The Forsaken Soldiers

Welcome to another edition of Scandinavian Folklore Beasts.  In this entry, we'll delve into a tale about a NATO squad, which discovers an ancient Viking curse, forcing them to fight the Varulven monster within.

Through the biting cold of northern Norway, the team trudged on, their steps crunching against the snow. Erik Nyström, a tall, broad-shouldered officer with a weathered face, led the squad through dense pines, dark brown eyes scanning the foggy horizon. A routine training exercise had brought them here, far from the rest of the world. Yet, with each step deeper into the wilderness, a sense of dread crept up Erik’s spine. A heavy silence hung in the air, thick and pressing.

"I don't like this place," muttered Kade Morrison, the youngest of the group. The lanky American’s fingers tightened around his rifle strap, his sandy hair falling messily over sharp features. An uneasy frown creased his face, though he usually masked it with bravado. Despite his usual cockiness, something gnawed at him—an instinct that wasn’t wrong. 

Erik halted, scanning the horizon. Ahead, jagged stones rose from the mist, covered with ancient runes. The symbols carved into the rock made Erik’s skin prickle. He wasn’t a superstitious man, yet the air seemed different here, weighted, as if the land itself bore some ancient grudge. 

“We’ll check it out, but stay alert. This feels wrong,” Erik ordered, his voice low and tense. His hand motioned toward Anja Sæther, the squad’s medic. Anja, with piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, knelt by the stones. Her gloved fingers brushed over the markings. "These runes... aren’t random. They’re warnings," she murmured. 

Kade rolled his eyes, a sharp scoff escaping him. "Warnings? It’s just an old burial site, nothing more." His voice had that typical dismissiveness, but it didn’t fully mask his unease. 

Before Erik could respond, a low, guttural growl echoed through the trees. The sound seemed to vibrate the very air around them, a sharp, primal warning. Kade stiffened, rifle raised as every muscle in his body tensed. The squad froze. The wind had shifted, and with it came an unsettling scent—something wild, untamed. From the dark woods, eyes glinted—yellow, predatory.

Then, they appeared. Shadowy figures, too large to be human, moved through the mist, their forms massive, hulking, and covered in dark fur. Erik’s heart pounded as the creatures' eyes tracked the squad’s every move. With a terrifying roar, one of the beasts lunged. Its claws ripped through the air, striking Kade’s arm. Blood sprayed across the snow as Kade collapsed, his scream echoing through the trees.

The squad descended into chaos. Mikkel, the sniper, fired at the creatures, but he was swiped aside by another massive wolf, his body torn open in seconds. Johan, the comms specialist, was dragged into the darkness, his screams muffled by the howling wind. Panic surged through the squad, but the creatures didn’t relent. They were hunted, stalked by something more than animal instinct. 

“We need to fall back,” Erik shouted, grabbing Anja’s arm and pulling her toward an old stave church ahead, a broken silhouette in the distance. The church, built of dark, weathered wood, groaned under the weight of time. Inside, they sealed themselves in, hearts racing, minds scrambling for answers.

Anja’s voice trembled. “That thing... it wasn’t human.” She tightened her grip on her rifle, her body rigid, and looked at Erik. The shadows outside pressed against the church’s fragile walls. 

Erik looked at the ruins. “It wasn’t just a wolf. It was him. A man—cursed, forced to hunt until the end of time.”

Her eyes widened. “How do we stop it?”

Through the window, movement caught Erik’s eye. The glowing eyes. The heavy, deliberate footfalls of the creature moving closer. He let the words sink in, knowing the only way out would demand the ultimate sacrifice. They had to confront this thing—and fast. But survival wasn’t as simple as firing a shot. Blood had already been spilled, and more would follow.

The beast’s howl pierced the night, rising from the shadows like a living nightmare. Erik reached for his rifle, the cold metal slick beneath his fingers. A choice awaited him: kill the creature, or risk becoming the next vessel for the curse. 

The door cracked. The creatures were coming. Erik and Anja locked eyes, no words needed. They would face whatever came next, together.

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