Lycanis: The Foundation

Lycanis- The Foundation
Short story by Gareth "Gear" Wakeford
Prologue- Resignation

September 8th, 2520
From: Professor Samantha Kiel
To: Vice-Director Soris Bole
Subject- Urgent

What does it mean to be human? What is required to fit in to society? Why is it, that, when we come across something new, and different, we push it away, lock it up in a prison cell? These are questions the SCP Foundation has caused me to ask time and time again, especially after the incident of SCP-994.

He called himself "Lucas O'Donnell." The world knew him as "Lycanis." He was a hero, though none looked inside of him, to judge his character, but they instead judged him from the outside. Lucas... was a strange individual. We had captured many werewolves in the past, but he... was exceptional. He displayed emotion, fear of what the Foundation would do to him.

It's because of fear. We are scared of what we don't understand. Very true in Lucas' case. He was very intimidating- in Beast form he stood 6'6", he was somewhat muscular, with the head of a dog and the body of a human. He wore gloves, that had blades stored inside, which he used to fight his enemies. His hands and feet grew claws, he boasted a tail, and grey fur covered him head to toe. He simply wore a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the former of which had his emblem dyed onto it- a red moon, on top of a blue circle, so as to take up part of it. It was something the people had never seen before, and they, as well as now-Director Vance, decided he was a threat, and that he must be segregated from the community, so as to avoid him going berserk and killing someone.

Because he's different.

And that's why I'm leaving. After Director Vance decided Lucas' fate, I decided I'm leaving the Foundation, in fear of what he would do next. This is my resignation. Goodbye.

-Professor Samantha Kiel, ex-SCP employee

Chapter 1- Because I'm Different

2 months earlier
Lucas O'Donnell
Old Exeter, City-State of Larian

"Why are we here again, Roger?" I asked my CO, next to me in a bush.
"I have recieved reports of something strange going down here, my friend."
"Well we've been here for an hour, and the wolf is getting hungry," I complained.
"Well he needs to chill," Roger replied. I thought about it a moment.
"Ha. I have, indeed, seen what you did there."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
Roger was only a year my senior, his 17 to my 16, but he leads well. He is the leader of the Universe's Crusaders, a group dedicated to crushing the Icer war machine, headed slowly towards Earth, leaving behind a trail of stripped planets and broken bodies in their wake. I'm a Reborn Lycanid, a species of Animid. Too ambiguous? OK, here goes.

An Animid is a creature capable of transforming into animal hybrids. We've been given many a name, but we're mostly known as Werekin. A Lycanid is an Animid wolf. There are 2 kinds of Animid; the Godborn and the Reborn. A Godborn is created out of thin air, these Animids live a few centuries. A Reborn, like myself, are created by a human being blessed by an Anisode leader, mine being the Lycanisode.

I was currently in human form, as Roger called low profile on this mission, even though it didn’t matter. He just didn’t want anyone getting hurt.

“Hey, Lucas! Look,” Roger whispered. I looked, and there they were.

People, 2 men dressed in military attire, with the letters “SCP” on the back of their Kevlar vests. They were talking to a slight woman, just old enough to be my mom. She looked so out of place in matching gear. She seemed to be the one in charge.

“The Foundation,” Roger breathed.

“What? What do you mean, ‘The Foundation’?” I inquired.

“We should probably get out of here,” Roger demanded.

And who was I to disobey?

The next day

“OK, Lucas, you’ve got one shot at this.” Drake was reassuring me over the headcom.

“So, find the Icer sympathizer group, and arrest them?” I asked, to make sure I had my objective straight.

“Bingo. Alright, I’m going to let you go.”

“Already? I’m going to miss your voice,” I shot back sarcastically.

“Me too, Lucas.” Then he cut out.

It was just me, the phone wire, Beast form authorization, and a group of Icer allies. This was going to be great.

Then the gunshot came.

I fell off the wire, dazed, falling 10 feet to the ground. Ouch. I scrambled to my feet, and kept running as an armored car followed. I looked at my leg; it was bleeding, pretty bad, and I got maybe 10 yards before I collapsed, submitting to my foe, who I had only seen for a fraction of a second.

It was a she.