INTERLUDE -- Claremont, California
The Amulet of Cernunnos. The finest-wrought piece of La Tene-period Celtic jewelry ever found and the archaeological find of the lifetime. It could revolutionize the cultural study of a people so often ignored in favor of Greece or Rome. But, in the wrong hands, it would be little more than a trinket for the Black Market.
"Alright, Doc, hand the thing over and nobody gets hurt!"
Professor Richard Merrick knew these weren't the right hands in his lab.
"Sharon," Merrick calmly enunciated as he held the hefty amulet in his hand, "get out of here. I'll do what I can to hold them off."
"Sorry, doc. Your bitch stays here!"
The eight thugs moved in as Merricks fiancee made a move to run. As one grabbed her, the professor knew it was past time for words. Shoving the amulet into his shirt for safe-keeping, he grabbed a chair and swung.
Richard Merrick was a fabulous archaeologist, but a horrible fighter. He missed entirely, and the crook's fist connected -- hard. As he flew back, the breath went from him. He saw how Sharon struggled as he lay there. There had to be something he could...
AUGH!
Merrick's chest felt on fire as tried to stand up. Grabbing it, he felt something hard. How?
"Alright, doc! Give us the gold, or the lady gets it."
"I'll give you something, alright..."
Merrick smiled as he stood up. Where he had torn at his chest his shirt was ripped, and the amulet was buried into his skin itself. His blood felt on fire, as gold met flesh.
"...courtesy of the God of the Wilde!"
The middle-aged man swung into action. His senses were alive, and his reflexes more so. He kicked and punched like a pro, taking the crooks off guard, and loving every minute of it.
"Meta freak! Waste him!"
Then something happened.
BANG!
It was all so quick. The thief panicking and firing, Sharon's scream as she fell, the rage.
The rage.
The Hunt.
From tiny holes along the edge of the amulet pured wooden branches, like rivulets of oaken blood wrapping themselves around Richard Merrick. Around shod feet formed wooden hooves. Around bloody-knuckled hands formed thorny claws. Across his head draped a helmet of branches and a crown of oaken antlers.
Where had stood a meek archaeologist before now stood, seven feet of blood-soaked wood encircling a heart of shining gold, the Wild Huntsman.
"What -- oh God..." one crook stammered as his last words on this Earth as wood fortified like steel pierced his heart.
As two men foolhardily chose to stand their ground and fire useless guns at their adversary, the remaining five bolted. They would not get far. As they did, the gold runes on the amulet glowed blue with a faintly audible hum.
The hunt is on, the oaken spectre moaned in a voice from nightmare. As he did, the spectral image of five gostly wolves flickerly to life like blue flame and chased down his prey. It was all over in a moment.
As the dead was done, living wood began to crack and tear as it fell off Merrick's body. From the frame of the Wild Huntsman, the archaeologist came tumbling out, his body pierced and bleeding in a hundred places, the amulet lodged in his chest growing cold once more. As he dragged his body over to his now-dead love, only one thought came to Richard Merrick's mind.
"What have I become...?"
End INTERLUDE
