Werewolf Chronicles Chapter 6

Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 6

         “Hrgph.”  James was barely conscious, his mind filled with a thick fog, making it hard for himself to think clearly.  His muscles yelled with fatigue and pain, dried blood was coating his face and muzzle, sticking his eyes solidly shut.  Thick steel restraints were wrapped around his wrists, another set secured his ankles to the floor, while a thick leather collar was wrapped tight around his throat, restricting his breathing.  James tested the restraints with his hands; they were definitely strong, easily enough to keep a normal werewolf stuck, but he knew it wasn’t enough for him.  He forced his eyelids open, the dried blood puling the fur there and flaking down his snout.  James was in the center of a large room, hanging from a thick steel I-beam that ran the length of the room.  It reminded him of a butcher’s room, hooks were hanging along the ceiling, with a large drainage grate in the center.  A thick freezer door sat in one corner, its inner handle removed and a camera placed in the wall above it.
         The outer door squeaked open slowly, a woman walking confidently inside.  She was wearing a thick ski-mask, concealing her face and carrying a lethal looking combat knife.  In her other hand was a silver metal spike, which she held loosely.  Behind her were a pair of shotgun armed guards as well as another woman, taller and leaner than the first.  They were all wearing masks, and eyeing him nervously.
         “He’s all yours,” the woman said, leaving with the two guards.
         The first woman drove the silver spike into his side, searing pain rocketing through his body as his flesh sizzled painfully.  He tried to speak, but all the tight collar would allow was a strangled growl.  She stabbed him again in the side.  “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!”
- - - -
         Six Months Earlier

         “Movement, south,” Vivian reported over her headset radio.  She was in her werefox form, with orange outer fur, a soft yellow underbelly and snout, with black tips on her claws, feet and bushy tail.  Small, but powerful muscles moved beneath her fur as she re-aimed the sniper rifle to follow James’ movement.  She was watching the government compound they had escaped the previous month; smoke and fire were billowing out of the facility, small explosions rocking the concrete walls.  James reacted to her warning, his wolf form dodging an RPG rocket as it streaked towards him, detonating against an armored van.  Powerful legs threw him through the air and he pounded onto the rocket team; his claws viciously ripped into the lightly armored men, tearing them into pieces and tossing them away with a savage roar.
         “See anything else?” James asked over his own headset, scanning the destroyed courtyard.
         Vivian scanned the burning wrecks, but only found lifeless figures around them.  “Looks clear.”
         “Pick me up in the truck, I’ll meet you at the road,” he said, sprinting away.
         She stood up, shouldering her rifle and moving back down the small rise she had been on, and towards the truck parked at the bottom.  Her change was much slower than James, flowing from the top of her body down; her athletic clothing shrinking back to her body.  It was an older Ford truck, dents covering most of its body, while the paint was an odd assortment of colors.  The truck started on the second try, thick black smoke erupting out of the exhaust.  She drove slowly through the path they had ripped early through the underbrush, bouncing back out onto the small, gravel road.  James was already waiting for her, back in his human form and using his free hand to hold up his ruined pants.  She slowed to a stop and he quietly climbed inside, ripping open his backpack from on the floor and dressing silently.
         “I go through too many clothes,” he mumbled to himself.
         “How old are you again James, how long have you’ve been a werewolf?” Vivian asked once they were back onto the highway.
         “Only a few months,” he replied, digging through his pockets.
         “You’re too strong for that.”
         He looked at her for a moment.  “Look what I found,” James said, holding up a titanium colored USB drive.
         “That’s probably encrypted.”
         He held up several ID cards, a small golden computer chip resting in the bottom of each.  “That’s what these are for.”
         “Where to next then?”
         “North, let’s find a hotel.”
- - - -
         Vivian relaxed against the fluffy hotel pillows, watching a cheesy science fiction film and eating out of a bag of chips in her lap.  James sat at the cheap desk, dismantled weapons strewn about the desk while he worked diligently at his laptop.  The USB drive was plugged into one side, while a card reader scanned each of the ID cards, beeping occasionally to let James know its progress.
         “What are you looking for?” she asked during one of the commercials.
         He held up the melted remains of Elisa’s phone, keying it on and tossing it to her.  “This was the last call she got.”
         Vivian caught the phone awkwardly, surprised that it still worked.  On the screen, in dull white letters was the name ‘Lisa Kopek.’  “Who is she?”
         “A hunter.  She tried to kill me a few months ago.”
         “Why don’t you relax some, take a break?” she suggested, offering the bag of chips.
         “Because they won’t.”
         Vivian sighed dramatically, dusting the crumbs off her blouse and standing up.  “You don’t have to be serious all the time.”
         “Yes, I do,” he said, reassembling the weapons angrily.
         “You’re not the only one who’s lost family James!”
         He swallowed, sighing and turning to face.  “Who’d you lose?”
         “My parents.”
         “Oh, sorry.  What happened?”
         Vivian turned to face him, tossing the snack food aside and crossing her legs.  “When I was about ten we were vacationing in Florida, you now the whole Disney thing?  Aperture Science caught us on the way back, killed my dad as he was driving, we crashed into a tree, and they captured me and my mom.  She gave up her life to get me out of there, they cut her down, and she was only trying to save her daughter.  I can still . . . remember how it smelled.  Excuse me.”  She darted to her feet, covering her face and running into the bathroom.
         “Shit.”  James followed her to the bathroom, knocking lightly on the door.  “Are you okay?  Vivian?”
         “No,” she said, trying to muffle a cry, but failing.
         “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
         “No . . .”
         “Hell,” he grumbled, leaning against the door.  “Then what do you want me to do?”
         Vivian pulled the door open slowly, peeking her head out to look at him.  She was still crying slowly and using bath tissue to dab at her eyes.  Without warning, she ran at James, wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight hug and bursting into a new wave of tears.
         Crap.  He awkwardly returned the hug, unsure how to react to the attention.  “Are you okay?”  Vivian’s sobs grew in intensity, burying her face in his shoulder and gripping at his back.  James stroked her hair slowly, letting her emotions run their course.
         After what seemed like hours, Vivian released him and stepped back, smiling sheepishly at him.  “Thanks, it just kind of caught me by surprise.”
         “It’s okay,” James said walking back to his desk.
         “Are you?”
         “Huh?” he grunted, looking back.
         “How are you doing?”
         James chewed his lower lip, looking at her.  “I’ll grieve later.”
- - - -
         Three Months Later
         
         Vivian shivered against the cold, wrapping the winter coat tightly around her human body.  She was standing in the middle of a small roadside rest area, James at the far end talking to one of the local pack leaders.
         “I’ve heard about you,” the pack leader said; she looked in her mid forties, with short black hair and a thick build.
         “Yeah?  Am I famous or something?” James snapped at her.
         “Yes, and it’s going to cause more of our kind to die.”
         “Not if I kill all the bastards that are trying to kill us.  Admit it, since I took out those local werewolf hunters, there’s been less threat for you.”
         She growled under her breath, staring angrily at him.  “For now, but what about tomorrow?  Or the day after?  What about when their families show up?  You just postponed their attacks!”
         “Then I’ll kill them too.  Look, I’m not looking for any help just information.  Have you seen this hunter?”  James held out a photocopy of Lisa Kopek’s drivers license.
         “I know about her, I think she’s heading to Missouri, hunting Maxwell’s pack.”
         “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, turning to leave.
         “I thought that was your pack too?”
         “I don’t really have a pack.”
         Vivian nervously followed him into the truck, remaining quiet as they drove back onto the highway.  “I thought packs were important to werewolves?”
         “Elisa was all the pack that I needed . . . now I don’t have anything.”
         “I’m staying with you,” she mumbled at him.
         James half smiled at her.  “Good, I need all the friends I can get.”
- - - -
         Vivian scanned the clearing in front of her, sweeping the sniper rifle back and forth.  They were only a few miles over the Missouri state border, resting in a small state park.  James had called Maxwell’s number, and the werewolf had set up a meeting for here.  She didn’t trust the werewolf pack, in her experience large groups of lycanthropes only gave the hunters a bigger target to hit.  James walked slowly into her field of view, scanning the trees, crossing his arms over his chest against the cold.  Movement ahead of him caught her eye, and she swung the sniper rifle over a lithe, stark white werewolf as she walked towards him.
         “Katalyn,” James said icily.
         “James.  Where’s the wife?” she taunted, laughing darkly.
         He growled angrily at her, grasping at the handguns beneath his jacket.  “Fuck you bitch.”
         “Ooh, and I thought I wasn’t going to get any action from you.”
         Vivian keyed her radio.  “She’s a real bitch James, are you sure we can trust her?”
         James didn’t take his eyes off the wolfess as she circled around him, baring her teeth in a vicious smile.  “Doesn’t look like it.  Where’s Maxwell?”
         “You should be lucky I came,” Katalyn said.  “He wanted to have you killed.  Apparently, you’ve been quite busy since you left us.”
         “I found a hobby I really like.  Are you going to help me or not?”
         Vivian heard movement behind her, starting to turn around, but stopping as a cold barrel was pressed against the back of her neck.  “Don’t move,” the owner of the gun said, taking her rifle away and yanking her roughly up.
         “You’re welcome to stay with us,” Katalyn said, “you’re still a part of this pack.”
         James grunted at her, “Yeah.”
         “Look what I found,” a burly guard shouted, carrying Vivian’s rifle with one hand, pushing the werefox ahead of him with the other.
         “My James,” Katalyn said, sniffing the air deeply as Vivian approached.  “Your taste isn’t very good, a werefox?  They’re barely scavengers.”
         Vivian growled weakly at Katalyn, but stopped when James held up his hand.  “Is your insulting done?  I want to get some sleep.”
         She smiled again at him, laughing lightly.  “For now, let’s go.”
- - - -
         Impressive, James thought as he was driven into the pack’s compound.  It was nearly the size of a small town, mostly prefabricate housing and trailers, but much nicer than James had anticipated.  He could even see several small shops, a pharmacy and a grocery store.  At the far end of the town he could see a multi-story log cabin, white smoke billowing out of several chimneys.  Katalyn had called it the guest lodge, but James suspected it was more of a way for them to keep an eye on Vivian and himself.  Thick snowflakes started to fall rapidly from the sky as they pulled to a stop in front of the lodge, Maxwell, in his wolf form, walking out of the entryway to greet them.
         They were greeted by four more burly guards, patting them down and removing the handguns hidden beneath their coats.  “Don’t trust me Maxwell?” James asked.
         “You did bring a . . .” Maxwell sniffed deeply, grinning at Vivian, “fox into our pack.”
         “And?”
         “So is this your new, mate or wife?”
         “No, she’s dead.”
         “That’s a shame, she was an impressive human.”
         “Yeah, I know,” James grunted, clenching his fists.  “Can we get on with this?  I’m tired.”
         “Katalyn will show you to your rooms.”
         The white werewolf walked past James, slamming her shoulder hard into his side.  “Follow me.”
         Tear into her, the werewolf inside him demanded as they followed her inside.  You know you want to.
         Yeah, but not yet, I’m not mad enough yet.
         Why not?  She’s only a bitch, barely the Alpha Female.
         “Deep thoughts?” Vivian asked.
         “Not that deep,” he smiled, “just having an argument with myself.”
         “Won’t you always lose?”
         “Here’s your room,” Katalyn snapped, pushing open one of the second floor rooms.
         “Same room?” he asked, scanning the room as Vivian walked inside.
         “Unless you want to keep my bed warm?”
         “Bitch,” James swore, slamming the door shut.  The room was decently sized, with a small kitchen area, dining room, sparse living room and a door which he assumed led to the bedroom.  James tossed his backpack onto the kitchen counter, walking towards Vivian.  She had already started unpacking her duffel bag, sifting through the misarranged contents.  “You need to learn to pack better.”
         “Yeah?  Well you need to get along with people better.”
         “Katalyn’s not a person.”
         “She seems to like you a lot.”
         “Elisa kicked her ass a few months ago, quite a show really,” James smiled, thinking about the fight between the wolfess and his wife.
         “I thought she was a human.”
         “She was, but she was more of a bitch than Katalyn.”
         There was a loud knocking on the room’s door, and James sighed loudly.  “I’ll go see who that is.  You can have the bedroom, I’ll sleep out in the living room.”
         “Okay.”
         James stalked through the room, tossing his jacket aside as he reached for the knob.  “I’m not going to sleep with you!”
         Rachel was standing on the other side, holding a thick envelope beneath her arm.  “I’m flattered, but no thanks.”
         “Sorry, I thought it was . . .”
         “Katalyn?”
         “Yeah, wanna come in?”
         Rachel accepted the invitation, walking into the living room and dropping to the couch.  “I heard about Elisa, I’m sorry.”
         “You don’t have to be sorry.”
         “Only the people who get in your way, right?”
         James sat down beside her, clenching his hands and staring down at the floor.  “I don’t really have anything else to live for now.”
         “Who’s Vivian?”
         “A friend, we were both captured together and taken to some complex in Texas.”
         “That was you?”
         “Yeah, I was mad.  Have you ever heard of the Redjack project?”
         “No.”
         “Hold on,” James dug into his backpack, handing her a disc in a slim, paper sleeve.  “What I have is on there.  If you could keep that . . .”
         “Quiet?  That isn’t a problem.  I don’t trust Maxwell or Katalyn very much.”
         “I thought they were your leaders?”
         “Ever since Katalyn lost that fight to Elisa, neither of them have allowed any challenges to their positions.  They’ve started choosing peoples’ mates for them, trying to pair strengths together.”
         “You didn’t do that before?”
         She glared angrily at him.  “No, we were allowed to choose for ourselves.  We only fought when there was an argument.”
         “Oh, sorry, I just don’t understand any of this.”
         “It’s okay.”
         “So, why did you come here anyway?”
         “Before you left last time, Jake found out something interesting about your relatives.”  She handed him several sheets of paper out of the envelope.
         James scanned the papers, slowly flipping through the pages.  “There isn’t anything too surprising, I knew part of my family was from Austria.”
         “Well, it looks like one of your Austrian ancestors was an ancient werewolf.  He married a human woman, and since then his bloodline has been entirely human.”
         “Like a recessive gene or something?”
         “Yes, and when you were bitten, it was like activating that dormant gene.”
         “That’s why I’m so strong?”
         “If Maxwell or Katalyn find out, it could get very bad here for you.”
         “What would they do?  It can’t get too much worse . . . except for outright killing me I guess.”
         “Katalyn could force you to have sex with her,” Rachel said, laughing at him.
         “Yeah, that might be very bad.”
         “She wasn’t that bad looking,” Vivian said, joining them in the living room.  “I might even be tempted to sleep with her.”
         Rachel stared at the younger woman for a long moment, before turning back to James.  “Maxwell wants to talk to you, down in the lobby.”
         “That’s why you came up here, really?” James asked.
         “You needed to hear about your ancestors, but Maxwell is waiting for you.”
         “Shit.  Vivian, let’s go.”
         “No,” she held up a hand towards the werefox, “he just wants James.”
         “Fuck.”
- - - -
         James walked slowly down the lodge’s steps, and into the elaborate foyer.  A large stone fireplace occupied one corner, with a large fur rug in front of it and two fluffy looking couches on either side.  More couches and recliners occupied the lobby, along with glass end and coffee tables.  The lodge’s check in desk was decorated to look like a massive log, but it was unoccupied.  Maxwell stood in front of the fireplace, in his werewolf form, arms crossed and his back to James.  More burly guards, both men and women, were guarding each of the exits; two of them moving to block the stairs as he approached Maxwell.
         “Yes?” James asked, resting his thumbs in his belt.
         Maxwell turned around slowly, staring down at James.  “What you have been doing lately, is a threat to all of our kind.”
         He talked slowly and evenly, but James knew the other man was extremely mad.  “Killing hunters.”
         “What are you looking for?  Rachel told me that your wife died, is that what all this is about?”
         “Revenge and anger, they’re powerful together,” he said, smiling coldly at the werewolf.
         “I should rip your throat out!” Maxwell roared.
         “Then why don’t you try?”
         “Not yet boys,” Katalyn said, walking slowly towards them.  “Maybe later, but I bet James is after something, right?”
         “Yeah, her,” James dug the folded picture of Lisa and handing it to Maxwell.
         “Why?” Katalyn took the picture, looking it over, before giving the paper to Maxwell.
         “I’ve met her before,” Maxwell said, staring at the ID, “she does know what she’s doing.”
         “I think she killed my wife,” James said, dropping down into one of the couches, “I want to find her, and make her pay for it.”
         Maxwell smiled at him.  “Such aggression James.  So what do you want from us?”
         “Money, truck, guns, ammunition . . . and a safe place for Vivian.”
         “No,” Maxwell said quickly.
James swore under his breath.  “But she’s a lycanthrope, still one of our kind.”
         “She doesn’t belong here,” Katalyn snapped.
         “Do she threaten you?” Maxwell taunted.  “She can stay, as long as you return.”
         “What!?” James and Katalyn both shouted together.
         “I’m probably not coming back from this,” James snapped, “and I really don’t have any plans to either.”
         Katalyn growled at the two men, turning on her heel and marching angrily away.
         “She’s a pistol,” James grunted.
         “You should see her in bed.”
         “No thanks, but what about those things?  Vivian needs a safe place to stay.”
         “James, its no secret that I don’t like you very well, in fact I would love to rip your arms off.”
         “That’s comforting,” he snorted.
         “But I want to do it, and until we have a chance to fight, the pack needs fighters like you.  Someone like you, who thinks he has lost everything, needs a reason to come back.  Vivian will be your reason.  If you don’t return, she gets kicked out.”
         James growled.  “Yeah.”
- - - -
         “How are you even going to find her?” Vivian asked.  She was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching James inventory a table full of supplies and weapons.
         “Along with the Redjack files were a list of hunters and their contact information.”  James flipped his laptop open, showing her a map of Missourri with several red dots on it.  “I’m tracking her cell phone.”
         “That’s pretty smart,” she said smiling.  “How do you plan to get to her?”
         “Let her capture me.”
         “That’s insane, they’ll kill you.”
         “No, we have a past together, I’m hoping she’ll want to kill me herself.”
         “That’s a big hope.”
         “Yeah, but that’s ‘bout all I have right now.”
- - - -
         James flopped back and forth on the couch, grunts and mumbled words escaping his mouth.  His mind continued to play the explosion over and over again, the heat washing over his body, watching as his wife burned in the driver’s seat, why he had abandoned her, why he was watching her.  In his mind he could hear her screaming over the flames, asking him why he wasn’t there to save her.  Vivian wandered out of the bedroom, wrapped in a white robe, her tail poking out the back.  She watched as the change tore through James’ body, ripping apart his pajamas and tossing the sheets aside.  He jerked upright, his powerful claws tearing into the couch and shattering the coffee table.  Still half asleep, he turned towards her, baring his teeth and growling at her.
         “Whoa, James!” she screamed as he darted forward, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her against the wall.  The air exploded out of her lung in a weak yelp, tears streaming down her face.  He roared violently at her, spittle flying across her face and her ears ringing at the sound.  “Please . . . James, you’re . . .hurting me!”
         He leaned forward, his jaws aiming towards her throat; their eyes met, and James stopped.  Shaking his head, he let her go and took a step back, resting his forehead in his palm.
         Vivian collapsed to her hands and knees, gasping for breath and staring down at the floor.  There was a deep imprint in the wood paneling where James had slammed her against the wall, and she knew there would be bruising there for a while.  “Are you okay?”
         James blinked, looked at her, blinked again, then scanned her with his eyes.  “What happened?”
         “Y-you were raging,” she said quietly, standing slowly and approaching James.  Her eyes never left his viscous claws, watching them twitch occasionally.
         “Raging?  Did I do that?” he asked, pointing at the tattered remains of her sleeves; blood was already flowing down her arms, dripping onto the floor.
         “Yeah, I’ll be alright,” she muttered, turning to go back into the bedroom.
         “No, you won’t, c’mon, let me take care of you.”
         “I’ll be fine James, I’m a lycanthrope, just like you.”
         “I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry,” James muttered.  “Could you, uh, stay out here, I really don’t want another nightmare?”
         “Sure, but could you put some clothes on?”
         James looked down, seeing the tatter remains of his boxers and tee-shirt.  “Shit.”  He turned away, embarrassed at exposing himself to Vivian.  Digging through his backpack, he retrieved a set of sweatpants and pulled them on.  Grunting, he ripped a small hole in the back of his pants, so that his tail could poke out.  He dropped onto the couch, rubbing either side of his head.
         Vivian sat beside him, rubbing his back in slow circles.  “What was the dream about?”
         “Elisa.  I was watching her burn, and I couldn’t do anything.”
         “That’s bad.”
         “Vivian, it’s my worst nightmare come true, that’s the only thing I’ve ever feared.  Nothing.”
         “What?”
         “Nothing, having nothing, not being valued or loved by anyone.”
         She hugged him tightly.  “You have me, I can be your family.  You’re like my big brother.”
         “Yeah?”
         “My big, hairy, scary, and dangerous big brother.”
         James laughed quietly.  “Thanks.”
         “For what?”
         “Making me laugh.”
         “That’s what sisters are for.  Here, lie down, my mother used to do this when I was a young pup.”
         James followed the suggestion, lying his head down on Vivian’s lap.  She slowly ran her claws down his snout, moving slowly and methodically.  Soon his eyes were growing heavy, and he couldn’t seem to focus on Vivian’s face, or what she was saying.  She had been talking for a few moments, but he had zoned out.  “Thanks.”
- - - -
         “How long ago did your wife die?” Rachel asked, both of them were in their werewolf forms.  She was a thickly muscled, red furred, werewolf.
         They were unloading crates of food down from a loading van, and into a waiting hand cart.  “Nearly six months.  Still hurts though.”
         “It never gets any easier,” she grunted, dropping several kegs onto a pallet.  “We lose a lot of people to hunters and Aperture Science.”
         “I know,” James finished unloading the truck, walking slowly around to the front of the truck, Rachel close behind.
         “I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about,” James nodded at her.  “Come with me, to the park.”
         James followed her in silence, through town and to the small park located at the southern end of town.  She didn’t say anything until they had reached the small pond near the center, dropping onto one of the stone benches there.  “So, what’s up?”
         “I like your new markings by the way, what happened?” Rachel laughed, stroking his arm.
         “Project Redjack I think.  They tried a new serum on me, guess it didn’t work too well with my elder blood  huh?”
         “No, but you’re probably the first elder they’ve experiment on.”
         “So . . . what’s up?”
         “I think I found out something about Elisa.”
         “What about her, she’s dead?”
         “She may not be.”
         James only looked at her, his jaw half opened.
         “Jake was able to hack into a few government databases with those Redjack ID cards, and he found some interesting stuff.  They’ve been tracking several different hunter and lycanthrope packs, over the past ten years, financing a few of them too.  One of them was Kopek’s group, and Jake found this.”  Rachel handed him a small photograph.
         The photograph was of his truck in a parking lot; Elisa was standing outside the driver’s door, yelling angrily at Lisa.  His jaw ground together so tight that she could hear his jaw popping repeatedly.  “She could be alive, all this time?”
         “Maybe.  The remains in your truck couldn’t be identified.”
         “Why didn’t you tell me earlier damn it?” he roared angrily.
         “Katalyn didn’t want me to, she found Jake before I did.”
         “What the hell is going on around here?”
         Rachel seemed to cringe at the question.  “I don’t know, Maxwell or Katalyn are planning something.  I think he’s hoping you’ll die when you go after Lisa.”
         “That was my plan . . .” he muttered.
         “Was?”
         “I can’t leave Vivian defenseless.”
         Rachel looked at him with questioning eyes.
         “Its not like that, I’m just not sure if she has anywhere to go.”
         “I’ll look after her.”
         “Thanks.”
- - - -
         The truck had died near the edge of the road and James had been forced to push the truck the rest of the way onto the shoulder.  The hood was open now, hot steam billowing out of the radiator.  His tool bag sat in front of the truck, and he occasionally pulled a tool out and swore at the vehicle.  Movement in the trees beside him caught his attention, jerking him immediately upright.  “Who’s out there?” James demanded, holding a screwdriver tightly at his side.  More sound drew his attention to the far side of the road, and he turned towards it, growling deeply.  The attack came from the side.
         A net floated over the top of the truck, landing over Ross’s head; it burned fiercely as soon as it reached the skin.  Fuckin silver, he thought, forcing the transformation and ripping at the net with his claws, but it was too tough for his attack.  Its weights held it against the ground, and the more that he fought, the more that the net tightened around his struggling body.  Hunters began appearing from the wood line, most armed with shotguns, but several had heavy looking clubs; all of them were wearing ski masks.  The first club slammed against the back of his leg, dropping him to the ground.  He swung angrily out, but missed the attacker by several feet; instead, he received a sharp blow to the back of his arm.  Another collided with the back of his head, knocking him onto his face.  More impacts rained down on his body, thudding against his body, snapping bones and creating more bruises.  “Fucking . . .” he mumbled, losing consciousness.
- - - -
         “Hrgph,” James mumbled out, coughing awake.  He was barely conscious, a fog still filling his mind and making it hard to think clearly.  His muscles protested in fatigue and pain, dried blood coating his face and muzzle; he tried to open his eyes, but the blood there had stuck them shut.  He could feel thick steel restraints around his wrists and ankles, a leather collar wrapped tightly around his throat, restricting his breath.  James tried to move, but the restraints were definitely strong enough to keep him from moving easily, but he was sure that he could break away if he had too.  Forcing his eyes open, the dried blood tearing the fur away, he began to scan the room slowly.  James was hanging in the center of a large room, swinging slowly from a massive steel I-beam.  It looked like he was in what used to be a butcher’s room, hooks were hanging along the ceiling, with a large drainage grate in the center.  He scanned the freezer door sitting in one of the corners, the inner handle had been removed and a camera placed above it.
         The outer door squeaked open slowly, a woman walking confidently inside.  She was wearing a thick ski-mask, concealing her face and carrying a lethal looking combat knife.  In her other hand was a sharp looking silver metal spike, which she held loosely.  Behind her was a pair of shotgun armed guards, along with another woman, taller and leaner than the first.  Each of them were wearing mask, but their eyes were easily visible, watching him nervously.
         “He’s all yours,” the second woman said, ducking out with the two guards.
         The first woman stalked up to him, drawing the silver spike back and driving it deep into his side, searing pain rocking through his body as his flesh sizzled painfully.  He tried to speak, but all the tight collar would allow was a strangled growl.  She stabbed him again in the side.  “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!”
         He roared in pain as the spike found a tender spot, she twisted the spike around, warm blood flowing down his legs and dripping onto the floor.  Tear her head off, the wolf inside him demanded, James thought he could almost hear its growl.  Rip into her, make her pay for her disrespect.  Fuck it.  James twisted his body, dodging the next attack and arching his body together with all his strength.  The cables around his legs snapped loudly, his feet swinging up and connecting with the woman’s chin; the attack tossed her back with an angry shout, falling down.  Pulling his legs up, he pressed his feet against the I-beam, pushing with all his strength.  The second chain snapped, dropping him painfully onto his shoulders.  The woman yelled, stabbing down at his chest.  He rolled to the side, the knife bouncing off the concrete ground and knocking the weapon out of her hand.
         James drove his heels into her face, knocking the woman onto her back.  He leapt forward, locking his knees around her waist and slamming his fists into her forehead, bouncing the back of her head against the hard floor.  Tearing the leather collar away, he took several deep breaths.  “What the fuck!?”
         “Get the fuck off me asshole!” she yelled at him, trying to toss him away, but not succeeding.
         James reached down, tearing the hood away.  “Oh fuck me.”