Beast of Gevaudan

I decided to write this story on the beast of Gevaudan after reading the info on http://labete.7hunters.net/bete1.htm.

It was 1765 and Marie and Jeanne, two sisters were headed home from church. Marie was 15 and Jeanne was a year younger. The sun had set and the hours between dog and wolf had passed. The path was well lit by the starlight reflecting off the freshly fallen snow. It was cold and the girls took turns trying to make shapes with their visible breath in the night air. Church had been boring again. But it was always their tradition to go on Sunday nights. Both sisters were anticipating the hot tea their mother would have on the stove when they got home. Marie began to whistle a hymn. Then, a twig snapped. Instantly both girls froze. Both knew that the beast had been seen in a town not far away. The legends told of a wolf like beast the size of a bear with a tale strong enough to knock a man to the ground and teeth like kitchen knives that dripped blood. Terrified the two girls snuck forward quickly and quietly. They tried not to remember what the peddler a had said about what remained of its last victim, little more than a hand and clothing. Again they heard something moving in the brush to their left. Snatching Jean's hand, Marie started to run. The exit to the forest was just ahead. From there they would be able to see their home. Their feet fell quickly upon the path. A growl sounded to their right. Casting her eyes about the path, expecting to see La Bete at any second. She thought she saw eyes in the shadow of a tree a few yards in front of her. A sudden tug jerked her from the path and forced her to release her sister's hand. Paniced, she looked back. Jeane was lying on the ground with eyes full of fear. Marie looked passed her and saw the root sticking out of the ground. Both got to their feet and dashed for the exit. Clearing the woods and dashing across a small bridge Marie glanced back to see a black blurr disappear into the weatfield. Horror gripped her heart, but the light from the windows of her cottage gave her hope and spurred her on. The wheat in the field to their left was swaying as the pursuer chased them. Suddenly Marie heard a stifled scream. Looking back, she screamed in terror. Jean was gone. All that remained were dots of crimson upon the snow where her tracks had suddenly disappeared, replaced by huge wolf like prints. Screaming for help and crying Marie stumbled to the cottage. She reached for the door and caught her last glimpse of the beast before her hand touched the latch. She didn't have time to scream. Only seconds passed before her father ripped open the door with enough power to nearly tear it from its hinges. All he found were her shoes and blood on the snow. The next morning, a search party turned up what was left of Jean and Marie. They were only recognizable by the terrified look they still had in their eyes.

This is too morbid for my style so here is the alternate and more awesome ending. Suddenly, Marie heard a stifled scream. She turned to look back and fell as Jeane crashed into her. Looking up she saw the beast standing over them jaws dripping, eyes smoldering like embers, and orangish fur standing on end. Its foul smell permated the air. The beast muscles tightened as it prepared to pounce. Crack! The silence was shattered by a gun shot as a hunter burst from the field and leapt onto the road between the beast and the girls. His wide brimmed hat flying from his sholders, as he jerked the ramrod from its hold and began to reload. The beast roared and came forward. The hunters greatcoat flew open as he dropped his gun and drew his sword. His slashing blow cut the beasts shoulder. Roaring in pain it jumped back into the wheatfield. With a quick glance at Marie and Jean, he scooped up his rifle and disappeared into the field into pursuit of the beast. Marie and Jean made it safely home that night, but the never forgot their run in with the Beast of Gevaudan.