In this village lived a young man named Derek. Derek dreamed of becoming a Knight of Renton, the highest goal one could achieve in this small village. However, the path to knighthood was dangerous. Deep in the Hollow Forest was a mighty beast. Only the bravest men ventured in to find it. Killing the creature and returning with its hide was the only way one could ever call himself a knight.
Derek trained every day since he was old enough to pretend a stick was a sword. But he wasn't very good. His friends always seemed to outpace him. Every year he'd watch as the would be knights would venture out and return each with a hide. But never Derek. He'd sit by the fire and listen to the tales the men would tell upon their return. But he wasn't confident enough in his skills.
One day a merchant was making appeared at the edge of the forest. This was an unheard of event. The forest was considered extremely dangerous. The villagers were excited. The merchant brought with him items they'd never seen. Derek was excited too. But he was not interested in trinkets.
When the villagers had mostly gone to bed he made his way to the small camp the merchant had built. Lucky the merchant was still awake, tending his fire. Derek introduced himself and sat down. The old eyes of the merchant stared at him suspiciously.
"So, what is it you seek", asked the merchant gesturing to his cart.
"Oh, nothing really. I just want to know how you made it through the wolves."
At this the merchant raised an eyebrow.
"Wolves, you say?"
"Yes, the forest is full of them. Every year we send out men to kill them."
"Kill them? Hum, cant say I saw any wolves."
"I dream of going on a hunt myself, but I'm far too weak."
The old man looked at the pipe in his hand. He seemed to be trying to make up his mind about something.
"Oh yes, the wolves. Dangerous creatures you are wise to stay out of the forest."
"But you passed through unharmed", Derek said.
"Very true, but I have a secret", said the old man.
"Please, tell me your secret. I'll buy it from you. I have gold."
"It's not mine to sell."
The old man pulled a small scrap of leather from his cloak. Carefully he untied the small binding. Derek watched as the leather opened to reveal a small cake, half eaten.
"This keeps most monsters away", said the old man.
Derek stared at it.
"How much do you want for it", he said.
"Not for sale. Besides it'd only take you half way. You'd need to find the witch that lives in the Forest to make you more."
"There's a witch in the forest?'
"So much you don't know. Well, an old man needs his sleep. Off with you, Off with you. I'm closed."
The old man placed the leather and cake on top of the stump next to him and stood up. Then, he began to shoo Derek away. Derek got to his feet, but his eyes never left the cake. In the flickering light of the campfire he could make out something written on the leather. It looked like a map. But before he could completely understand what he was looking at the merchant doused the fire.
Derek made his way back to his small house. But he wasn't ready to give up. He waited till the night was dark and the moon was high. He crept through the sleeping town doing his best not to make any noise. He could hear the old man snoring as he approached the camp. To his astonishment the cake and the leather sat right where the old man had left them.
Derek eagerly scooped them up and darted away. In the moonlight he could read the map clearly. Standing at the edge of the forest he gathered his courage. He'd find his way to the witch, buy more cake, and be back before the merchant knew what he'd done. Then, he'd be ready to take on the wolf.
First, Derek ate the cake. It was sweet and delicious. He could feel a sense of calm come over him. He looked at the map. It didn't look far. Derek felt fearless. He darted into the forest. He made his way though by moonlight. The cake lived up to the merchant's promise. He never saw a single creature.
Wasn't long till a small hut appeared in the trees. Derek didn't think that the witch would be sleeping. He wasn't even sure if witches slept. Quietly he crept up to the cottage. There wasn't a single light on. He found his courage again and knocked on the small door. Inside he heard things move. Slowly the door creaked open.
"I'm sorry to disturb you so late", he said, "But I was told you make special cakes".
"Come in", a sleepy voice called from the darkness.Carefully Derek stepped through the door. A flash of light set the fire in the oven a blaze. In the warm glow Derek could make out the shape of a woman. She was pulling a robe up over her soft shoulders. Her sandy brown hair was pulled up into a bun. She turned back towards him. Derek quickly adverted his eyes. She walked over to him holding the robe closed with one hand. Derek felt himself flush.
"So what brings you here", she asked.
He looked into her dark eyes almost forgetting why he'd come.
"Oh, um, I was told by a merchant that you make cakes that keep the wolves at bay", he said.
"Wolves at bay", she said squinting at him.
"Yes, it worked really well. I sorta stole the last the merchant had. I'd like to purchase more. And if you have something that can make them easier to kill that's be great."
"Oh, the merchant. Yes, I have more of that cake."
She lifted a tin lid off a plate on a table. Under it was a stack of cakes just like the one the merchant had. She pulled down a square of leather with a map on it and stacked two pieces on it. She turned and presented to Derek bound.
"10 pieces", she said.
"Oh, sure. And the cake that will help me kill one?"
"That's harder. I don't have all the ingredients."
"Oh. What do you need?"
"Well, maybe you can help me."
With those words the witch dropped her robe. Derek stared at her naked form in the light from the oven. He began to flush again. She crossed the room to him and kissed him hard. Derek was in shock. She pulled her lips away and smacked him, hard, across the face. Derek reeled backwards. But before he could get his footing she pushed him to the floor. His head bounced hard on the wood. Everything felt fuzzy and went out of focus.
The witch climbed on top of him. he could feel her hips grinding into his pelvis. He shook his head and reached for her. She smacked his hands away. Then stopped moving. Derek could feel himself grow beneath her, under his slacks. She stood up and dragged his pants off him. He felt embarrassed at his erection. He attempted to cover himself with his hands.
The witch smacked his hands away landing a blow between his legs. The pain shot through him and he sat up. She straddled him he could feel her warmth inches above his injury. Softly she stroked his face. Then she began to bounce. He wanted her more than anything he'd ever wanted before.
He grabbed her hips in an attempt to pull her down. She smacked him hard across the face again and got up. Derek felt himself growing angry. He'd never really been mad before. He pulled himself to his feet and stormed over to her. He reached out his hand and spun her on her heels. A smile curled across her lips. He pushed her backwards onto a shelf. Her legs parted. She hit him again, hard across the face.
The room seemed to have a red glow to it. His hand gripped around her throat. She smiled wider. He pushed himself in to her. Her hands found his back and she pulled him to her. Derek couldn't help himself. He pounded hard into her. He could feel her hands grab onto tufts of hair on his back. All at once he began to explode inside her. Spent he let her go.
He pulled himself from her and staggered backwards. The witch stood up and walked over to him. She ran her hand down his now bare chest. Derek followed her fingers. He was covered in hair.
"Every year I watch your kind come out into the woods and kill themselves", said the witch.
"I never understood why. You are such magnificent creatures. Father Night blessed you with such pretty gifts. So I guess you have a choice. You can kill this beautiful wolf and go home a hero or you can stay in the woods and learn to accept what you are."
Derek stepped backwards and slowly shrank back into a naked man. He looked at the witch with a new understanding in his eyes.
"Either way, you better bring that merchant his cake. He gets cranky without it."
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