Purple Ring

A whisper was all the boy heard. A sound low and distant, but there all the same. The darkness was pitch black making any attempt to discern his immediate surroundings impossible (or any surroundings at all for that matter), and decided whoever the voice belonged to could be anywhere.
He shuffled nervously on his bed of leaves and was reminded that he had been brought to and abandoned in the forest. All the same the absolution of black told him he was somewhere else. "In the belly of a cruel beast!" Though he knew the voice (which did not belong to him) was in his head, it was distant and trailing off more with each word.
The forest was shy with it's own voice tonight and the silence of it was paralyzing. The lack of sound should have made him feel alienated or even lost he thought, but instead left him paranoid with the feeling of something near by waiting on his next move. There was a creature in the darkness ready take him for its supper or for play he was sure. Either way would mean great pain and suffering. Fear gripped him by the throat and choked out a cry before it could become audible. Then came a small stream of tears. There were waves building behind his eyelids, so he quickly dammed them up with thoughts of why he had come here in the first place. To find the wolf.
Reaching out about a foot in front of where he sat he felt for the jaw bones hoping they were still there. To his relief every one that he had used to encircle himself was still in its place. Had there been any light in the forest he would have looked quite silly. A small blonde haired boy of ten sitting with his legs up to his chin and poking his eyes out above the frayed collar of a green thermal sweater two sizes too big. At a quick glance he may have been mistaken for a turtle withdrawn in its shell. To him, however, nothing about this was silly, or funny. It can't hurt me as long as I stay in the circle, he thought to himself (or so he believed it was only to himself).
The other voice returned, no longer a whisper but an angry growl, "Do you seek my eyes child?"
Anxiety and fear suddenly squeezed his chest and shook his body. It was the wolf, somehow in his head and furious. The boy sprang to his feet while reaching into his pants pocket procuring the wax candle and matches that he had brought with him. Striking a match with his thumbnail (a trick his pa had taught him) and introducing the flame to the wick of the candle, he created a temporary blinding white light that seemed to anger the darkness as much as it did his adjusting eyes.
After a moment of acclimation he could make out a small aura that stretched out a foot or perhaps two beyond the ring of jawbones. Now he saw dead leaves covering the surface of the ground, but beyond that all was claimed by the unrelenting and absolute darkness. It seemed to even push back what dim light the candle gave off.
Just then he heard a shuffle in the leaves from behind. His adrenaline spiked and he spun with a speed which only nerves could produce and saw there the muzzle of a huge canine dipping slightly into the light. The lips of this creature slowly pulled back to reveal its mighty wet fangs which somehow created a human-like expression of sick pleasure. Its grimace shot like a bullet into the boys chest piercing his lungs. He nearly forgot how to breathe. "It's easy young one. Inhale. Exhale."
He heard the voice and yet that mouth did not dictate them. The only physical sound was a deep growl of mocking laughter from the wolf. The fear was driving itself now, but he managed to collect his thoughts. "It may be able to get into my head, but it still can't get to my body." This small reassurance dulled the fear a bit and reminded him that he needed to make his business here quick.
This creature was cunning beyond his comprehension and would surely find a way to get to him ("And chew on my bones when all is said and done," he thought) if he gave the wolf the time. He focused. "I must speak with confidence and authority. This is but a creature of the forest and if I am to be a hunter I mustn't fear it. It must learn to fear me."
He spoke with the voice of a child who had somehow found the confidence of a man. "I come for your eye. Not your true ones for I know they are were put out long ago now, but it is your mind's eye that I seek. This you will give to me." He managed this without a crack or a shake to stir his voice a bit.
The grimace disappeared and became a hateful scowl. The deep rumbling growl boomed in its chest as it stepped forward. Out of the darkness and into view emerged an enormous wolf head thick with dark brown fur save for the white strip that covered the lower part of its jaw and ran all the way down its neck, presumably covering its entire underbelly. Two large ears jutted from the top revealing one that looked to have been bitten off halfway. More frightening than its size and its soaked fangs were its eyes. There were two where they should naturally be and one in the middle of its forehead; All three of them were closed.
The wolf spoke this time using its true voice. Through gritted teeth it demanded "What does thee think this is?! I will have your meat for my meal within the hour you pathetic runt!"
"Stay focused, stay calm, do what you are meant to do." was all he could manage to think.
"I come to you as Collin son of Sam the White Hart. Son of the man who took your eyes."
At this the wolf opened the two that should naturally have been there and revealed pink rimmed fleshy pits of nothingness.
"Ah but will I not have two new ones before the night's end? The blue eyes of a lost foolish child who knows not when he seals doom for himself! Only I will have them in my hungry belly. And what appetizers they will make before I feast on the rest of you!"
"He means it. His fury is growing. I'll have to take it soon." He thought as his emotions continued to fry his nerves. Yet somehow again he found composure and spoke with authority. "Beast! I would have the knowledge of your spirit! It is my birthright, and I am here to collect that which is mine!"
Now the wolf unveiled its third eye, a beautiful white orb painted with a purple iris and black pupil. The boy was entranced by its gaze. His fear had been blanketed by a warmth that pacified him and released his anxiety.
"Come child. You will be showered in warmth and solace once you step beyond those bones. It is so close and it is all yours."
The voice in the boy's head became gentle but busy fingers gliding across his skin. Exposed and vulnerable, he slowly stepped toward the edge of the ring of bones.
And now the wolf saw nothing but a small boy in trance wearing a huge green shirt that dropped below his knees. It saw the arrogant by-product of youth and inexperience. Most of all (and thanks to his eager stomach) it saw a late meal. What it did not see was the dagger the boy had hidden in the sleeve of his shirt.
Gripped tightly in his left hand was a blade passed down to him by his father. This was the same blade that took this creatures eyes before, and the one he would keep if he survived. So when the beast, convinced that his hunger would soon be satisfied, stepped within arm's reach of the boy, it was taken off guard by the blinding speed of the boy as he plucked the purple eye from its socket and cut the tendon.
Blood gushed forth. Its howls and snarls promised unforgiving pain, but could do nothing to make it past the enchanted circle of jawbones. The wolf's cries were loud and piecing but held nothing in comparison to the screams in the boys head. The words were in a language he didn't understand, the true tongue of the wolves he assumed. These guttural roars and crackling slurs made for ugly music and tormenting pain. Blood poured from the old wounds of its former eyes to match the geyser in the middle of its forehead. The wolf began to stumble and lose its footing.
"MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS WILL FIND YOU AND ALL OF THOSE WHO SHARE YOUR BLOOD AND THEY WILL BRING TO YOU HELL AND PAIN AND TORMENT OF WHICH YOUR DEEPEST FEARS COULD NEVER ACCOMPLISH! I SWEAR SO ON MY KIN AND ALL OF MY YEARS IN THIS FOREST! YOU WILL PAY EVERYTHING FOR THIS!" And with his final proclamation he released into the darkness a bay of sorrow and fury, then fell to the ground motionless.
He had done it. The boy looked into the palm of his hand to study his trophy. Staring back was a huge black pupil wearing a deep purple ring on a blanket of glistening white. The eye looked more human than canine (even while it was still in the thing's head) and seemed to stare back with comprehension. It was his now, as well as the dagger. His first test was completed. By morning his father and his band of hunters would arrive to find he had accomplished his task and would escort him back home.
Exhaustion weighed on him like a steel suit. For now he would rest in his circle hoping that morning would arrive before this thing's brothers and sisters do. He closed his eyes expecting to fight off fear, but instead slept before he could try.