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#1 2013-04-26 10:34:35

From: College
Registered: 2008-04-23
Posts: 585

The Thrill of the Hunt

So wow, it's been a while since I've posted here! Anyways this is a "mostly" new story, stealing a couple ideas from Brother Wolf, except this time I actually have a plot planned (oh how I've grown as a writer in the years tongue) So without further ado I present the first part of: The Thrill of the Hunt


        Alex hated the smell of nighttime coffee. Maybe it was because any employee still left at Dunkin Donuts had checked out long ago, maybe it was because by that time the beans were no longer fresh, or maybe it was because he always associated it with the smell of death. The crime scene had been long cleared and Alex stood with his father over the dead body of a high school student. It didn't look like anyone he knew, but then again he doubted the poor victim's mother would even recognize the mangled carcass, adorned with tear marks that resembled that of a wolf's. “So, what do you smell Alex?” his father asked, cutting through the silent horror of the sight. The crime scene was on a long, lonely stretch of road surrounded by forest. Not an uncommon sight for Washington state, but the mixing smells of forest, cars and the shitty midnight coffee ran to jumbled together into Alex's nostrils. He took off his shirt
    “I'm gonna have to change, Dad.” The teenager responded as he stripped naked, laying his clothes on the hood of his father's car. The change came swift, muscles tensing and burning, bones popping. It was a pain, but a sweet pain. Within seconds a wolf stood in the teenager's place.

    James watched as his son sniffed around the crime scene, the long canine nose poking into every inch of road and forest near the body. Like his brother in law, Rudy, and his late wife, Alex's mother, Alex was twice the size of a normal wolf, James silently thanked the killer for picking such secluded spots to leave his victims, he and his son wouldn't be able to investigate otherwise. He hated forcing his son to do this but it was needed. This was the second killing of this nature in two months and all the department was able to come up with was a rash of similar cases last year a couple of counties over. The only recurrence in the killings was the mangled state of the body and the isolated areas in which the victims were found. James watched the lean, tall wolf finish his investigation before shifting back into Alex. His son walked over to the car, putting his clothes back on. “So....what did you find?” James asked. He hated this cold professionalism he had to use with his own son, but he couldn't be his father right now, he had to be a detective.
    “There's no wolves in the area, not anymore...except for one, that smells of soap and blood.
    “So you're telling me...”
    “Yeah dad, it's a werewolf, like me.” No, not like you, never like you son.

    The ride home was silent, until Alex asked if he could skip school tomorrow. James smiled at his son “Not a chance puppy.” Alex smirked, his human father had done his best to raise him like a normal kid, and his uncle Rudy had helped to raise him like a normal werewolf. “Alex, I am sorry.” Now that they were off the crime scene and off the clock James could be a father again “I really wish I didn't have to bring you to that. I would have brought Rudy like I normally do on hard cases.” Rudy was a professor of Criminal Psychology at the local university and was brought in many times both on book and off book to help with harder cases, but he was off on his yearly hunt with his pack. “I just needed to get this looked at now.”
    “I understand Dad.” Alex responded “But you owe me.” His son said with a grin befitting the wolf he was. “Next year, I want to go on the week long hunt up in Canada with Uncle Rudy.”
    “You're asking me to let you skip a week of senior year?”
    “Wasn't it you who told me that senior year was made for slacking?” James laughed on the outside, but sobbed on the inside. He would let his son go, he had to, he had just forced Alex to look at the body of a kid his age, and admit that one of his own people had done it. You are not like him. HE is not one of you!
    “Maybe!” James responded, hoping to squeeze a few extra chores out of his son in exchange. “Now help me think of a story in case your brother woke up.”



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