“You killed me.” said the werewolf, and Mary looked down at the wolf, eyes flickering with surprise.

“If I had you wouldn’t be talking.” Mary said. She heard that her voice was smooth, steady like it always is. She had killed the thing that had taken her family, and nothing had changed.

“I might as well be dead.” The werewolf replied, after studying her. She saw girls calculating look and knew that she was looking for a way out. Her friends were coming closer, Mary knew this. She stepped forward, and plunged the dagger into the child’s heart, twisting until she was sure that the creature was dead.

“That was for my babies.” She said, her voice filled with an unknown emotion. She twisted the blade even more, though the monster was dead. The thing’s blood now drenched her boots, but she hadn’t notice.

“And that was for John.”

That precise moment was when the werewolf’s friend came into view. One of them was a redhead, and the other a blonde. The wolf’s made lunged at her, but she was too fast. Mary ran forwards, faster than any body had seen. She dodged the wolfs strike, and took off into the distance, not knowing where she would run too.
< The End



Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words I write. SPN belongs to Eric and BTVS to Joss

A/N: ORignally, the werewolf had been oz but a reviewer mentioned that it might be better if it was Vena, rather than Oz because it would make more sense and add more Drama/Angst. They were right and I thank you, FifthHorseman for your suggestions.

The End

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