Werewolf the Podcast Ep. 202: Psychotic Werewolf vs Evil Fairy Foxglove | Vampire Queen Sammarat & Supernatural Horror Story

A psychotic werewolf, his wolf soul Fen, and the immortal Simon de Montfort face one of their most dangerous enemies yet—Foxglove, a sadistic and unpredictable fairy with terrifying power.

Meanwhile, the ancient vampire queen Sammarat, a ruthless ruler from the Sumerian age, moves closer to reclaiming the human world.

Trapped inside a mysterious magical barrier, the werewolf must outwit a creature that thrives on chaos and cruelty. But when Foxglove unleashes her true power, the consequences are devastating.

Across the divide, the Professor prepares for war—armed with relics, weapons, and the help of a deadly Werecat and a loyal Chupacabra.

Expect:

• Dark humour and brutal horror
• Supernatural battles (Werewolf vs Fairy)
• Ancient magic, portals, and changelings
• A chaotic villain you’ll love to hate

Perfect for fans of:

• Horror fiction podcasts
• Supernatural thrillers
• Werewolf, vampire, and fae mythology

Start here or jump into the ongoing serial story—but beware… things escalate fast.

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Transcript

This is Queen Sammarat, a vampire from the Sumerian period. She has lived for many thousands of years and has caused a lot of bloodshed. She was a god and now wants to take the world of humans back into her beautiful cold grasp. You can hear about her most recent attempt to take back the world and how a psychotic werewolf and an immortal professor called Simon de Montfort try to stop her at the following link.

Although I would not want to stop her.Do you want to listen to a story about a psychotic werewolf who likes the fact that he is a horrible monster and, in fact, revels in it? Then, this is the fictional podcast series for you to listen to.

'It's initially horrendous but great, but then we get significant character development as we go through the episodes. Thank goodness for the Prof.' G Richardson.

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Would you believe a Werewolf could be frightened of a Fairy? It does not seem right, does it? Werewolves are not afraid of anything, are they? Maybe fleas? Who knows. Ticks? Anyway, the Werewolf and his Wolf soul are trapped and in trouble. Foxglove is going to try and get her way. What does anyone in this situation do? You annoy the psychotic f*cking fairy! Seems sensible.

The Prof is getting ready for... Well, he does not have a clue, really, so he decides to take everything he can. Sadly, this does not work out for him well. Luckily, he has a Werecat and a Chupacabra to help.

The latest episode of Werewolf the Podcast: The Serial (Killer) Drama.

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Would you believe a Werewolf could be frightened of a Fairy? It does not seem right, does it? Werewolves are not afraid of anything, are they? Maybe fleas? Who knows. Ticks? Anyway, the Werewolf and his Wolf soul are trapped and in trouble. Foxglove is going to try and get her way. What does anyone in this situation do? You annoy the psychotic f*cking fairy! Seems sensible.

The Prof is getting ready for... Well, he does not have a clue, really, so he decides to take everything he can. Sadly, this does not work out for him well. Luckily, he has a Werecat and a Chupacabra to help.

The latest episode of Werewolf the Podcast: The Serial (Killer) Drama.

Thee Fairy floats and gloats before me. She says nothing. She just flutters and bites her bottom lip, looking at me with glee on that very pretty green face. I mean, she is very good-looking, but I do not know whether that is a glamour or not. You know what I mean by glamour, don't you? 

It's like the tricky shitty sort of magic that the supernatural con creatures do. In the least harmful cases, it makes them invisible or hidden. In the worst cases, they can make you think you are back with a lost loved one. They can seduce you to murder. Convince you to ra... rai... hah choo. Raid the cookie jar when on a diet.

I mean, they can be used to hide a cliff that you could be made to walk off. They could get you to pay their lunch bill, hmm!.—all that cool shit. I have to learn to be glamorous. It would be so cool. Making daft twats walk off cliffs. I don't think glamorous is the correct term for that, though, huh?

I like the cliffs idea. That would be fun. Making the edge seem one foot further back than it really is. Until now, I had to just chuck people off cliffs for laughs. It was annoying sometimes to have to catch them first. It would be fun to have them do it themselves. Watch their little flailing bodies. 'Oh help me, I am falling to my death.' before the satisfying splat. Aaah, joyful.

'Nah, she is pretty pretty alright.' Says Fen, my werewolf soul bringing my thoughts back to the little gloating... bitch hovering in the air before me on shimmering wings.

I notice she has not entered the protection bubble surrounding me, Fen, and the seat. It is slightly there, the protection shield thing. I know what does that mean, slightly there? But what I mean is that the bubble seems there and yet not. Yup, weird in a weird way. It is magic and stuff, so weird should be a part of the experience.

'Aint you going to fight against your restraints in a manly Alpha Wolf sort of way.'

'Are you not going to rail against your chains like Fenrir himself? Are you not going to become the big wolfman and rip your way from the chair and through this thin magical protective miasma and kill everyone and everything, then grab me and then... and then...' 

The Fairy was off on some sort of thought train that was very personal and seemed very exciting... for her. She shook with a lot of excitement. It was shocking to behold. The next few sentences made very little sense as she garbled words. 

Her body language that accompanied the whole thing was very, a lot, with certain actions that would have to take this episode to an R-rated listing if it was video. I mean, I know that some of you would have liked to have seen that, yet I have saved some of you who did not want to see it from seeing it.

Eventually, she calmed down. Even the creatures that stood with her felt uncomfortable. There was definitely an awkward tint to the air. I am a werewolf, so my senses see things a little differently than your poor monkey ones. This air had an awkward tint. It's kind of aubergine coloured awkward. 

She was still flittering in the air but looking slightly exhausted and leaning against the arm of the giant pile of shit that was... the... well, the giant pile of shit. She was using a small fan retrieved from somewhere in her clothing. Where she took that fan from looking at her er, her tiny outfit, I could only guess. It definitely had no pockets. Fen sniggered at the mental imagery I had running through my brain. I sniggered, too. When together, we can act like real teenagers. It was ace.

'Oh... my... Oh my, that was a very exciting moment.' She said, her green cheeks turning red with a little embarrassment and increased blood flow, and the fan was almost invisible at the speed of its use. 

'I bet it was.' The giant wolf soul said with another unwolfy snigger, which she ignored.

'Anyway, I need to focus.' She said out loud to all. 

'You are so hot!' She told me, engaging in that very deranged manner with my left ear. 

'Anyway, right, ahem... get my knickers out of the tw...ist and be professional, Foxglove' She rummaged her left hand around her backside. I can only imagine that she was straightening her tiny knickers. While she erm rummaged, she continued to talk to herself out loud as though no one else could hear what she was saying. It was professorism. 

'Most disconcerting'

'She's fucking nuts.' Said Fen. Now that was a Fenism.

The creatures with Foxglove shrunk back at his words, and Foxglove went instantly silent and stared at the wolf soul. She had a twitchy right eye and a look on her face somewhere between happiness and utter madness. 

I looked at Fen, and he looked at me and shook his huge hairy head.

'Utterly mental that one.' He told me, and I smiled even more.

I knew he was trying to make her angry, and I hoped he was doing a good job of it.

'Who or what the fuck do you think you are in my life. You're a see-through, pointless fur ball. You can't even touch the world. You can't even scratch your own itch. You are a loser and have no power without this one.' She was breathing hard and pointed at me. 

Her face changed briefly when she looked at me. It was a hungry face and, although not angry, did not make me feel any better than Fen felt at that moment. Actually, that face made me feel worse than he could possibly feel.

'Yup.' He said in my brain. 

'So what are you going to do Fen- rear. All you can do is talk.'  She spat at the Soul.

Silence reigned for a moment before the children's chanting came back into the range of hearing that my head had adjusted to from listening to the Fairy. 

As she had shouted and yelled, she had got closer and closer to the membrane of the magical shield-type thing. I now got what Fen was up to. Come on, Fairy Foxglove. Get inside this bubble of protection. It's a bubble of irritation for us, and we will see what little power Fenrir has, Foxglove.

The Fairy's nose touched the bubble, and she stopped moving suddenly. A look of sly recognition slowly drew itself across her face. The anger left her, and she smiled as she raised her right hand and touched the corruscating membrane of magic before her.

'Oh, you're good. See that, guys.' She turned to her hoard of horrors. Who nodded heads and cowls and bits that should have been heads. 

'You see that?' She pointed to us now as if to emphasise what she was saying. 

'You were trying to get me to... ' Again, she looked at her crew and pointed to us. 

'You were trying to get me in that aura of protection.' She shook her head in disbelief. 

'See how we need him. They are good. Real good.' This time, she said to herself.

Her focus then came back to us as she flew around the entire bubble of magic, laughing. We watched her. How could you not watch a mini force of madness like that? She was mesmerising.

She paused in her journey and pushed a toe gently through the magical force field, and shivered with an audible. 'Oh!'

'You were trying to get me to come inside there, ' she laughed as she quickly withdrew the toe, turning to look at her cronies, who were trying to figure out how to react to what was happening. The four faires that flittered at the front all looked confused. The other creatures, well, they just looked like they usually did, which was confused. 

'Did you see that girl's he was trying to get me to...' She poked an arm through the membrane up to the elbow without looking at us. She had all her attention on the fairies with her. Could we should we? I looked at Fen, and he shook his head in a no. 

'...stick my bits in so that he could...ahahah ...grab me!' She turned to the four flying women. They looked at each other, and then Foxglove and faked laughs uncomfortably.

Foxglove was not satisfied with this, though. She gave the other creatures at the party an unhinged look, and they joined in with a laugh out of an innate sense of self-protection. 

Oh, it was time to wind up the weirdo, and at this thought, my wolf soul nodded. Strangely, she could not hear my shared telepathic thoughts, but she could clearly hear my wolf when he spoke telepathically.

I laughed, and Fen accompanied me with his own wolfy chuckle. Purposefully being annoying comes easily to me andmy best friend. What were the possible consequences? Well, we didn't care. We just wanted to see if we could make the fairy snap.

'She snapped already.' Said Fen.

Again, joint laughter from us. 

The fairies' focus now turned away from her—erm, gang, back to me. She had a questioning look on her face as to why we were laughing. Yes, we had her starting down the slope of a temper tantrum. 

It was easy to do because she was too easy to read. This was not even going to be a challenge to wind her up. In Britain, we love to wind people up. I call it bullying light. Normally, this kind of winding up would be aimed at those that had great opinions of themselves. 

The fairy's face hardened, and she slowly withdrew her arm from the magic boundary that surrounded us. Viciousness became her evident emotion. 

'Whatcha laughing at boys?' She said quite softly and sweetly. 

Fen and I looked at each other, then back to the Fairy and started laughing again. You could see that she was not used to beings, being like this with her.

'Watcha laughing at boys.' She said demurely, taking her focus to her well-painted nails.

The other Fairies were now flittering into cover behind the lump of a giant. The cowled figures made as much space as they could between us and them. Even Gupsi hid himself behind the giant's foot and peeked out from his sight of safety with a very evil grin. 

The giant, well, he just seemed to have no idea as to what was happening. His focus was elsewhere as he picked what looked like a badly damaged microwave from a gooey nostril, examined it with care, and then placed it hungrily in his mouth. 

It might take just one more stir of the pot to make her pop. Here it came. I looked at Fen, and he looked at me. We nodded at one another and laughed again. The Fairy exploded in anger. It was... What would the professor say? 

'Utterly marvellous.'

'Eeh, this takes me back to the time when we managed to get Sargeant Johnson to stand on that anti-personnel mine back in Iraq.' Fen said, laughing at the nostalgic memory. 

'Well, except that his explosive reaction got him to jump about fourteen feet in the air and tore his legs off. Aye, I do look back on that with a happy heart. The blood and the screams.'

Then the Foxglove mine went boom. She screamed a keening scream. The wolf's soul shucked his head at the horrendous sound. 

Scream

'Well, that's loud.' Fens mind sent to mine. 

'Makes my teeth buzz!'

The magical gang of creatures on the other side of the magical membrane flinched down and held their heads, trying to cover their ears. 

The rage was beautiful to watch. I have to say it was impressive. She must have been screaming for multiple seconds and continued to do so as her rage and face turned to her compatriots. The fairies were blasted from the air onto the ground in a complicated pile. The stupid, long scream of rage continued as it passed over the row of kids in front of me. 

It was as though she was producing a beam of extreme heat or something. Wherever the scream was directed, children died. Heads exploded, and bodies melted in the chairs. Fires broke out, and children were burnt and scalded. The few youngster's faces we saw were filled with terror and pain. It was amazing to see. This little creature's power was beyond anything I could conceive such a little creature to have. 

It carried on. We watched more kids torn apart and wrenched from their seats. Ten seconds of this type of thing is a long time, but it seemed to go on for a lot longer than that. It was... awesome.

Eventually, the scream ran out of steam, and the Fairy fell from the air. I thought she was going to crash to the ground in a faint, but she landed gracefully on her feet. She was exhausted. Silence fell. 

The two cowled creatures accompanying Foxglove had already turned to putting out fires and stopping those survivors of the horrific attack from suffering further. Their magics were impressive as they fought to bring a dose of normality to this unnormal room. 

Slowly and somewhat disapointingly, the screams and moans of the dying stopped. The four fairies had picked themselves up from the floor and gave nervous giggles as they looked around at the destruction Foxglove had caused. 

Gupsi and the giant were trying to put out the giant's foot, which had started to burn merrily. Gupsi was wafting a cloth, and the giant was stamping on his own foot. Again, it was amusing to watch the two of them.

Foxglove, well, Foxglove was at her most frightening. She was not posturing or talking but stood with her head bowed to the floor, and I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck. 

She was obviously a little, erm, tired from the massive amount of energy she had just released.

I wonder how many she had killed with that scream. My ears were still ringing from it, and we were in this protective bubble thing. 

She now slowly lifted her head, and my eyes met those eyes...

The Professor.

We were finally ready for action. I would like to say it was Vaughnt's fault that she had taken a long time to get prepared. This was not the case. The time had been mine that had been taken.

We had dealt with the two challenging changelings that had come to take me hostage, prisoner, or maybe guest. Who knew? They could have tried to kill me. They could have tried.

The portal invoked by our dead attackers was still standing, so I decided to go back through it. As I had no clue what would be on the other side, I had to make sure that I had all I needed. Most important of that kit was the Werecat herself.

The Werecat was bored and distractedly played fetch with Dave, our household pet, a Chupacabra. He was having fun, bless him. 

I had got everything I could think of, I was sure. I had a large pile in front of the magical gateway to wherever.

I was doing an audible audit-type thing to see if I had all I needed so I could focus on what I was doing instead of being disturbed by the loud silence that Vaughnt was employing to make me hurry up.  

'Okay, Okay, I have all forty-two Apotropaic magic amulets.' I said as Vaughnt yawned only as a Werecat can. She had no need to be able to tell me that she was bored in sign language. She was obviously bored, but I knew that good planning for these things was tantamount to their success. 

'Do I need the hermanoganic amulet? No... no, that has been useless since that job in France with the Beast of Gévaudan. I have my six wards of power.' I kicked a black nylon SWAT bag. 

'Erm hissing Crebelux worm!' I kicked a canvas army kit bag, which hissed back at me in response.  

'Yes, that's in the top of the bag.'

'I have the thirty-two elixirs of Marshkempt; yes, they will be bloody useful if those changeling things have glamours. Hmm! now for the powders?' I knelt to my leather saddle bag. It's funny how I had never transferred these things from this ancient leather sack since the 1400s. I stroked the bag with an index finger soaking up the feelings of the past that it imbued in me.

My mind came back to the present. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that both Dave and Vaughnt had given up playing ball and were sitting and looking at me with an element of disgust.

'Too many to name at this juncture. All I need, though, I hope. Belt of ten glass vials of iron filings 100 grammes each. Belt of ten glass vials of salt from the Dead Sea. Belt of ten vials of sulphur blessed by the devil herself. Now, I turned to the pile of weapons that I had brought. 

'Arming sword, short sword, hammer, poignard and skinning blade. Baldric belt. Hip scabbard thigh scabbard.' I loved the medieval mixture. I knew them so well that I could quickly move on.

'I have my two browning high power pistols, one blessed and burdened with silver bullets.' I quickly ran through checks on the beautifully maintained pistol. I smoothly ejected the magazine and then wrapped the slide back and forth a few times before replacing the clip. I stowed it in the holster and placed it in the tote bag before doing the same with the dark iron pistol with the dark iron shells made from sky iron with a holster for the chest. I got to my feet again. 

'I have the two glocks standard. Hmm! Shotgun! It has to be the Mossberg. Much easier to use with wet hands. Iron filing shells and hellfire shells, fifty of each. Bandoliers for those.' 

'Sheild, hmm! Nah, I don't need it. I want it, but it will just get in the way. 

'Two litres of multi-faith blessed water. It's not the best, but it will do the job. Erm. Okay, I can't hear you there, being all silent, Vaughnt. I am hurrying, old thing.' I told her.

'Got that bloody awful Kevlar body armour.' I shook my head.

'So badly put together. You just don't get the armourers today. I mean, even the tailors aren't much cop these days.'

'Okay, Vaughnt. Could you please help me get into all this kit? It would be awfully kind of you,' I asked her, turning to the full-length hall mirror as I started to dress. In the reflection, I saw the young woman roll her eyes and then make her way towards me.

Ten minutes later, I was ready with the aid of my housekeeper. I was armoured up and had everything in easy reach on my body. Luckily, I had been a knight in prior centuries. I was used to full plate. This modern stuff would be easy to carry. I posed a little in the mirror. I have to admit I looked like an absolute, what is it those American chaps say? A total badass. Yes, that's it—a total badass.

Next to me stood Vaughnt. She looked at me in the mirror with a hint of perplexed amusement. 

There was I, totally prepared for everything. Holsters, swords, knives, several bags of magical items, Kevlar armour and finally, the Mossberg shotter wracked on my shoulder. Gosh, everything I needed and a bloody badass to boot.

There she was in her black body glove, wearing a unitard-type thing and sporting a fresh haircut, and that was it. I mean, she was a living weapon, was she not? The suit she had donned was no less technical than any of the kit I was wearing. It had been designed by the government boffins to be able to handle her transformation to the Werecat and back. I would have to get Wil something like that. Why had he never thought of that?

'Is that everything you need old girl?' I asked her.

She turned back and forth in front of the mirror. She was checking herself over, and I have to admit, so was I. She was a fine example of a Homo Felis Silvestris, and that body glove thing did... I am, for all my good qualities, only a man at the end of the day. 

I suddenly noticed she had paused in her movements, and my eyes went from... where they... erm rested to her almond-coloured eyes. 

She signed to me in no uncertain terms to 'get your eyes up here.' I coloured somewhat in response.

'Erm...' I tried to start, but she just shook her head and preened the black mohawk that stood a foot high, checked her perfect gothic style, I believe you call it, make-up, and bowed to present herself for my inspection with a big smile. I did my best as a gentleman and tried to recollect what a youth of her generation would like an old fuddy-duddy like me to respond with.

'Erm...' What is it I should say? Radical? No, no, no. Awesome, yes. No, not awesome. I settled on an oldy but a goody. 

You look utterly dangerous, my dear,' I told her. Her smile and the cat's pointy teeth she exposed were a happy given reaction from her.

I gave myself the final patdown checks. 

'Ah blast, I forgot the hairs of Catherine of Sienna, damn it.' I said.

I was about to turn to the stairs when Vaughnt once again stood in front of me with the little plastic envelope holding the two incalculably valuable strands of that saintly woman's hair. I was now bombproof in warding offany paranormal attacks. 

I carefully slipped the tiny packet into the breast pocket of my body armour. A gentleman always has a breast pocket in his jacket. Where else would he put his handkerchief?

I repeated the patdown check, completing it happily.

'Right, let's go.' I said before realising that Dave was still abroad in the hall.

'Could you...' I managed to say, pointing towards the Chupacabra before it disappeared in a cloud of snot with a cut-off whine. Doors opened and closed, and the young woman stood in front of me with a face of excitement. 

She was bloody quick.

I turned from the mirror to go to the portal and fell onto my face like a giant sequoia tree with a crash of heavy items reverberating through the echoey hall.

Hmm! I tried to press up in a manly manner but sadly could not. I tried to roll to my back to sit up but was held pretty firmly by items, which prevented me from doing so. Hmm! I managed to get my elbows under me so that I could lift my head. 

I did not want to. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I looked at Vaughnt. She was laughing and holding her stomach in complete silence. All I could hear was the heavy breaths of her mirth.  

I watched her happily, and it was utterly hilarious when I considered it. After a few moments of her getting herself together once more by wiping the tears from her eyes and sighing, I told her the obvious. 

'It was those bloody hair of St Catherines. Who knew she was so bloody heavy-headed?'

Vaughnt rocked back into silent guffaws. 

'Well, it was rumoured she thought a lot about herself. She must have been quite 'big-headed' as the Anglo-Saxons say. 

Again, I watched the young woman amused with my own amusement before adding further to it by continuing.

'Erm... Vaughnt, dearest girl, could you help me... erm, get some of these things off, please? I might need a little help in doing so.'