Consultation with A Werewolf

This work is not yet completed or compiled fully. The subject is in transition at present and the outcomes of all events are not fully known.


To consider her dead. It made him cry but he felt that if he HAD actually lost her that she would not persist in his visions.

The blood raced away from her face as her stared deep into her eyes. He held her down by heavy force. Nails stabbing in to her flesh with burning pain. His breath heavy across her face now, enough to blow wisps of her heavy black hair back while she struggled with all her body except her head.

He did not want to hurt her or anyone for that matter. He tried very had to find a cure for the crushing feelings that clouded his mind and caused him waves of despair. The pain in his core hurt. It was a ripping, tearing feeling that could not be explained.

His knee pressed in to her thigh till he heard her cry in pain, then farther. He felt the muscle begin to flatten and spread not only from his weight but from the pointed intense pressure he was using. Her whimpering cries of pain became intense screams of song to rival his own inner pains. He locked his legs with her calves, and his feet around her ankles.

You could see it set in his mind. The wet glazed over look on her face. He could feel himself there. He felt the hard difficult way it felt to swallow. He could choke if he tried to say a word. How he knew his heart always raced full and hard to made him shake when it was someone new.How his face flushed over on the underside of it's skin where he could feel it.

He began now, with her in tears. Crying and screaming in pain. He put his hand to her cheek, sliding against her smooth skin with rough callous digits and palm. Then, grab her face punishingly hard, gripping her around the chin and in to both her cheeks. He feels the ridge of her gumline and cheek bones as he squeezes harder. Her muffled cries are stifled between his hand and her closed jaw.All the while his eyes never leave her gaze and her face.

They always killed themselves (the normals). Asking for promises to be held to was not such a huge ordeal. Why was it that if held to, there was never a threat to anyone by them, and in turn they would never be feared again? Why would someone knowingly choose to break their word especially once they knew, but more off when they didn't and had no reason to fear them. If they didn't want to be hunted and killed, then why would they enter a partnership and break it?

Tears and sweat merge then rain off the side of her face. Make-up runs everywhere in these moments. He presses her face down as if to suffocate her, feeling her neck bend downward with the pressure, then releases with a tremendous guttural growl.

The Fullmoon never played a part in the real Lunatics world. It was just there. It was the breaking of words and bonds. There was a key to setting off the change.

He never thought of the common ones anymore. Those people who's small lies set him off to begin with. Left behind like fall leaves in the forest. Yes, there were times when he had lost control in youth. But you would think there would have been more signs. People watch movies and think that like some mutant in youth that there was or had to be some pinpoint place where the powers showed and the secret was out. This is the very reason that some of them go through their whole lives never knowing what they truly were inside. Others do have some key point where they release, but are quick to be under a doctors care and drug the beast with in. They are doomed to be called 'sick' when it is their very nature they are calling sickness.

A bite didn't share a disease. It was a hidden shading of words. The bite shared their Dis Ease. Showed their pain at holding on to a mental state that was not natural to them. Spittle was not the carrier of the illness. It was the intimate dripping of their very essence in to and on to those they wished for.

He bears down to her face and sniffs deeply and fully takes in the smell of her scent mixed with fear and pain. Her breath smells female and fear smells musky and full of depth. He opens his mouth and licks her eye lids ignoring the taste of her eyeliner and concentrating on the oils that build up on the soft skin around the eyes. Her eyes close for a second as if she is off guard, and the whimpers lessen. As she opens her eyes, his jaw opens wide and his hands snap closed against the side of her head. Sharp teeth tethered with saliva are born from behind fully parted lips curled back beyond the gums. Before she can reason even a cry, he dives against her cheek and neck, sinking in hard and full, but not drawing blood.

When he felt the way he did he would lock himself in the bathroom in youth. He was one of the VERY rare few who had come to grips with what he was inside. He wasn't afraid to admit it to himself. The others cloaked it under comfortable words and euphemisms. "I'm depressed." or "I'm losing control." "I'm going insane"

Stress is the body's way of explaining to you that your heart and mind do not agree.

There is the hair thing. Now we all see the movies and watch this dramatic change. There is a physical change but it is at the biochemical level. The hair part is the feeling of your own. It is very personal. It comes from the ideas someone conveyed to someone else about what it feels like. "My hair stands on end and sticks out" or "I feel like every hair on my body" then as humans embellish on things so well to demonify what they don't understand, they enhanced this concept to give a sense of comfort. So they could hope to see the person among them who is the walking idea of what they refuse to admit about themselves.

The very thought of the inbreed fear of him indirectly empowered him further. Being covered in hair naturally he feels a sensation of an aura around him.

She tried to cringe, but fingers weaved through her hair, quickly curl and pull her head more to the side. her cries are in his ear now. Splitting his ear drum and leaving it ringing.

He sniffs the air in hopes to in action remember what she smells like. He swallows hard and mimics a look of pleasing taste.

Senses. They are better. Maybe not better, but they are more aware than say an average normal. They aren't distracted like a normal. Focused. Thats a better term. Yes, a crazed person is focused. They must be to continue. Actually focus on 'the prey', the goal, the target, the reason that they changed. It is the prime reason they can do those amazing things.

He can hear the wind blow outside through 3 storm proof windows and the leaves blowing past the base of the building wall as he follows the baseboard line with his gaze.

The sixth sense effect. They are so in tune with what they hunt, 'the prey', the reason for the change, that they live and breath as them. Once again focus is a main point here, but indirectly.

Her hands, without being seen began to raise in an effort to fend him off, but were quickly grabbed. He grips her so tightly that she can not feel her fingers as they involuntarily clench closed to fists. Then he smashes them down high and back behind her head. He sniffed up the lower inside of her arms and nipped small pieces of flesh open in random areas. She cried harder now, but more from fear than pain. He tastes the blood small and slowly oozing from these tiny slits.

He can tell what she is doing miles away.

Normals think they don't have it. They are distracted too much. They claim that a feeling of 'Love' causes them to be in tune with their partner, and thus is why they 'know' what the other is doing.

He knows that in the world among everyone he will be drawn to others like himself. Those who are in turn the same excite them in to a frenzy internally initially. She must have been one too. Most likely either living with it never knowing it or treating it as depression and illness.

He then inhales one deep long breath. Without warning or thought, lets out a great bellowing growl, flat in to her face. So hard that she feels her breathing turn inward and stop, as he narrows his eyes down in to hers

It may be that far back in those older terms we use, there is some truth as the 'wolf' is drawn to the opposite sex faster than the same. There are different results too. Males to Males are treated as company, a joint effort in a hunt. They can live and roam together but keep a distance and personal space. Female to Female is slightly different as the females are more protective of each other. They Share with each other and live close together well. Male to Female is the very thing that children's fair tales are made up of. Grandma would have stood a chance if she had gone feral. Female to Male is not as common and can result in extreme fighting. The Male should make the first contact or it means he has no interest in even being around the Female. If she persists, she runs the risk of being shunned for life. The Males will not tolerate the Females involvement without invitation, no matter how submissive or passive they come on.

Without moving his head, he can see me write and shift in my chair. He knows I respect and admire him. If I had feared him, he would know. No matter how hard I tried to cover it. He hunches forward slightly to a point where his head is lower than mine. Not because he is yielding, like some would think, but because he seeks common understanding and speaks in a bodily motions.

Many people don't know that they prefer to attack and kill their own kind. A sort of natural selection. Think it through. In many cultures it is the power of belief that causes the followers to perform incredible acts of self sacrifice and even genocide. They promote their own nature naturally by seeking and finding those who are not holding to the standards of their own nature.

They tend to be very truthful and honest. Extremely open. Not for the attention, but for the belief they up hold.

When he attacks 'prey' there are specific places he attacks.

The neck. The legs. The genitals. The glands. The wrists. The hands. The feet. These are key areas that using basic logic are going to be used to escape, leave a trail of scent, and to attract others.

Once a Female is 'his' there can be no other. He will use his 'normal' side to hunt using logic and clever cunning, and average technology. He will have every advantage over them because thats where the normals stop. Even in the most determined. But he has an extra edge. He can defy the normal logic, and perform great feats of will and even defy death itself to complete the task.

She would try to get a hold of her self while letting out small cries with each breath. Her head would turn to the side in the dim light of the sealed room. Her eyes would focus on the body laying in the corner. It is nothing but a rumbled pile of bloody mess now. Most of the face flesh has been chewed off and spat or swallowed. The clothing torn open and huge bloody scars from wear teeth had been dragged across the chest while the wrists leak a red pulp in to the now soaked carpet. The eyes are left untouched as if to let the incapacitated victim see what was coming next. His old injures known and sensed, the areas have been bilged with deep purple bruises. One bloody clawed hand print marks where the genitals had been, now leaking from the hole in the victims open neck. She is crippled with fear to the point where she loses her power to scream, just as she feels her remaining clothing ripped from her body.

They can raise from their death bed just to complete an act by shear will alone. It is as if they body must wait to give up until the task at hand is completed

He watches a rival closely. He stalks him carefully and uses his bloodlust for her as his energy and drive.

Should she falter or back away from his advances toward her, as well as when she does, he pursues him closer and at times nears rage factors that can cause him to act on his animalistic side. He is like a sniper with the target in his sights. He watches his family, friends, and very nature. She will either respect him and yield, or fear him and yield.

Her family and friends are also either a part of his pack or they are meaningless prey that are at risk of being food. Once he is freed by her lack of interest and company he will close the gap and one by one they will fall. He can wait years and will remain as thirsty for their blood as the day she looked away. In the end, there is only one cure for him.

They are full of thoughts and emotions that are sometimes not based on reality to normals. Normals use only a fraction of their emotions to keep their high functions in control. They balance or rather sway between the logic and the animal.

The "Wolf" is a old symbol of group knowledge and power. These are not large cats or dogs but rather a part of nature carrying the prowess of all animals and the logic of thought in a land based form. This is why we don't here of wererats or werebears like we do the Wolf. They are thinkers and plan their attacks with strategy.

When not in her presence or when left on a sour note, he would begin. He Used all resources at hand both natural and unnatural. Yes, a animal can use a computer, a cell phone, and a vehicle. He could use his senses, he could use their very thoughts and see the dreams that they have. When the normals would sleep or work they can stay awake and hunt for days. It is not unheard of for a heavy hunt to go on for years until the time is right. When he or she did not expect it.