This is a lame topic title, but oh well. I mostly write short stories with werewolves, so I don't really a have a mutlichapter werewolf story...well, actually, I do, but it incorperates vampires a good deal as well. Anyway, the character featured in these stories is my character, Simon Hawke. He is 23 years old and was studying to be a lawyer. I have a storyline for him along with several other characters, so I may as well present the story outline. With my version of werewolves, there are two varities. Natural, who were born that way and are more stable and able to control their instincts, and Unnaturals who were not born that way, and were normally transformed into a werewolf against their own will. They are more unstable and prone to go insane and become much like the bloodthirsty werewolves you see in the movies. Unnaturals can learn to control their instincts and think rationally, but they are still more unstable and first the two to five months is overwhealming and it is extremely hard to keep their human intelligence in wolf form. Yes, my wolves can transform at will, but they must change on the full moon. Usually unwilling Unnaturals don't practice voluntary shifting so the transformation is disorenting and terrible. So, without further ado, I present my strange stories!

Time period: Early America a couple years after the war of 1812
The place of magic is slowly being taken by logic and science. Many legendary creatures people once believed in are now regarded as a shameful embarrassment that shows the ignorance and gullibility of human nature. But there are still some who believe in these creatures, and those who do are right. Some of the more intelligent creatures have grudgingly accepted this fact that they are regarded as little more than myths and have taken on a human guise, but living a dual life as a member of society and a monster. Some simply refuse to take on a human form and remain neutral on the whole scenario. And yet there are the radical ones who violently to the changing world and wreak havoc upon the human populace. The ones who have blended in attempt to cover up these acts and stop them to keep their secret world from being revealed, those who remain neutral don’t care either way. The mythical world is split in three directions, and there is yet the problem of the unintelligent, more animalistic beings who don’t understand what is going on. Some humans are drug into the middle of the chaos, and none of those who are leave unscathed.
~~~~

All was quiet in the night, aside from the occasional chirp of a cricket. The large full moon cast its ethereal glow over the land, giving it the look of a fairy land. A man sat it the corner, his head turned towards the window. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and his eyes were an unnatural shade of yellow. They could hardly be called such a thing as yellow--they were more of a golden, an animalistic, wolfish golden.

He fell to the floor with a groan of pain as a spasm rocked his whole body. His fingers clutched at the floor and clenched his teeth. There was a painful cracking noise as his face slowly extended out into a muzzle, teeth sharpening into wicked points. Brown fur was rapidly creeping across his body, and his clothes were beginning to tear as his body twisted and changed into an unnatural shape.

Short, trimmed nails lengthened into deadly saber-like claws for shredding flesh.
Toes in his feet seemed to fuse together and grow into animal’s paws. Ears became long and pointed. The man’s whole body was rocked with a terrible, searing pain like no other.

His mind tried to process the whole situation. Was he left? Was he right? Drowning? Alive or dead? Simon. Simon who? Hunger. Food. He thrashed about on the floor, his screaming cries slowly giving way into an animal’s howls of dismay.

Snapping and crunching noises continued until he was left lying on the floor, a pathetic heap of fur slowly rising and falling. His whole body had been transformed into a human-like wolf, and his whole body was covered in fur, aside from the left half of his face. It appeared as if his skin and flesh had been viciously ripped away, and two ugly scars with carved into the already disfigured features. Two long scars trailed down his neck, and one clean slash on his left leg.

The former human’s side continued to rise and fall, eyes fluttering open. His mind had been consumed with animalistic instincts. No human intelligence was there anymore. He no longer recognized himself as a human or who he had been; there was only one thing in mind. Food. Hunger.

The werewolf named Simon heaved himself to his feet and threw the door open with his paw like hands. His hunger would be appeased tonight, for he would find sustenance in whatever he could find. He lowered himself to his paws and dashed away, paws pounding on the hard ground. Soon he found himself from the town and near a farm. The scent of fresh meat reached his nostrils and saliva dripped from his greedy lips. Food. Hunger.

The brown lycanthrope silently slunk into the chicken coop and watched with glazed eyes at the chickens the slept, unaware that this was their execution. Finally the hunger drove him to attack. He snapped at the nearest chicken and that was when the chaos erupted. Chicken feathers flew in all directions, growls and yelps sounded from the coop as the werewolf snapped up and devoured whatever it could get his claws on, not caring if it was left only half eaten. The farmer inside the house was alerted by the ruckus and rushed out of the house only to be greeted by a grisly sight. The lupine slunk out of the chicken coop with blood splattered across his muzzle and five white feathers slowly floated down from his mouth as he swiped his tongue across his maw.

He raised his head as he was alerted to the farmer cocking the gun and firing a faulty shot that completely flew over his head. He dug his claws into the wood of the coop’s ramp and dashed off, throwing turf into the air and releasing an eerie howl into the air. Food. Hunger.

That night the werewolf’s hunger continued to drive him to attack livestock. In total, seven chickens, one goat, and one cow had been killed and devoured. Simon awoke the next morning lying in a quivering heap on the floor with the blood of the livestock spattered on him. In horror, he stared down at his reddened fingers and shook his head in disbelief.

“No…no…�

~~~~

What he was being confronted with now wasn’t like a normal wolf, not at all. It appeared more powerful, and there was a deadly human-like intelligence that glittered in its eyes. He could have mistook it for a moment for a bear, but now he could see that would have been completely off. It did resemble a wolf, but it had a human-like build that was even more obvious when it rose to its feet.

The horse rolled its eyes and reared up in terror, letting out a frightened whinny. Simon desperately pulled on the reins, trying to get it to settle down, but it didn’t. The wolf-creature threw its head back in a howl and at once jumped at the horse. The horse once again reared and threw Simon to the ground.

He was dazed from the fall, and his head was throbbing from the impact with the hard ground. All he was aware of now was the pounding of hooves as the horse ran away from the seen, and the heavy breathing of the animal that had attacked him.

Simon pulled himself too his feet, and without looking back began running. The gigantic wolf-creature tore through the forest with the sounds of its claws turning up the debris on the forest floor as it pursued its prey. The thought crossed his mind to call for help, but he was miles away from any human dwellings. There was nothing to save him now other than this continuous urge to run and get away from the beast that would make him a midnight snack.

The wild panting and churning of claws became louder in a continuous beat like some kind of morbid song. He was beginning to run out of breath and his legs ached from the running. Against his own will, his gait began to slow, blending in with the coming yelps of the animal.

Out of nowhere, the huge wolf-creature slammed into him, knocking the breath out of his chest. Its jaws were wide open, its lips quivering in anticipation of severing the vital vein in its victim’s neck. Simon pushed against the huge furry beast, stupidly trying to get it off him. He turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a hot flash of pain slash across his face as the animal drug its claws down his face. Again and again it came, this time it was clawing and biting him at the same time

Scream. There was nothing he could do but raise his arms up in front of his savaged face and pathetically scream. A throaty, gravely noise came from the wolf-creature as it threw its head back, lifting its weight off him. It was like it was laughing at him and toying with him. Simon rolled over faced down and pushed himself upright.

He had no idea which direction was up or down, or left or right. All he was aware of was the terrible pain that was shooting down one side of his face. He was completely blinded by the attack and stumbled, falling to his knees. The animal slammed down upon him again, shredding his waistcoat with its deadly claws. This time it cleanly slashed two long wounds across his neck and one across his leg. Simon’s breathe was now coming in ragged gasps, his whole body shivering and shuddering from the shock of the whole ordeal he wasn’t even sure was real. He was blinded, but he could hear the heavy breathing of the animal as it circled around him, claws scraping against the leaf debris.

After what seemed an eon the panting and scraping gradually became farther and farther away until it seemed to melt back into the woods. Here he was, laying face down on the forest floor with his blood streaming out of his horribly torn face and wounds. Blood continued trickling down, his life. His very life was draining away with every drop of that crimson fluid that left his veins. And soon there was so little left, that all he could feel was the smothering blackness of unconsciousness fall upon him.

Last edited by Whitewolf_Spirit (2009-02-24 19:23:44)