Werewolf Chronicles Chapter 1

Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 1

         The werewolf stood nearly seven foot tall, with ravenous jaws and dirty gray fur; its eyes were a bright yellow, staring tiredly down at the floor beneath him.  He had deadly sharp claws on powerful arms and legs, which he used to painfully push his body up from the floor.  There were dark spots of blood in the fur on his sides and back, thick droplets splattering onto the floor.  The remains of jeans were on his legs, along with tattered shirt pieces and tennis shoes.  Consciousness slowly came back to him, bringing a splitting headache with it, and pain to his entire body.  He coughed, whining at an invisible pain in his body as more blood sprayed into the air from his mouth.  Wiping the blood and spittle from his muzzle, he forced his body to stand up straight, ready for the next attack.
         He was laying on the floor of a small living room, outside a shattered sliding glass door was a dull second floor patio; one door lead to a small kitchen and dining room, one led outside while a third led to a hallway and bedrooms.  The room was in tatters, bullet holes pocked each wall; they had shattered the television and entertainment center, spilling the electronic equipment across the floor.  An entertainment center had been shattered across the room, amongst the remains of a torn and blood couch.  A large pool of blood was quickly soaking into the floor where the werewolf had been lying, and more blood was flung up on the walls.
         Surrounding him and blocking all the exits were three werewolf hunters, armed with an assortment of handguns, shotguns or rifles.  He growled at them.  “Fuck.”
- - - -
One Week Earlier

         Specialist James Ross shook his hand back and forth, the makeshift bandage covering it leaking blood across the emergency room floor.  He was a Military Policeman with the local base, and was on hour fourteen of a twelve hour shift.  James kept his hair long for the military, which he had a habit of running his hand through and messing it up.  The stubble on his too pale face was longer than he likes, itching his skin along with the sweat.  What was worse was that he wasn’t even supposed to be working those shifts anymore, he had recently changed jobs in the military, but when they came up short handed, James had volunteered.  Three hours ago he and a partner had responded to a domestic disturbance on base, only to discover none of the suspects were even military, and they had to call the local county sheriff to take them away.  When he had been handcuffing the female suspect, she had attacked him, biting his hand and digging her fingernails into his arms.  James’ partner had sprayed them both with pepper spray, pulling her off and shoving her into the car.
         Since then he had been waiting in the emergency room, almost two hours now and he was getting angry.  “Fuck this,” he grunted, standing and stomping out of the hospital doors.
         One of the interns, a second lieutenant, rushed after him.  “Specialist, you can’t leave here.”
         “Look sir,” James wanted to hit the officer, but restrained himself.  “I’ve been up for sixteen hours and counting, I want to go home.  If I get sick I’ll come back.”
         “I’m an officer, and . . .”
         James turned on his heel, walking to his parked squad car.  Hell with the consequences, I’m tired, he thought.  It took him another forty minutes to turn in his car and weapon, then driving his Dodge Truck back to  his small military apartment.  His wife was long ago asleep, dinner cold and waiting for him in the microwave; he ate slowly, trying to ignore the mounting pain in his hand.  I need a shower.  The wound burned fiercely as he poured hydrogen peroxide over it, the chemical taking blood and dirt down the sink’s drain.  The shower was brief and scalding, after which he fell asleep in bed beside his wife, not even bothering to cover himself.
- - - -
         The dream was intense, as if it was a memory more than a illusion.  James dreamt that he was a wolf, running with his pack, tracking the rich scent of prey ahead of them.  Yipping happily, he buffed against his pack mates, picking up speed as the prey slowed down, seeking somewhere to hide from the closing pack.  Drool began to drip from his fangs as he peeked around a corner, spotting the fleeing doe, trying to hide.  The pack darted forward, attacking the defenseless animal.  His last impression of the dream was the rich, dark taste of warm blood flowing into his jaw.
- - - -
         James woke to the smell of cooking bacon, his mouth watering and his stomach rumbling with hunger.  Stumbling tiredly out of the bedroom, he found his wife, Elisa cooking breakfast.  She was just a little bit shorter than him, with raven black hair and dark skin.  A thin robe covered her body as she cooked, not yet noticing him standing in the doorway.  They had been trying to get pregnant for the past few months, each eagerly wanting their first child.
         She turned to face him, smiling as she set the plates down on the cheap dining table and sitting.  “You got home late last night.”
         “Had a case right at the end of my shift, crazy woman bite me.”  James held up his hand as proof, a fresh bandage covering it.
         “Ooh, let me look at that.”  Elisa took his hand, gently unwrapping the bandage and staring at the half circles of cuts.  “You should get that looked at.”
         “After leave, it won’t kill me.”  She stared at him, irritated.  “After my leave, okay?”
         “Okay,” Elisa leaned over the table, kissing him passionately.  “But you’re going to go if it gets worse.”
         “Don’t worry I will.”
         “Okay,” she nodded.  “Your leave starts tomorrow, right?”
         “Today, I signed out on my way home.”
         “So . . . we have all day to ourselves, right?”
         James’ response was lost in his throat as the smell came in through the room, it was foreign and yet familiar.  He shot to his feet, running through the living room and out onto the second floor balcony, staring at the trees that were behind their apartment quadplex.
         Elisa shouted, following him out onto the balcony.  “What .  .”
         His instincts seemed to overwhelm him, and he jumped over the railing, landing gracefully in the downstairs neighbor’s yard.  Pushing up with his thighs, he easily cleared the chainlink fence and sprinted into the forest, his nose chasing the scent.  He knew the trees weren’t really a forest, barely large enough for anything to hide in, but he couldn’t help but follow the scent.  It was as if his body was being controlled by another him, following his urges and refusing to listen to common sense or reason.  Splashing through a narrow creek, he ground to a stop.  This was where the scent was the strongest, its owner was nearby, probably watching him.
         Her, his instincts told him, and she’s nearby, you can hear her.
         James found that he could, she was walking around behind him, trying to be silent.  Spinning on his heels, he came nose to nose with a large, dirty brown wolf.  The wolf looked undernourished, and desperate, its brown eyes drilling into his with deep intensity.  He couldn’t tell if it was anger or curiosity, but at that moment he didn’t care.  Suddenly aware that he had run off into the woods in only his boxers, he had no weapon to fight off the animal if it decided to attack him.  Kneeling down, James kept his eyes locked on the wolf, reaching blindly for a stick, rock or anything heavy to use as a weapon, but as his eyes locked with hers he stopped.
         Intelligence and knowing seemed to radiate from those eyes and into his.  They were sentient, nearly human eyes and he had a deep feeling that this animal wasn’t any kind of threat to him.  Curiosity or what? he thought, staring at the wolf.  She walked forward, hesitantly sniffing his face, then chest, working her way down his body and finally stopping at the exposed wound.  The wolf sniffed intently at it, licking the blood slowly before returning to her haunches, yipping quietly and running off into the woods.
         “What the fuck?”
- - - -
         “How did you know the wolf was a girl?” Elisa asked.  She had yelled at him for several long minutes before unlocking the front door, and demanding to know what happened.
         “I know it sounds weird, but it was smell.  I could smell her.”
         “Like a dog, up her ass?” she laughed, but there was a twinge of seriousness to it.
         “No, in the air.  It was weird, like a dream, I couldn’t control what I was doing.  Shit, my instincts took over.”
         “Hm?”
         “I can still smell things in the air, the dogs next door, the cars outside, you,” he smiled, leaning close and kissing her cheek.
         “Oh?  What do I smell like?”
         “Sexy,” he joked.  “It’s the sounds too, I can hear more than I ever was able to before.  You know how I had trouble hearing stuff before?  Well now its like I have hearing aids in or something, its great.”
         “Maybe you’re just having a good day or something, finally getting some rest might have helped.”
         “Yeah, I guess so.”
- - - -
         A week later, it was the same dream again, except this time he was no longer a wolf.  Now he was running alongside the wolves, as a human, wearing nothing except for the mud coating his feet.  Everything played out the same way again; running alongside the wolves, tracking the animal’s scent and sinking his teeth into the caught animal.  He twisted around, scanning the other wolves, his eyes landing on the dirty brown wolf from a week ago.  She again locked eyes with him, howling loudly before returning to the meal.
- - - -
         James shot awake, cold sweat chilling his skin, his heart beating rapidly against his chest.  His entire body was sore, as if he had been beaten up, or run several miles; it was quickly disappearing, but he had the feeling it had been terrible.  “Where am I?” he groaned, sitting up.  James was sitting in the middle of a small clearing, thick trees surrounding him, mud with streaks of blood coating his entire body.  The tattered remains of his clothes clung to his body; his shirt was little more than ribbons, his pants were completely shredded below the thighs, and his shoes were missing.
         “Shit.”  The full moon could be seen barely above the horizon, as the sun’s orange rays began to land across his bare chest and face.  Absently he dug through his ruined jeans, searching for his cell phone.  He didn’t usually keep it in his pocket at home, but the last thing he remembered was sitting on his couch and watching television.  The phone’s battery was nearly dead, but he knew it was enough to make at least one phone call.
         Elisa picked up on the third ring.  “James, where are you?”
         “I’m not really sure,” he grunted.  “Probably need you to come pick me up though.”
- - - -
         “You don’t remember how you got out there?” Elisa asked.  She was sitting beside him on the couch, hands clasped in her lap, unsure what to do.
         “Not a damn thing.”  James was angry, but he wasn’t sure exactly; it wasn’t Elisa’s fault, and he definitely didn’t want to vent any of the anger at her.
         “Not all that blood was yours.  Sure you didn’t kill that deer?” she joked.
         “No, I’m not sure.  I don’t know what’s happening to me, all these weird dreams, running off the balcony last week, this morning, shit!” James slammed his fist into the couch; there was a crack as the wood inside snapped, and the cushions dropped several inches.
         Elisa scooted across the couch, wrapping her arms around her husband’s shoulders, pulling him close.  “James you need to calm down, whatever this is, we’ll get through it.  Maybe you should go to the doctor?”
         “They’ll think I’m crazy, shit I’m not sure they’d be wrong.”
         “How ‘bout I go get us a movie and some dinner, and we’ll just stay in tonight.”
         He thought for a moment, finally nodding his head.  “I’ll go get the food, I need some air.”
- - - -
         James had avoided leaving their apartments since he had leapt off the balcony, not sure he completely trusted himself.  He drove nearly two blocks before he realized the headlights weren’t turned on; everything seemed easily bright enough for him to see, but others drivers continued to honk at him.  Everything seemed too much for him lately, all the new sounds, smells and feelings.  It was too much for his mind, too much for him to cope with, especially since he didn’t know what was happening to him.  As he drove, his senses began to sharpen; he could even faintly smell the other drivers around him, some smelling angry, others just smelling.  James enjoyed the heightened feelings he was experiencing as he drove into the small town outside the military post.  It was a short drive, but by the time he had reached the small restaurant, his mind was already feeling better.
         “Guess I just needed to get out of the house,” he muttered to himself, wandering up to the carryout window.
The young woman behind the counter looked barely eighteen, smiling friendily as James approached.  “Hello, how can I help you this evening?”
         She’s on her period, he thought, sniffing the air, and she just had sex.  “Two cheeseburger meals, fries for both.”
         “How do you want those cooked?”
         “Make the first one medium, and make mine rare.”
         James paid her quickly, leaning against the wall and waiting for his meal to be ready.  Why did I order rare?  He usually cooked his meat until it was nearly burned, but right now he was desperately craving a large piece of raw meat.  Smells assaulted him as more customers walked up to the window or inside the restaurant; he could smell differents scents on all of them, some seemed to own dozens of animals, others must have come from obsessively spotless homes.  James was picking up his food when the next smell froze his entire body.
         It was the wolf from the other night, she was nearby and he could feel her watching him.  James scanned the parking lot, looking beneath the parked vehicles and around the other buildings, but he couldn’t spot the animal anywhere.  The hairs on the back of his neck were tingling, his gut was telling him that something or someone dangerous was nearby, but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  Calm yourself down, you’re not good at panicing.
         He took several deep breaths, closing his eyes and trying not to think of anything in particular.  When he opened his eyes, he began to scan the parking lot, trying to see anything he had missed before.  Shit.  There were at least five people watching him, two women and three men.  They were all trying to stay hidden, but his newly aware senses made them easy to spot.  All of them were talking on small radios, and motioning towards him with almost subtle hand signs.  All armed too.
The last woman watching him was standing behind his truck, staying more hidden than the others.  She smelled like the wolf from the forest before, and it wasn’t like the wolf had brushed up against her, the scent was her smell, it was her.  He walked around the front of his truck, digging for his keys as he heard the woman run away.  Throwing the food onto his seat, he ran between the parked cars, looking across the tops of the vehicles for the woman.  Not seeing her, he bent over, nearly laying on the ground to look under the cars for her, but still nothing.
         “Shit,” he swore, climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the lot and back onto the highway.  James’ eyes followed the people who had been watching him as they all climbed into a silver Cadillac SUV.  “Who are they?”
- - - -
         “Feel any better now?” Elisa greeted as he set the food on the dining table.
         “Eh,” James shrugged.  “I think someone was following me.”
         “Paranoid?” she joked, sitting down.
         “Being paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get me,” James smiled, sitting down and eating his food slowly.
         “So, what movie did you get?”
         “Crap . . .”
         “Forget to get a movie?”
         “Yeah.”  He stood up, grabbing what was left of his cheeseburger and his keys.
         “Babe, its okay, we can watch something else.”
         “No, I feel like watching a new movie.”  He kissed her gently.  “Be back in a few minutes.”
         James rushed down his steps and into the truck, driving hurriedly down his small court and onto the main road.  He was angry that he had forgotten to get a movie, and really didn’t want to go drive and get one.  But he felt like watching something new, and they both knew that if he had seen it before, he would fall asleep or get bored.  His phone vibrated against his leg and he took it out, looking at; Elisa was calling him, but her didn’t answer it.  On post it was illegal to talk while driving, besides he didn’t like doing it anyway.  When the phone rang again, he pulled over, flipping it open and hitting the talk button.
         “What’s up?”
         Elisa was breathing heavily on the other end, barely talking above a whisper.  “James, please come home, there’s people outside.”  There was the sound of shattering wood and she yelled loudly.
         “Hell, I’m coming babe.”  James dropped the truck back into gear, shoving his foot down onto the accelerator.  Its tires squealed as the vehicle spun around, flying back down the narrow street and towards his apartment.  He sped around the turns, bouncing the light truck over several curbs and onto the sidewalks as he flew back.  Dialing with one hand, he managed to call the MP station on post.
         “Provost Marshal’s Office, Officer Kelly speaking, how can I help you?”
         “My wife’s being attacked . . . shit!”  James swerved the wheel, barely avoiding a panel van as it drove towards him, and sent his truck into his neighbor’s lawn.  He aimed across the yard, and towards his door, stopping on top of a flower bed.
         The truck was still rolling as he jumped out, taking the steps three at a time.  The front door had a round dent in it, and the frame was splintered around the edges.  Wishing he had a firearm again, he crept cautiously into the apartment.  Strange, alien smells assaulted his nose; they smelled like something human, but also not quite human enough.  He followed the path of descruction down the hallway and into his bedroom.  The dresser had been pushed up against the door, but was now halfway across the room.  Sitting in the middle of the bed was his sword, a cheap ornamental item he had bought years ago; blood was covering the tip, quickly soaking into the bedspread.
         “At least she got one of them,” he muttered, walking back into the living room.
         James heard the gunshot a moment before it shattered his porch door, diving away from the projectile, but he wasn’t fast enough.  It caught his left shoulder, spraying blood across the wall and knocking him onto the floor.  Black clad commandos swarmed into the small room from all directions, each training submachine guns on the injured man.  They moved quickly and professionally, covering all the exits while a pair of them hoisted James onto his knees, wrapping flexicuffs around his wrists.
         “What the fuck is going on here!?” James screamed, pulling against the commandos.  “Where the hell is my wife!?”
         “James Ross?” one of the commandos asked through their gas masks.
         “Where the hell is my god damn wife!” he screamed again.  He could felt he anger building up inside him; the back of his mind was demanding that he rip all their throats out like some animal, make them pay for taking his wife.
         “Not here.”
         “Fuck.”
         James let the anger consume him, boiling away his common sense and letting his instincts and anger drive him.  Thick, dark fur sprouted from his skin, his clothing ripping as the muscles in his body expanded to twice their size.  Pain tore through his body as his feet expanded into powerfully clawed feet, and his hands turned into two equally strong claws.  His lower back ripped as a bushy tail pushed out of his clothing and his face pulled forward into a wolf’s snout, with matching razor sharp teeth.  His senses were on fire, everything seemed amazingly clear and sharp; he knew every facet of his body, and had a hint of what it was capable of.
         Without thinking, he ripped the flexicuffs open, grabbing the nearest commando’s neck, snapping it with a swift twist of his arm and tossing the lifeless body into the others.  The commandos behind him frantically reached for their weapons, but he was faster, grabbing their slings and throwing them through the remains of his front door.  The remaining commandos had gathered themselves now, using the hallway as covering and firing back at him.  James dove into the kitchen as bullets ripped into his back, burning as they drove into his skin.  More bullets ripped into the wall beside his head, throwing chips of cheap drywall into his coarse fur.
         A second barrage of gunshots echoed from outside, and he risked a quick glance from behind his cover.  Bullets were tearing into the commandos, forcing them back into his living room.  Three of the men from earlier in the night sprinted through his front door; the first was cut down by the commando’s gunfire but the next two were faster, diving into the living room.  The firefight was intense, the two men using the wall to fire back at the two remaining commandos.  The next man was shot several times in the chest as he twisted out from his cover, sending his own rounds into the opposing man’s head.  The last commando emptied his entire magazine into the wall, the small bullets cutting through the drywall and wood, tearing into the last man.
         James took his opportunity, darting out from behind his cover and leaping down the hallway.  The submachine gun rocketed loudly, the bullets tearing through the skin on his left side, but he was already on top of the commando.  Two powerful punches into their face turned the flesh beneath into a soup of blood and crushed bone.  He sent another fist into the face to make sure before standing.  The grenade bounced through the front door, ricocheting off the dead men and rolling towards him.  “Hell.”
         The explosion threw him sideways through a wall and into the living room, rolling end over end.  Shockwaves bounced against his ears as he rolled against the now burning couch, then into the center of the living room.  His vision blurred in and out as the two woman from before, and a scared looking young man entered the living room.  A cough racked through his body, throwing bloody spittle across his muzzle as he stood painfully up.  A pained whine escaped his mouth as the commandos’ bullets continued to burn like fire, and he wanted desperately to dig them out with his claws.  He looked around at the remaining people, growling under his breath.  “Fuck.”
         “He looks pretty bad Lisa, think the vampires were doing our job,” the man jokes at a blue haired woman.
         “I want to know where the rest of them are, we saw at least twice as many,” the other woman commented.
         “Well, they were here for something,” the blue haired woman, Lisa said, “it must have been important.”
         “I’ll ask this once,” James growled deeply.  “Where is my wife?”
         “You’re an abomination, and need to  . . .” the man was cut off as James’ fist drove into his face, knocking him unconscious.
         He moved lightening fast, grabbing the blue haired woman’s throat and picking her up.  “Apparently you’re the leader, what’s going on?”
         She laughed, pushing her shotgun against his ribs.  “We’re hunters, we keep the world safe from people like you.”
         “Like me!?  I don’t know what the hell I am!”
         The two woman exchanged glances.  “If you want answers, put me down.”
         “Fine.”  James ripped the shotgun out of her hand, crushing it with his powerful claws as he dropped her onto the ground.  “Talk.”
         Lisa rubbed the bruises already starting to appear on her neck, glancing at her ruined weapon, then at the remaining woman.  “The police will be here soon.”
         “And?” he growled, opening and closing his claws in anger.
         The woman only pointed at him, not saying anything.
         James growled, angry at the fact that he didn’t know how he had transformed in the first place, let alone how to reverse.  Calming himself down seemed the best way to accomplish that.  He took several, long, deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate and calm himself down.  It was hard, the adrenaline still coursing through his bloodstream and making that difficult.  The transformation back was nearly as shocking as turning into a werewolf had been, the hair retracting itself, his muscles shrinking back to their smaller sizes and his face returning to normal.
         “That’ll take some getting used to,” he mumbled, holding his tattered pants around his waist.  His side still burned where the commandos had shot him, and when he looked down, he could see the bright gleam of silver protruding from several of the wounds.
         “They’re silver,” Lisa stated.  “They knew what you were.”
         “Well, I think its time to get out of here.  I’m not sure how to explain what happened, and I don’t want to try.”  James disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a small backpack of clothing.  On his way out, he grabbed one of the commandos’ tactical vests and their weapons.  “Let’s go.”
- - - -
         Lisa sat quietly beside James in the passenger seat as he followed their SUV down the darkened highway.  James had thoroughly searched her before they left, removing all of her weapons and anything that had been in her pockets.  She wasn’t afraid, but more worried about the man beside her.  In all the time she had been hunting werewolves and other creatures, she had never seen one that was so capable so early.  Most of the early ones turned barely had enough sense not to kill the neighbor’s dog, but this one had nearly wiped out a squad of soldiers and probably could have killed her small team too.
         “Where are we going?” James asked roughly.
         “We have a safe house we’re renting, its . . .”
         “No, we’re going to a park.”  He snapped the truck’s headlights off, turning off the main highway and aiming down a small dirt road.  His eyes quickly adjusted to the light, illuminating the roadway in front of him well enough to drive.  “I kind of like some of this.”
         “You shouldn’t enjoy any of it,” Lisa snapped angrily.
         “Why not?”
         “You’ll be dead soon.”
         “By who?”  The truck rumbled onto a gravel road, dust kicking up behind the large tires.
         “My hunters or another group; the vampires could get you too.”
         He turned the truck around, pushing on the emergency brake and turning off the engine.  “Okay, let’s talk.”