Freya wandered through the forest around her home, breathing in the smell of fresh air. She liked to go to the forest in order to be alone. Her father, mother and older brother were working back in her village. They were blacksmiths but Freya hadn't inherited their talent for making tools and weapons. Instead she had a talent for making strange things happen around her. Her father believed she was a child of magic and the fact that she was born with a strange symbol on her arm made her think the same. Freya didn't have many friends around her village but she didn't mind; she was happy with her family.

Freya noticed a few wildflowers and went over to look at them. She was about to pick them up when she heard a twig snap behind her. She spun round.

A broad man with black hair was standing behind her. He may have been described as handsome once upon a time but his face had a nasty scar which started on his left cheek, went across his nose and ended on his other cheek. His green eyes examined Freya with an expression she didn't like.

'Hello beautiful,' he said stepping forwards, 'what's a pretty girl like you doing out here?'

'Picking flowers,' Freya said nervously. The man's expression unnerved her.

'For whom?' the man asked.

'My family,' Freya said.

'Ah yes,' the man said, 'they're the blacksmiths aren't they?' Freya nodded cautiously, 'Goodness where are my manners? My name is Fernald. I moved in recently with my mother and I've been watching you for some time.'

'Why?' Freya said. The man stepped closer. Freya stepped back a pace.

'I've been waiting to get you by yourself,' Fernald said softly, 'you see, I need some love and I think you can provide that.'

'What!' Freya cried. Fernald grinned nastily. Freya tried to move away but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

'You're not going anywhere,' Fernald said.

'Get off me!' Freya was starting to panic.

'Come on beautiful,' said Fernald, 'all I want is some love.'

'Well you won't get it from me!' Freya cried and kicked him in the belly. Fernald let go and Freya turned and ran. The man chased after her and grabbed her by her hair. Freya screamed in pain as Fernald pulled her towards him. The girl struggled desperately but then froze as Fernald pressed a knife to her throat.

'Stop struggling or I'll kill you,' he hissed, 'In fact, I think I'll kill you anyway as soon as I'm done.' He shoved Freya onto the ground then took a rope from somewhere about his person and tied her hands behind her back. He rolled Freya over. The young girl was sobbing with terror. Fernald sniggered nastily stroking the side of her face. Then he leaned towards her…

A sudden surge of power exploded inside Freya. This man was trying to rape her and she was not going to let him. Her body filled with more magic than she'd ever used before and she yanked on the rope binding her wrists, snapping it easily without even hurting her wrists. She pulled her hands out from behind her and grabbed Fernald's head, twisting it and snapping his neck. Fernald was killed instantly.

The rage died down and Freya struggled to her feet. She looked at Fernald's body and then started to shake. She'd never killed before and it made her horrified. She'd been furious with him for what he was trying to do to her but she hadn't meant to kill him…had she?

Freya turned and ran. She didn't stop running until she was back at the village.

'Freya!' shouted a voice and Freya saw her brother, Carter, coming towards her, 'Freya what's wrong?' Carter always knew when she was upset. Freya hugged her older brother and started crying into his chest. Carter stroked her hair trying to calm her down. 'It's alright little sister,' he said soothingly, 'You're safe. Calm down.' Freya sniffed miserably, as Carter took her to their cottage and up to his room. He sat on his bed and Freya sat beside him. 'Tell me what happened.'

'I…I was in the woods,' Freya began her voice shaking, 'then that new man…the one who moved in…he…he attacked me. He said he…he said he needed some love.' Carter stared at her.

'He what!' he bellowed and Freya flinched, 'Sorry,' Carter said realising that speaking so loudly had frightened her, 'I just can't believe he was trying to…I can't believe someone would try and do that to you!' Freya wiped her eyes.

'I…he tried to kiss me but then I…I felt power inside me…more power than I've ever used before.'

'You're magic?' Carter said. Freya nodded.

'He'd tied my hands behind my back,' she continued, 'but I snapped the rope as though it wasn't there. Then I…I…' she gulped, 'I grabbed his head and…and I broke his neck. I killed him.' Carter stared at her. Freya couldn't bear to look at him.

Then her brother wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. Freya started to cry.

'It was an accident Freya,' Carter said quietly, 'I know you would never intentionally hurt someone. Besides he was trying to…you know…you were only trying to defend yourself.' Freya sniffed. Then the door opened and her mother and father came in.

'Freya!' cried her mother, 'What's the matter?'

'She's just had a hard time mother,' said Carter, 'She'll tell you about it when she's ready.'

'N-no,' Freya said through her sobs, 'I'll…I'll tell you now. Get it out of the way,' Freya's mother went over to her daughter and sat beside her on a sack filled with grain. Her father sat beside his son and daughter.

Freya told them what had happened. They were both shocked about what Fernald had tried to do, but when she told them that she'd killed him, they tried to comfort her. Freya cried herself to sleep and her father carried her to her bed.

Agatha Wrath, the mother of Fernald Wrath, was furious about the death of her son. She knew who the culprit was and she was going to make her pay. The elderly sorceress stood outside Freya's house, muttering the words of a spell. She smiled in satisfaction as the roof caught fire and the flames started to spread.

Freya woke to the smell of smoke and burning wood. She stared around in horror as she realised that the house was on fire.

Carter burst into the room a look of panic on his normally calm face.

'Freya!' he shouted, 'Come quick!' Freya struggled out of bed and they headed down the stairs towards the front door. The house was filling with smoke. Suddenly a wooden beam fell from the ceiling right towards Freya. Carter shoved her out of the way and the beam crashed down on top of him, not quite crushing him because of another beam under it which propped up one end. However he was winded and what little space he had wasn't enough to get out from under the beam.

'Carter!' cried Freya running to her brother's side. She tried to lift the beam but she wasn't strong enough. She remembered the magic that had given her such strength the day before and reached for it but it wasn't there. For some reason she couldn't use the magic and her desperation made it hard to focus. She tugged at the beam more desperately this time.

'Freya,' gasped Carter, 'Just go. Get out of here.'

'I'm not leaving you behind,' Freya said stubbornly and tried to move the beam again.

'Freya if you don't leave now you'll die too,' Carter urged, 'you have to go. Now!' Freya stared at her brother and then made one last reach for magic but it didn't come. Freya's magic was very unpredictable; sometimes it simply went away as though it didn't exist and other times it would cause strange things to happen to her or around her, such as the supernatural strength it had given her the day before. Freya couldn't control her power and now she couldn't even find it. Freya turned and ran towards the door. She made it outside just before the door frame collapsed in on itself blocking the entrance. Freya stared at her burning house. Carter was gone. She looked around, praying that her parents had escaped the blaze but she couldn't see them anywhere. She was alone.

Freya started to cry.

Agatha saw the girl emerge from the burning house, coughing and sooty but alive. Her eyes narrowed with rage. She was about to cast a curse that would kill the girl where she stood but then had a better idea. She muttered a different spell and sent a bolt of magic which hit the girl in the back. She collapsed unconscious.

Freya woke up and didn't know where she was. She couldn't remember anything. She tried to move but she couldn't. She looked around in confusion and confusion turned to fear.

She was sitting against a tree in front of a fire and was tied securely to the tree. Her hands were tied behind her back and there were ropes around her torso which stopped her from standing up or moving away from the tree. There was a gag tied around her mouth. The girl looked around in panic and then noticed an old woman standing at the side of the clearing. The woman came over and Freya saw that her eyes were filled with hatred. Freya recognised her as the mother of the man she'd killed.

'You murdered my son girl,' the old hag hissed, 'I was planning to kill you but I've had a better idea. I will curse you to kill forever more.' She stood up and started muttering the words of a spell before putting a hand on Freya's forehead. Freya tried to turn her head away but the woman grabbed her chin with far more strength than would be expected from one of her age. Keeping hold of her chin with one hand and pressing the other to her forehead the woman continued to chant. Freya struggled but the woman was holding her chin and keeping her head in place with seemingly no effort.

Eventually the woman stopped chanting and took a burning stick from the fire. She muttered at the stick which flared forming into a panther like creature with wings. Her voice rose and she thrust the stick at Freya. Freya skin flared with pain as the fiery panther disappeared into her chest and the fire on the stick went out. As quickly as it came, the pain stopped and Freya saw that no mark had been left from the fire.

Then a burning agony exploded inside Freya's body and she let out a muffled scream through the gag. The burning went through every inch of her body, every nerve felt as though it were on fire. The pain seemed to last for an eternity but finally it stopped. Freya slumped against the tree.

'Now you will kill for the rest of your life,' hissed the hag, 'This is for murdering my son.' She untied the gag from around the girl's mouth. Freya looked at the woman, her eyes shimmering with tears.

'Please,' she pleaded, 'I didn't mean to hurt him. I thought he was going to kill me. I was just…'

'I'm not interested in your excuses!' snapped the woman, 'You killed him and now you will never stop killing.' She looked at the dark sky, 'At the stroke of midnight you will turn into a vicious bloodthirsty beast. Now you will forever be a killer.' She cackled like a maniac and then turned and shuffled out of the clearing. Freya watched her go.

Suddenly a horrible sensation rose inside her. It wasn't as bad as it had been when the fiery winged panther had gone inside her but it still made her cry out in pain. Freya writhed and then watching in horror as her body started to sprout black hairs. She grew larger, quickly breaking out of the ropes that still tied her to the tree and she felt pain shoot through her back as two huge wings grew from her back. Her vision blurred, and when she tried to scream it sounded more like a roar. She hunched as her hands turned into huge black paws. When her vision returned it was different. The edges of her vision seemed to be tinged with red as though her eyes were filling with blood. She snarled like a beast as a sudden bloodlust rose inside her, an unquenchable urge to kill.

The beast ran towards the edge of the clearing and launched itself into the sky, flapping its massive wings as it soared beneath the stars. It was headed towards Freya's village.

The Bastet – for that was what Freya had become – flew towards the village with murder in its heart. The villagers looked up as the huge winged panther dived. One screamed…it was the last sound he would ever make. The Bastet's teeth were red with blood as it turned towards its next victim, leaping on him and tearing him apart.

Inside the beast the part of it that was still Freya was horrified by what she was doing. She tried to fight the bloodlust that was coursing through her but the beast's instincts were too strong. She couldn't prevent herself from leaping at a girl, not yet twenty years old, and tearing her head from her shoulders. Freya would have vomited at the sight of the blood but the Bastet only roared.

After killing several people, the Bastet noticed men and women with swords charging towards it. It snarled as one thrust at it driving the beast back. The Bastet feinted a lunge but then drew back as a woman swung her own sword. Roaring the beast backed off. Its tail whipped through the air as a man lunged at it. The tail smashing into the man's side knocking him to the ground. The Bastet leapt on top of him, claws tearing through his chest. Then it howled in agony as a man lunged and sliced of the last few inches of its tail. The Bastet turned, batting the sword out of the man's hand with a sweep of its huge paws. It leapt forwards, biting into the man's throat and then spat him out. Another man slashed at it driving it towards a barn. The Bastet snarled and backed away before turning and smashing through the wooden wall of the barn and disappearing inside. The cows inside went wild with terror but the Bastet wasn't interested in cows. It's black fur made it almost invisible in the shadows of the barn as it waited for its prey to follow it in.

Two men entered the barn and their screams echoed around the village. Then the Bastet burst out of the barn and launched itself into the air, its great wings flapping to keep it aloft. A man shot an arrow at it. The Bastet dodged and lunged down, barrelling into the man with tremendous force, hurling him against a wall where he broke his neck. It turned towards the other villagers, snarling.

Suddenly the Bastet felt its bloodlust lessening. Its urge to kill was fading. Confused, the great winged cat growled and backed away from the villagers. Inside Freya was wrestling with the beast telling it to leave. The power of the spell only lasted about fifteen minutes, not including the one minute of midnight, and the Bastet was beginning to weaken as Freya started to regain control. She urged her beast form into the air and the Bastet ran forwards and leapt into the air, flapping its great wings as it rose up and away from the village. The villagers watched it go and the Bastet roared at them one last time before disappearing over the trees.

The Bastet landed in the clearing where it had transformed and roared as it started to shrink, the wings disappearing into its back and the fur shrivelling away as though it had been burned by fire. The red haze that had clouded its vision vanished and a moment later Freya was lying by what was left of the fire the woman had created the flaming Bastet from, sobbing uncontrollably.

Freya couldn't see how her life could possibly get any worse. Her family was dead, she was a murderer and she had been cursed to turn into a bloodthirsty beast which only existed to kill. Shaking and hugging herself, Freya cried herself to sleep.